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Royal Flush Ch. 01

By: MissLisaJones



****** Please Read This First *******

I know, I know, I usually don't bother with the disclaimer bits either. Blah, blah, blah, over 18, blah, blah, blah, don't read if easily offended, blah, blah, blah. But, just this once, please bear with me and read this one.

Firstly, this is a work of fiction and all the characters are completely fictional. In particular, one of the main characters is Princess Charlotte who is, according to chapter one, "about tenth in line for the throne". Now, in real life, there can only be one person who holds that position but this story is not real life and it's definitely not about her.

Princess Charlotte is not a real person and any resemblance is purely coincidental. Before I get carted off to live out what is left of the rest of my life in the Tower Of London, I want to stress that this story is set in a parallel universe where Britain has a very different Royal family with a very different line of succession.

Secondly, briefly, my heartfelt thanks to all those who have helped so much. Special mention mentions must go, as always, to OneWhoAdores, 'V', and MartiniMan for plot advice, and not forgetting my editor, Wizard98x.

Thirdly, once again, I fall neatly between the BDSM and Lesbian Love categories. This story centres on a BDSM club and much of the action has a BDSM theme. However, it's a bit short on the whips and chains to really be a BDSM story. On the other hand those looking for a lesbian themed story may well end up complaining, as a critic once did, that all my stories seem to feature a D/s relationship. Yes, this one is no exception; it's a lesbian love story with BDSM overtones. If this is not what you're looking for stop reading now. That's kinder than voting one star because it's not what you were after.

Lastly, this is a story of deception and subterfuge. Most of the characters have at least two names, many three or even four. To help the reader keep track each chapter will start with a dramatis personae. The list for this chapter is:-

* Andrea, a journalist, masquerading as Emma Pearson from Paarl.

* Tamsin, another journalist, masquerading as Emma Pearson's personal maid, Susan Ward.

* Angus, editor of a London based tabloid newspaper nicknamed the Daily Sleaze.

* Lady Mary, a lady.

Enjoy the story.

******





"Andrea, Tamsin, get your pretty little butts in here, now!" 

Andrea and Tamsin looked at each other. They were both journalists at a newspaper commonly known by its nickname of the Daily Sleaze and a summons from Angus, their editor in chief was like a call from god, only slightly more important. They got up from their desks and went over to his office.

"Ah, come in girls, take a pew," Angus gestured towards the chairs arranged in front of his desk. "How would you two like to work together on a nice piece of investigative journalism? Something big, really big. Get this right and you'll make the front page, I can promise you that."

"I'm fine with that," Andrea replied, "but why us two? Neither of us are exactly senior staff reporters here."

Tamsin had been wondering the same thing. She was younger and junior to Andrea so she was slower to push herself forward but, just like Andrea, she was wondering why Angus had chosen them from the pool of reporters at his disposal.

"Suffice it to say you wouldn't be my first choice if it weren't for one thing; you're both lezzies," Angus explained with some exasperation. 

Both Andrea and Tamsin sighed internally at this. It was true, they were indeed, both 'out' lesbians but, as far as they were concerned, that was all they had in common. The heteros, the breeders around them, seemed to assume that their common sexuality implied much, much more. Both had had to endure the "can we watch" remarks which, whether made in jest or not, they found offensive. They also knew that the adolescent fantasies of some of the junior, and not so junior, staff members featured them as a couple, and that wasn't as flattering as some might suppose. 

Because, to tell the truth, Andrea and Tamsin didn't really like each other that much. Andrea thought Tamsin too wimpy, too wet, and too dim whereas Tamsin thought that Andrea was an arrogant bitch who was far too fond of the sound of her own voice. They did, from time to time, bump into each other in the uptown LGBT clubs and pubs but, as they lived on opposite sides of London, their social circles hardly overlapped and, for each, the thought of having an affair with the other was basically ludicrous.

"Sorry, I don't understand, what has my sexuality, or Tamsin's for that matter, got to do with anything?" Andrea asked, slightly testily. 

"Because I need the two of you to go undercover, to do an exposé," Angus replied.

"And why us?" Andrea asked again.

"Because it's an exposé of a lezzie spanking club. You know the sort of thing, gimp masks, whips and chains, all the usual stuff," Angus said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Normally I wouldn't dream of giving an assignment like this to a couple of youngsters like you but I can't send any of the boys because they wouldn't get past the front door. It's a club for the girlies and that limits my choices."

"A spanking club? I'm not sure...." Tamsin started.

"And I don't give a flying fuck if you're sure or not. I'm sure and that's all that matters. I know that this story is so red hot, once we publish it on our front page then the Daily Sleaze is going to sell like never before. It's all about selling papers and that's all you need to know, well, unless you want to see exactly what the job market is like for junior reporters in the Internet age."

Tamsin kept quiet. Angus could be quite scary and it was unwise to question his judgement.

"But I still don't get it," Andrea said. "I mean, OK, kinky sex clubs sell papers, I'm not so green that I don't know that, but I hardly see it as a front page splash."

"Because Princess Charlotte goes to this one," Angus replied simply. 

"Princess Charlotte, the royal! You're joking! She's about tenth in line for the throne, isn't she?" Tamsin exclaimed.

"Now you're getting it. This club isn't just your normal suburban swingers, boring housewives in black leather basques looking to put a bit of a thrill into their otherwise mundane lives. This one's clientèle are a cut above the normal run of things and, if we get in there and get some photos, we've got the scoop of the century. Forget about grainy telephoto shots of some royal in the pool with her tits out, this one is massive!"

"So, let's see if I've got this straight. Somewhere out there is a kinky sex club whose clientèle are the rich and famous and you want us to infiltrate and get the low-down," Andrea asked.

"Exactly," Angus said with some sarcasm. "I see your degree in journalism wasn't entirely wasted."

"But how do we get in. How do we get past the front door? Knowing that it's happening is all very well but, even if we knew where it was we couldn't just turn up clutching a bottle of Chilean Chardonnay and say 'Hi, we're here for the orgy'," Andrea protested.

"And that," Angus said with a certain amount of smug satisfaction, "is where my contacts come in. Don't ask me how, 'cause I ain't telling, but, if you phone this number," Angus passed a slip of paper across the desk, "and ask to speak to a Lady Mary, you'll find she's expecting a call from an Emma Pearson who has just arrived in England from South Africa having been born and brought up there. Apparently a mutual friend called Lucy advised you to get in touch."

"But I'm Australian," Andrea objected, "and why Emma Pearson?"

"Australian, South African, you all sound the same to us Brits. And why Emma Pearson? Because if they try checking up on you then Emma Pearson has the right background, went to the right schools and that sort of thing. She's an old friend of mine and she's agreed to keep a low profile while we use her name to get in. The story goes that you've just returned to the UK because, well, saying that you can't get on with the new regime will probably work. Anyway you've just arrived in London along with Susan Ward, your companion, partner and personal sex slave. Having got here you're looking to join up with some like-minded persons for hot, sexy fun. Do you think you can manage that?"

"Hang on, hang on, if she's Emma Pearson then that makes me Susan Ward her, what did you call it, companion, partner and personal sex slave? Companion and partner I can live with but personal sex slave, I don't think so," Tamsin had suddenly done the maths.

"Do you think you could pull off being Emma Pearson, complete with South African accent? No? I don't think so either. If you're going to blag your way into this club you two have to pose as a couple and that means one of you had to draw the short straw. Anyway, Andrea's older and far more butch than you are so it only makes sense that way round. I don't know what you're moaning about; it's not as if I'm asking you to do it for real or anything. All you have to do is dress up in the gimp mask, go along to their little parties, click, click, click with the happy snaps and it's all over. I can't see what the problem is."

"Because you're not the one in the gimp mask," Tamsin argued.

"No, I'm the one sitting behind the big desk, the one with the little sign that says 'editor'. You're the very junior reporter who has yet to prove herself. There's only one way to do that and sitting there making petty objections is not it. It's going out and getting the stories and if, sometimes, that means putting on a gimp mask, then that is what you do. If you can't live with that then I would suggest a change in profession because you'll certainly need a change of employer," Angus said firmly. "Now, are there any more objections? No? Then here's a file with everything you need to know about Emma Pearson and I strongly suggest that the two of you start genning up on things right away. I want this one put to bed as soon as possible. Now, have you two finally got it or do I have to explain once again?"

"No, we've got it," the two women chorused.

Shaken, Andrea and Tamsin went back to their desks. There was an awkward silence between them. 

"Come on, spit it out," Andrea said at last. "I know you're dying to say something."

"About us, about this job, if you think for one moment that working together like this means that we've become some sort of unit. Just because I've got to become your 'personal sex slave'," Tamsin nearly spat the words, "so as we can get this story, that doesn't mean that there's anything, anything at all between me and you," Tamsin said vehemently.

"Don't worry your scrawny little arse about it," Andrea replied. "I don't fancy you in the slightest, never have, never will. Pretty little femmes are simply not my type. Look, I'm not wild about the arrangement either but we do what we've got to do, get the story and, beyond that, I don't want to know."

"Yeah, well, that's easy for you to say. You're not the one who's going to end up getting her arse whipped," Tamsin said bitterly.

"Who said anything about whipping your arse?"

"BDSM club? Personal sex slave? I may be green but I'm not stupid. I don't care if Angus says that all I'll have to do is wear a gimp mask, we both know perfectly well that it won't stop there, not if we're going to get accepted. One way or another, before we've finished, this is going to end up with me getting my arse whipped. I am not happy about that. Not in the slightest. Can you suggest one single reason why I should be?"

"Because this is our big chance and I'm not going to let you blow it. If we do this right we're going to end up with our names on the story of the decade and if whipping your arse is what it's going to take to get that story then whipping your arse is what we're going to do. What is more, however we feel about each other, when we're undercover we've got to make it look real. Whether you're happy about it or not is neither here nor there, we've got to be one hundred percent convincing or we won't even get past the front door. Anyway, it probably won't be that bad; it's probably more show than actual whipping. You never know, you might even end up being able to boast that you've had your arse whipped by a member of the royal family," Andrea laughed. 

"Making it look real is one thing but don't you start enjoying it too much. I know you, Andrea. I know what you're like. Just because I have to play at being some sort of sex slave doesn't mean I have to actually be one, let alone enjoy it, and it doesn't mean you have to enjoy it either. When we're not actually undercover we're equals; I'm your colleague and nothing more. I know we're not exactly the best of friends but let's be professional about this and keep our personalities out of it."

"OK, OK, keep your hair on. Professional it is," Andrea replied. "Now, I don't know that much about all this kinky stuff but, given that, from what little I do know, the submissive side is all about only speaking when you're spoken to and that sort of thing. As such I'm going to be the one doing most of the talking so I guess that means I'd best bone up on the South Africa stuff, and learn everything I can about this Emma Pearson. Angus might think that all we colonials sound the same but I'm not sure this Lady Mary will agree and that means I have to practice getting that accent right as well. All that is going to keep me busy for the rest of the day so, in the meantime, can you find out all you can about exactly what does go down at these things, dress code and so forth?"

"OK," Tamsin said and, as she sighed inside, she realised that, despite what she had just said, Andrea was already taking charge, bossing her about. The fact that Andrea was right didn't make it any easier.

"So, let's meet up at," Andrea glanced at the clock, "four o'clock and we can swap notes."

Tamsin went over to her desk and sat down. She started out by using Google and, inevitably, found herself taken to endless porn sites. However, after refining her search criteria a bit she did discover that there are a number of clubs where people meet for various kinds of kinky sex. From what she could find out, it mostly appeared to be suburban wife swapping with a bit of kink thrown in but then, as someone whose sexual preferences were still considered 'alternative' by many, she was hardly in a position to judge. What was certain was that a member of the royal family wouldn't be seen dead at any of these clubs. The one they were trying to gatecrash must be a far more private affair.

However, there was enough to allow her to put together a feel for what was appropriate. Ironically, here, the porn sites helped. By seeing what the fantasies were she could get an idea of what was expected and, from there, she could find suppliers. Based on what she found there seemed to be two basic trends; it was either leather or latex with not that much of an overlap. By four o'clock she had printed out quite a bit of both options and it was time to discuss them with Andrea.

"So, which way do you want to go?" Tamsin asked once she had shown the printouts to Andrea, "latex or leather?"

Andrea flicked back and forth, studying the options. 

"Leather, I reckon we go for leather," she said after a while. "It looks easier to deal with and I rather fancy the thought of you dressed in little more than a few leather straps. Oh, don't look like that, I was only joking. Did you track down any suppliers?" Tamsin passed her another printout. "Hmm, that looks OK. I guess we'll go tomorrow and visit this one; it seems to have the widest range. We've got a pretty decent budget on this story so we can get us both nicely togged up."

"I haven't been exactly idle either," Andrea continued, handing Tamsin a sheaf of papers. "This is everything we need to know about Paarl which, apparently, is where Emma Pearson comes from. Our cover story is that we used to run kennels breeding Rhodesian Ridgebacks but we're not happy with the post apartheid regime and have sold up and moved to England. Currently we're renting accommodation in Mayfair until we get ourselves sorted."

"Mayfair? How the hell will we swing that one? What if they want to check up on us? And what the fuck do I know about breeding dogs?"

"I've sorted the flat out with Angus. We're rather hoping that they will check up on us. The Daily Sleaze has a place just off Grosvenor Square that we can use. It's mainly where they stash surprise witnesses and the like but, as we have the top story at the moment, we get priority and we've got permission to take it over and use it as our address. And it's not just the flat we want them to check. The real Emma Pearson does breed dogs and Angus's contacts will give references if need be. As long as no one actually goes out there looking for the kennels we're covered. It's all in the file Angus gave us." Andrea opened the file to show that it was full of papers and photographs. "While you've been idly surfing the internet looking at porn I've been boning up on Emma Pearson's life. I think we can be pretty sure that they're going to quiz me quite thoroughly, even if it is disguised as small talk. That sort always want to know what school you went to so I've got to be perfect on the ins and outs of Durban Girls College as well. Meanwhile, all you'll have to do is sit there and look pretty so stop making all these petty objections."

"Just sit there and look pretty. I'll bet my bottom dollar that there will be a lot more to it than that," Tamsin retorted. 

That's as may be. Now, why don't you test me on my notes on Paarl."

By the end of the day Tamsin was, if not convinced, at least partially mollified. For all that Andrea was an arrogant bitch, she had worked hard, she had thoroughly learned the details of their back story and was as credible as she would ever be. It was agreed that, if the subject of Tamsin's English accent came up, it could be explained away by saying that she had a more humble English background and that they had met when Emma had been in England for Crufts. "But seeing as how you'll basically be keeping your mouth shut that shouldn't be too hard," Andrea commented. "As I said earlier, a 'slave' only speaks when spoken to, and all that."

"God, you're enjoying this, aren't you?" Tamsin said bitterly.

"Might be," Andrea quipped. "Now, are you fully up to speed? It's late and I think we've done enough for today. We'll meet up tomorrow morning at the flat and do what we need to do to make it look like the temporary residence of Emma Pearson and her companion. We'll need to bring in a few clothes, make up and the like, just enough to scatter around as if we lived there. I mean, if we get a home visit, and we're rather assuming that we will, when they want to use the loo then it has to look like we live there; there has to be a couple of toothbrushes in the tooth mug, that sort of thing. While we're at it, we'll want photos. Nothing special but there's no way Emma Pearson would be without her photos of her precious doggy-woggies. Can you see if the photo library has anything suitable and pick up some frames on the way in?"

It was only when she left the building some time later that Tamsin fully realised just how much Andrea, once again, had taken control. Either of them could have gone to the photo library, either of them could have arranged for the prints or bought the frames but, of course, once again it was her that was doing the dirty work. 

The next morning signals failure at Clapham junction meant that Tamsin was late and having to stop for frames put her in a foul mood by the time she arrived in Mayfair.

"And what time do you call this," Andrea said as she let her in. 

"Sorry, there was engineering work at..." Tamsin started


Royal Flush Ch. 01



Not interested," Andrea snapped. "Now, have you got the photo frames?"

Tamsin held out the shopping bag from Rymans. Andrea took it from her and rummaged through.

"God, couldn't you have got anything better than this," Andrea said, dismissively. "We're supposed to be a couple of classy broads, not two chavs from Essex."

"They're the best I could get," Tamsin protested.

"Well, seeing as how they're all we have they will have to do. Now, what else have you got?"

They went through to the bedroom where Andrea had already laid out some make up on the dressing table. Tamsin put her suitcase on the bed and opened it up. Andrea, pushed her aside and started rummaging through all the while making disparaging remarks. 

"For fuck's sake, Tamsin," Andrea complained, "What the fuck is all this. I'm pretty sure that Emma Pearson's companion wouldn't be allowed to wear plain cotton panties from Primark, nor would she buy her make up at Superdrug."

"But they're all I've got," Tamsin retorted. "You know I never use makeup so that's all I had lying around." 

"It's not about what you've got, it's about what Emma Pearson's companion would have and she certainly wouldn't have this. Put it away. I guess we'll have to go out shopping for you. Well, not for panties, my sex slave isn't allowed to wear them. Same goes for bras."

Privately Tamsin had to admit that there was a ghastly logic to all this. Andrea was, once again, right and, to appear convincing when 'in role' this was what would have to happen. However, that didn't mean, for one moment, that she actually liked any of it.

And then, with the flat readied for inspection, it was time to make the first phone call. Andrea went through to the lounge, putting her phone in speaker mode, and dialled the number Angus had given her.

"Good morning. Cootbourne House. How may I help you?" they heard when the phone was answered

"Ah, good morning, my name is Emma Pearson. I believe Lady Mary is expecting my call," Andrea said.

"One moment, please, I'll just check whether she is available at the moment."

"Emma, my dear," Lady Mary's voice over the phone was so strident that they hardly needed to have the speaker switched on. "I'm so glad you've got in touch. Lucy has been telling me the most tantalising snippets about you and I'm longing to see whether they're true. I gather you've just arrived from South Africa."

"That's right. Things simply aren't the same any more. We struggled on as long as we could but we've had enough and it seemed like the right time to return."

"I do understand how you feel," Lady Mary replied, "after all, once the darkies took over... oh, how dreadful of me. We're not supposed to say things like that but I'm sure you know what I mean."

"I do indeed," Andrea replied. Tamsin, listening in, was shocked to the core. She had been expecting a certain amount of racism and, in politer terms, that was indeed their supposed back story, but to hear such views expressed so openly was an eye opener. She wondered if the rest of the members of this club were going to be equally racist.

"I think it best if, in the first instance, we should have a little get together, just the two of us," Lady Mary continued. "There are some things you can't talk about over the phone and I'm dying to actually meet you. I'm in town tomorrow. I have to visit my dressmaker in Bond Street. I should be free about mid morning. How does that suit?"

"I have no commitments for tomorrow," Andrea replied. "None that can't be changed, anyway. If you're in Bond Street you're not too far from where I'm staying. Can I invite you for a spot of elevenses."

"Elevenses, that sounds splendid," Lady Mary gushed. Andrea gave her directions to the flat and Lady Mary agreed that she would come round to visit as soon as her dressmaker appointment was over.

"God, what an awful woman," Tamsin said as soon as Andrea had put the phone down. 

"Awful or not, she's the one we have to convince. If we're going to serve her elevenses we had best check out what we've got in the cupboards. We're going to need some posh tea, we can't serve her PG Tips. We've got to go shopping to get our outfits and some bits and pieces to scatter around as if we lived here so, if it turns out we need anything, we can stock up at Fortnum's whilst we're out. I assume this place comes with suitable crockery. She doesn't sound like the sort to accept tea from a tea bag and if we haven't got a tea pot we'll look stupid." 

Andrea and Tamsin went to the kitchen and checked through the cupboards. Whilst there wasn't the finest selection of china available what was there was good enough given that they were expected to be in rented accommodation while they found a suitable permanent home. By the time they had finished their inventory they had drawn up quite a shopping list and they headed out, in the first instance, for Piccadilly and Fortnum and Mason's. Andrea headed for the selection of teas and grabbed a liberal selection.

"I'm glad I'm not paying for this," Tamsin commented as they took their full basket to the checkout.

"Yeah, make sure we keep every receipt," Andrea replied. "And, if you think this is expensive, wait until we hit the clothes shop. Still, if Angus is correct, this one is worth every penny."

Then they took the bus down to Harrods to buy some bits and pieces they still needed to scatter around the flat to make it look like they lived there. Tamsin hated every moment. She wasn't one for expensive clothes or make up but Andrea insisted that they had to have something credible lying about on the dressing table. When they got to the checkout their company credit card took another hard hit and the pile of receipts was beginning to build.

And then it was on to the specialist clothes shop which, as Andrea had predicted, was also far from cheap. Tamsin was amazed at the prices being demanded, especially, as she pointed out to Andrea, when you took into account the fact that some of the outfits consisted of little more than a few leather straps. As ever, Andrea's more forceful personality took over and it wasn't long before she had selected outfits for both of them. For herself she selected a full length leather basque which came to just above her nipples, knee length boots with heels that were high, but not unreasonable, sheer black stockings and a leather thong arrangement. A leather skirt, which buckled at the waist, could be worn over the top of it all to give an almost 'normal', albeit rather racy, appearance.

There was no such normality for either of the outfits that Andrea selected for Tamsin. The first could hardly be called an outfit at all because it consisted of little more than wide leather wrist and ankle cuffs, and a pair of high heeled ankle boots which could be locked with a little padlock. When Tamsin protested that no one in their right mind would wear boots like that, Andrea just pointed to the many posters and display items and noted that they were the norm, rather than the exception and that the five inch heels were far from the most extreme available.

Tamsin wasn't sure whether the second outfit that Andrea had picked out for her was better or worse. Whilst there was less bare flesh on display and, to an extent, her breasts and groin were covered, the classic, not to say clichéd, black satin French maid's outfit played straight into stereotypes that an ardent feminist such as Tamsin loathed. She hadn't got much in the way of cleavage but the bodice was boned and laced like a corset so it constricted her torso and acted like a push up bra, offering her breasts up, so that what little she did have seemed to be on display. The neckline had been cut in such a way that the lace trimming just hid her nipples but her areolae were clearly visible. Below the waist the micro skirt was fully flared and designed so that the slightest movement would offer tantalising glimpses of what lay beneath. For a few brief moments Tamsin hoped that Andrea would agree to the optional frilly panties but Andrea insisted that they didn't fit the image they were trying to portray. With the selection made, they called over an assistant who took Tamsin off to the changing rooms to try the outfit on. When she emerged she looked at herself in the full length mirror and it was everything she had feared. She felt objectified, depersonalised, a gift‑wrapped object whose sexual availability was openly advertised. The fact that the assistant was gushing about how pretty she looked didn't help at all.

"That's perfect," Andrea commented when she came over. "Now come along, we've got plenty more to buy and time's getting on."

Tamsin and the assistant returned to the changing rooms so that Tamsin could get back into her jeans and tee shirt. When they returned to the shop floor Andrea was busy choosing a collar. The range available seemed limitless. On the one hand there were those that were little more than dog collars which, apart from the price tag, were identical to those you could find in any local pet shop. At the other end there were fantastic constructions in both leather and steel. Tamsin wasn't in the least bit surprised when Andrea went towards the more extreme end of the range but she ended up pleasantly surprised when Andrea picked out a simple loop of chromed steel which was actually quite stylish in a perverse way. 

The assistant asked if they wanted the attached name tag to be engraved and, if so, what with.

"I think 'Miss Emma's slut' would be suitable?" Andrea turned to Tamsin. "What do you think?"

"Please, Andrea, I don't want to do this...."

"Come along, don't be shy. Tell the nice lady what should be on your name tag. Tell her what you are."

Tamsin just stood there, teeth gritted.

"Is this your slut's first time out in public?" the assistant asked Andrea. "She seems a little unsure of herself. We have private rooms available if you would like to discipline her."

Horrified at how quickly this was getting out of hand Tamsin stared at Andrea but got nothing back. It would seem that the only way out of this would be to play along.

"Please put 'Miss Emma's slut' on the name tag," she said to the assistant.

The assistant looked at Andrea who just nodded.

"There, that wasn't too hard, was it," the assistant said as if to a small child before leaving to get this organised.

"Why did you have to do that?" Tamsin hissed.

"Because that's the way it goes," Andrea replied firmly. "What? Don't look at me like that. I didn't make the rules. I spent most of last night chatting with an old flame who's into all this stuff and, from what she tells me, slaves don't have names, well, apart from pet names depending on the Mistress's mood. Apparently slaves are supposed to be entirely driven by their uncontrollable sexual urges and are expected to respond to 'slut' or something like that. From what I gather it's all about depersonalising you, taking away your identity, subjugating your will to mine. Look, I'm just saying what I've been told and, if we're to appear convincing, we have to play this to the hilt."

"But why here? Why now? Why did you have to do it in front of the assistant?"

"Just mucking about," Andrea replied. "Look, we're going to have to go through a lot more than this if we're to persuade Lady Mary and her club that we're into all this kinky stuff so you had better get used to it. Think of this as part of the preparatory work."

"That wasn't just mucking about...," Tamsin started but was cut short when the assistant called Andrea over to clear up some details about which font to use on the name tag and Tamsin had to revert to playing along. 

With this done it was time to pay and they all went over to the tills. The assistant took out from behind the counter a bag of items that Andrea had selected whilst Tamsin had been in the changing rooms. Tamsin watched, slack jawed, as they were run through the bar-code reader. Cuffs, chains, hobbles, gags, paddles, canes and crops; Andrea seemed to have selected everything she could get her hands on. When the bill finally arrived it was well into four figures and Tamsin was glad that it wasn't coming out of her pocket.

Half an hour later and Andrea was busy letting them into the Mayfair flat. Tamsin wasn't quite sure how it had happened but, once again, she had ended up carrying all the bags. 

"Phew! West End shopping really wipes me out. Put the kettle on, will you?" Andrea demanded as she fell back on the sofa and kicked off her shoes.

"Why should I?" Tamsin protested.

"Oh, be a darling, will you?" Andrea replied. "My feet are killing me." And, before she knew what she was doing Tamsin was in the kitchen boiling the kettle and putting away the groceries.

"Thanks," Andrea said as Tamsin put the tea tray down in front of her. "Now, the next thing on the agenda is checking out all this new gear. I mean, you said it yourself; you're not used to walking in five inch heels so the more practice you get before tomorrow morning the better. When Lady Mary arrives we've got to look the part; we've got to look as if we've been doing this since forever, not like a couple of klutzes who just bought all the gear and haven't got a clue."

"Can't I at least drink my tea first?" Tamsin complained.

"Yeah, but don't take all day. The sooner we start the better."

As soon as the tea was finished Andrea stood up and, with a curt 'come along then', led Tamsin into the bedroom. They laid out their purchases on the bed and looked them over.

"OK, tomorrow, I should be in normal clothing. I can't see me being the type to be in fetish gear all the time. You, on the other hand, should wear the maid's outfit. I'm sure Emma Pearson is the type who would have her maid in full uniform whenever she entertains. When she arrives I'll answer the door and bring her through to the lounge. Then, while I chat, you appear from the kitchen and serve the tea. Fair enough? Let's try a dress rehearsal. Get your kit off and I'll help you get dressed."

"What, now?"

"Well, duh, yes, now. Oh, for fuck's sake, don't get all prissy on me. If we blow it tomorrow we blow everything. Don't you see that? We can't mess this one up, we really can't. Do you want to be the one to go back to Angus and tell him we blew our cover at the first meeting. Well I certainly don't. The hard work starts now. We practice and we practice until we're perfect and then we practice some more. In short we practice until we can convince Lady Mary that having you serve the tea wearing fetish gear is part and parcel of our everyday life. Get it?"

"OK, OK, you've made your point," Tamsin replied. Whatever her reluctance she had to admit that Andrea was right about the need to practice so, with a sigh, she started to take off her clothes. While she did so Andrea turned to the pile on the bed and sorted through the bits and pieces. There were three small engravings hanging on the wall and she took these down and replaced them with the riding crop, a tawse and a paddle, standing back to admire the effect. Meanwhile, Tamsin had stripped naked and was reaching for the maid's outfit which, with Andrea's help, she started to put on. As the lacing was at the back she needed Andrea's help to tighten the bodice and it seemed to Tamsin that Andrea was pulling the laces far tighter than was strictly necessary. After that she put on the shoes. Apart from a quick try out in the shop Tamsin had never worn heels this high and, when she tried to stand up in them, she was very unsteady on her feet.

"Do you see what I mean," Andrea commented. "By the looks of things, if we practice all night you'll only just be ready for tomorrow. Now, let's accessorise."

Tamsin soon found out what Andrea meant by 'accessorise'. Both her ankles and her wrists were fitted with cuffs and then joined by short lengths of chain. The maid's outfit, naturally, came with a little mop cap and that went on as well. When Andrea reached for the ball gag Tamsin started to complain but Andrea's insistence that they had to do a full rehearsal overrode her objections. "That way you won't be expected to speak, tomorrow," Andrea explained. With that done the finishing touch was the collar.

"Ooh, you look quite the part," Andrea said with a laugh as she clicked the last padlock into place. "Now, try walking up and down."

Still tottering on her heels, and using the footboard to steady herself, she set off along the bottom of the bed. In a way the chain between her ankle cuffs helped. She was forced to take small mincing steps rather than stride out. That, along with the way the heels distorted her gait, meant that she was forced to swing her hips. Andrea picked up a crop from off the hook on the wall and used the end of it to give Tamsin 'helpful' guidance. As Tamsin got to the end of the bed she caught sight of herself in the mirror and gave a little gasp. It had been bad enough in the shop but now she had the addition of the shoes, gag and cuffs. Trussed up like a turkey, gagged, collared and wearing those ridiculous ankle boots, she looked like something out of the worst sort of porn mag, a sexual object. The stupid, mincing gait she was forced to use as she walked made her skirt swing and, as it did so, it gave brief glimpses of what was, and was not, below. Andrea had her walking back and forth, back and forth until Tamsin's calves and ankles were aching but she had, at least, managed to achieve some sort of balance and was able to walk without support.

"That's it, you're getting the hang of it now," Andrea said grudgingly. "Now, let's see you serve the tea."

Tamsin tried to suggest that they take a break first but Andrea was having none of that and, using the crop, she guided Tamsin through to the lounge.

"Now then, you stand over there," Andrea pointed to a corner of the room, "I welcome Lady Mary and invite her to sit there," Andrea pointed to the sofa and, meanwhile, sat down in the opposite armchair. "Then I'll say 'Can I offer you some refreshments, Lady Mary? Tea, perhaps?' and, when she answers, I'll click my fingers like this," Andrea raised her right hand to about shoulder level and demonstrated. "OK, shall we try it?"

Tamsin really didn't have any choice in the matter. Time and time again Andrea ran her through the 'script', as it were, and, each time, she seemed to find fault. She demanded that Tamsin's poise should be perfect, that she should keep her eyes downcast, that she should give a curtsey before heading for the kitchen, that she should hold herself better, that she should...

Tamsin found that she was getting more and more upset. She knew how important this was, she knew how much their careers depended on getting this right but Andrea was bossing her around with no let up. Her ankles and calves were giving her real gip, the shoes pinched her toes, and she was dying for a break but, gagged as she was, there was no way she could say this. What was more, Andrea was a little heavy handed with the crop as she used it to guide her around. She would do better if only Andrea would leave her alone. As for actually making the tea, they didn't have enough real tea to waste but Andrea insisted that Tamsin should boil the kettle, fill the teapot, load up the tray and carry it through. Andrea would then, using her hands, 'ask' Lady Mary whether she wanted milk and sugar and Tamsin would have to pour out the hot water as if it were the real thing. Tamsin had nearly completed a successful run when the feel of Andrea's hand sliding up her inner thigh made her jump and she spilt everything.

"What?" Andrea said in reply to the exasperated look that Tamsin gave her, "that's exactly the sort of thing they would expect me to do. We've got to make this look real. Now, let's try it again."

In the end it didn't take all night but, it was well into the evening by the time Andrea was satisfied and Tamsin's nerves were in shreds and her feet were agony. Even then, Andrea wanted to run through it all one more time but Tamsin finally mutinied. She sat down on the sofa and flatly refused to move. When Andrea finally relented and removed the gag Tamsin pointed out that, if the blisters on her feet got any worse, then she wouldn't be able to walk at all and, therefore, any further practice would just make things worse, not better. Reluctantly Andrea agreed. They went back to the bedroom and Tamsin got out of costume. What with the padlocks on her shoes, ankle cuffs, wrist cuffs, gag, and collar it took quite a while to take off all the cuffs and collars. Tamsin suggested firmly that, as each padlock came with two keys, the spares should be stored safely in the middle draw of the dressing table.




Royal Flush Ch. 01



Once all the accessories were removed Andrea helped Tamsin out of the outfit. As the lacing was undone Tamsin felt as if she could breathe again and, when the dress was finally removed she stood, naked, flexing her body and enjoying the freedom of movement. Only a few hours ago she would have been shy doing this in front of Andrea but, after what she had been through, she didn't care anymore. 

"Oh, and sort that out before tomorrow," Andrea said, pointing at Tamsin's groin.

"What?"

"The fanny fluff," Andrea explained. 

"Fanny fluff?"

"Your pubes, dummy. In case you hadn't noticed every single 'slave' in every single picture I've seen has had a full Brazilian. We ought to get you properly waxed but there's not enough time. If you shave yourself tomorrow morning it should be good enough but, for god's sake don't cut yourself. It's the details like that that count."

Tamsin just nodded. This was one more indignity she was going to have to suffer for the sake of this story. Sure, she understood that one of them had to play the submissive but, at that moment, she was overcome with a wave of self pity, a wave of 'why me?' She turned to her clothes which she had left folded on the bed and started to get dressed.

"And, for Pete's sake, make sure you hide your normal clothes tomorrow. I can't see any reason why Lady Mary should come into the bedroom but, if she does, jeans and a gay pride tee shirt dumped all over the bed does not fit with the image."

"Yes, Ma'am," Tamsin replied bitterly.

"And that's another point. Again, if it all goes to plan you'll be gagged for the entire time she's here but, if for some reason you're not, then I can't be doing with all that 'Mistress' bollocks. You'll refer to me as 'Miss'."

"Yes, Miss," Tamsin's tone was hardly any better.

"Look, it wasn't my idea that you should play the submissive, it was Angus's. If you have any problems then I suggest that you take them up with him. In the meanwhile we're stuck doing this together so you might as well make some effort."

Tamsin bit back her response, turned back to the bed and carried on getting dressed. The suggestion that she wasn't making an effort really hurt. Andrea was being so unfair, she wasn't the one suffering the indignities, she wasn't the one with blisters all over her feet, she wasn't the one who was going to have to parade around in that ridiculous outfit. Tamsin could feel herself tearing up at the injustice of it all. She tried to hide this away but, inevitably, Andrea noticed.

"Look, I know I'm riding you hard but you'll thank me tomorrow when you have to do it for real," Andrea said in a rare flash of sympathy. "Just keep your eye on the prize. If we pull this one off... when we pull this one off, we'll hit the big time."

Tamsin looked at Andrea and gave the ghost of a smile.

"Come on, we've done enough for today Time to be heading home," Andrea continued. "We'll meet up back here at nine tomorrow, OK?"

"Yeah, that works for me," Tamsin agreed as she finished getting dressed.

The next morning Tamsin was quaking with nerves as she arrived at the Mayfair flat. She'd spent what had remained of the previous evening having a long, hot bath, followed by as much of a complete makeover as she could manage. Shaving her pubic hair had been awkward and she had ended up sitting on the edge of the bath with her make-up mirror in one hand and a pair of tweezers in the other but, in the end, she had completely depilated her pubic region and was, as the old saying went, as smooth as a baby's bottom. It was a strange feeling and, when she looked at herself in the mirror, felt open and exposed. She was shy enough about her body as it was, this just made things worse. What sort of girl shaved herself down there? 

But, if she were shy about being naked in front of a lover, how much worse was she in for today. There was no way she would be able to serve tea wearing that stupid outfit without displaying her all. Indeed, that was the whole point of the thing. She was on the verge of copping out but, as Angus had made quite clear, her job and, effectively, her career, depended on getting this one right. If she was going to be a journalist then she couldn't afford to make a mess of a big break like this one, whatever the cost.

She rang the front door bell, Andrea let her in and they went through to the lounge where Andrea had her notes on Paarl spread out across the coffee table. Tamsin could tell that she had been studying hard and, although Andrea had her 'confident' face on, Tamsin could tell that she was just as nervous.

"Last minute revision?" Tamsin asked.

"It's all right for you," Andrea replied with a hint of bitterness. "All you've got to do is serve the tea. I've got to talk intelligently about our life in Paarl. We've no real idea what time she's arriving. It could be any time between ten and midday. I guess we had best get into costume."

"Can we leave the shoes until the last possible minute? You should see the state of my feet this morning. The later we leave it, the better I'll be able to walk when I'm serving the tea."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Andrea agreed and, together, they went through to the bedroom to get changed. Tamsin was amazed when Andrea pulled out of the wardrobe a brand new Armani suit.

"Where on earth did you get that?" she asked.

"You're not the only one who needs to be in uniform. I've got to make a good impression. After all, I can't greet her wearing jeans and a tee shirt."

Once again Tamsin felt she was getting the short end of the stick. Much as she wouldn't have wanted the Armani at least it wasn't the stupid maid's outfit but, as ever, Andrea's logic was impeccable. She returned to the task in hand and continued to get undressed. Once they were both changed they put away the clothes they had arrived in and tidied around the bedroom. It wasn't until Andrea was completely convinced that they had done all they could that they returned to the lounge. While they waited, Andrea asked Tamsin to take the notes on Paarl and quiz her to make sure she had committed everything to mind. The tension was almost unbearable and it was hard to stop giggling at the thought of what they were about to do. 

It was nigh on eleven o'clock when the phone rang. Andrea looked at Tamsin as if to say 'here we go' and answered the call.

"Ah, Emma, it's Lady Mary here. We'll be with you in five minutes it that's OK."

"Certainly, Lady Mary," Andrea answered and, without even saying goodbye, Lady Mary hung up the phone.

"Quick, she's coming," Andrea said and the two women were near to panic as they rushed to the bedroom and fitted Tamsin with both the shoes and the gag. When everything was in place Andrea took the crop off the wall, lifted the back of Tamsin's skirt and gave her three quick stripes across her backside.

"Ow! What the fuck was that for," Tamsin screamed, or rather she didn't. Gagged as she was, the words were little more than a few strangled grunts. Her backside really hurt and she would have liked to have rubbed it better but the chain between her wrists meant that she couldn't reach.

"Just making it look real," Andrea explained as Tamsin stared at her with anger in her eyes. "Now, come along, she'll be here any moment. 

There was just time for one last check round before they returned to the lounge. Even so, they had hardly got there when the door bell rang.

"Change of plan. You answer it," Andrea said.

Tamsin, gagged as she was, could only roll her eyes to express her surprise and incredulity.

"Quick! Think about it. Emma bloody Pearson does not answer her own door. She gets her maid to do it. Come on, now, and, for fuck's sake, look like you're enjoying it."

Tamsin nearly mutinied but, with Lady Mary waiting on the doorstep, this was not the right moment to make a fuss. Bottling back her anger she went to the door of the flat, took two seconds to calm herself and, steeling herself for the ordeal, pinned on a smile and opened the door. The practice was over, this was the real thing.

Tamsin stood back as Lady Mary breezed on it. She was a tall, horsey woman conservatively dressed in a light grey twin-set and pearls. Everything about her spoke of old money. She had the poise and bearing of one who simply expected her every word to be obeyed without question. Tamsin guessed her age to be somewhere in her low forties but anywhere between thirty and fifty was a possibility. She looked Tamsin up and down briefly and, not in the slightest bit fazed by having the door answered by a gagged maid, swept past her into the lobby. Tamsin closed the door behind her and gestured her through to the lounge

"Ah, Lady Mary, so good to see you," Andrea said getting up, out of her chair. "Please, come on through and sit yourself down." 

"Emma, darling, delighted to meet you at last. Lucy has told me so much about you, well, bits and pieces, anyway," Lady Mary looked about her. "What a delightful little flat."

"Oh, this, this isn't mine, it's just a pied-a-terre until we get ourselves sorted. Most of our stuff is still in transit or in store somewhere down in Southampton. Moving is such an awful nuisance and doing business in SA is a frantic bore, nowadays. We're stuck while the lawyers do whatever it is that lawyers do so I'm renting here in the interim."

"Oh, I do understand," Lady Mary gushed. "One hears simply dreadful things from SA nowadays. It used to be such a beautiful country but, since the blacks took over, it's going to rack and ruin. Why I heard the other day about...

Tamsin, watching from her station in the corner, was, once again, horrified by the open racism that Lady Mary expressed. However, it played well to their back story and Andrea was able to go along with it. 

"Can I offer you tea?" Andrea asked after Lady Mary had got herself settled. "Earl Grey? Darjeeling? Lapsang Souchong, maybe?"

"Darjeeling would be splendid, darling," Lady Mary replied. 

Andrea clicked her fingers at Tamsin who went off to the kitchen to make the tea. Now she was glad of all the practice they had put in yesterday. Even with the acute throbbing that was coming from where the shoes pinched her toes, she was able to walk as if she had been doing this forever. She boiled the kettle, found the right tea caddy, filled the milk jug, sliced a lemon and checked that the sugar bowl had sufficient lumps of sugar and the relevant tongs. Then she put a selection of petit-fours on a plate and, bracing herself, took the whole lot through to the lounge. 

"How do you take your tea," Andrea asked as Tamsin put the tray down on the coffee table.

"Milk, no sugar, if you'd be so kind."

As Tamsin poured out the tea she was forced to lean over and she was aware that Lady Mary had leant back in her chair and was quite openly craning round so as to be able to get a good view of the backs of her legs. Swallowing back the rising gall Tamsin realised that this was where she really had to play her part. She was no longer Tamsin, she wasn't even Susan Ward, she was Emma Pearson's maid and she would have to play the part to the hilt. However distasteful it might be to her, if Lady Mary wanted to look at her backside then that was she she would get so, as she sorted the tea tray, she stayed bent over, making sure that Lady Mary got the view she was after.

"I see you're a believer in... err.. domestic discipline," Lady Mary said after a while. "Do you mind if I take a closer look?"

"Be my guest," Andrea replied.

Lady Mary reached out and ran her fingers across the red lines the crop had made. This made Tamsin shiver and the cup she was pouring rattled in its saucer. Trying her best to ignore the hand fondling her buttocks she concentrated on the task in hand before glancing up at Andrea who slipped her a sly wink.

"These stripes look recent," Lady Mary commented.

"Yes, just this morning I needed to remind her of her duties," Andrea replied. "Nothing special, just enough to prevent any slackness."

"Oh, I do understand. Staff can be such a problem if you don't keep them in their place. It's not just straightforward disobedience, attitude is so important as well."

"I couldn't agree more. If you let standards slip for just one moment, well, if you give them an inch then they take a mile," Andrea agreed.

"Mind you, I do find that Popsy, that's my personal maid, will sometimes be naughty simply as a ploy to get my attention. Why, sometimes it's as if they want to be punished. Do you find that with your staff?"

All this while, Lady Mary's fingers had continued to play with Tamsin's backside and, by now, had slipped between her thighs. Tamsin was, once again, glad of all the practice that she and Andrea had gone through the day before. Feeling this woman's hand groping between her thighs made her feel ill and, more than anything, she wanted to turn round and tell this awful person to keep her hands to herself. However, despite the revulsion, she knew that she was expected to play along with the 'want to be punished' line so she pushed back and, as she did so, she felt Lady Mary's fingers push inside her. That was almost the last straw. She bit down on the gag and concentrated hard on the tea pot simply to stop herself turning around and smacking the bitch. 

"It's the lack of self control I find most exasperating," Andrea said. "It was the same with the dogs I used to breed. They're only really happy when their under the control of a firm mistress. Once you start pandering to them, once you start letting their needs come before yours, you end up with the tail wagging the dog and it all ends in tears."

"You're so right, I couldn't agree more." Lady Mary agreed. For a few moments more she continued to play but, as Tamsin had her ankles hobbled, her legs weren't far enough apart to allow Lady Mary proper access and, after a while, she grew bored.

"You may continue to serve the tea," Andrea said once Lady Mary had finished.

Tamsin stood up again and passed round the tea cups and handed out the petit-fours. This done, she went back to her place in the corner of the room. 

"Yes, it's very pleasing to see you have your staff so well trained. And that brings me to the point of my visit. I think Lucy may have let slip that I run a sort of club. We like to arrange little soirées. Just us girls, a few old school chums from Roedean and Cheltenham, all top drawer, of course. It gives us a chance to relax together and share mutual interests. We're always on the lookout for new blood, as long, of course, as the applicant is suitable. Judging by the way you have this one trained, you'd fit right in. Maybe you would like to join us?"

"It's very kind of you to offer," Andrea replied. "Being so new to England we've yet to find the right social circle, people of our sort who share the same interests. Back in Paarl we rather kept ourselves to ourselves but there was always Lucy, and, of course, the Dawsons so we never lacked for company. Now we all seem to be scattered to the four winds."

"Dawson...," Lady Mary thought for a moment. "I'm not sure I know them but then my circle were based more in the Durban area. Are they still out there?"

"Yes, they're braving it out. Poor Jack has all his money tied up in the farm and selling is so hard now that things have changed. Now, can I offer you some more tea, or another of the petit-fours?"

"Oh, I shouldn't but... well, if you insist."

Andrea gestured at Tamsin who came on over and started to refresh the cups. With all the subtlety of a five year old Lady Mary dropped her spoon and, when Tamsin bent over to pick it up, Lady Mary 'accidentally' kicked it under the coffee table so that Tamsin had to get down on her hands and knees to retrieve it.

"Sometimes, at our soirées... well, there are those who like to share and those who are less keen," Lady Mary mused, her eyes firmly fixed on Tamsin's backside.

"I was always taught to share my toys," Andrea said with a laugh. 

It was almost an hour later that Lady Mary finally went. She drank two more cups of tea, and it was quite obvious that this had far more about having Tamsin bend over than having anything to do with thirst. This, of course, meant that she had to visit 'the little girl's room' and, having done so, asked to be shown round 'this darling little flat'. This was precisely what they had expected and their careful preparations were bearing fruit. Lady Mary was particularly taken with the crop, tawse and paddle decorating the bedroom. With her inspection completed she asked for the Dawson's phone number on the excuse that she had a friend going out that way. 

At last it seemed like she had seen enough. Lady Mary picked up her handbag and announced that she had to go as she had a luncheon appointment.

"Emma, my dear, thank you so much for the tea. It's been simply super to meet you and I'm so looking forward to seeing much more of you in the future. I'll have to have a quick chat among the rest of the girls but that's a mere formality. I'll be back in touch as soon as I can and let you know the about the next soiree."

And, with that, she was gone.

"God, what a ghastly woman," Tamsin said as soon as the gag was removed.

"Yeah, but she fell for it hook, line and sinker. Having you in role as my maid was the killer. She took one look at that tush of yours and she was lost. Do you see now why I had to mark you with the crop?"

"I guess so. I just wish you'd have warned me," Tamsin retorted.

"No you don't. It's like taking off a band-aid. It hurts less if you're not expecting it. It certainly got her attention. She couldn't keep her hands off you."

"You don't have to remind me. Ugh! I can still feel her hand groping around my... ugh!" Tamsin shuddered. "I know, I know, keep my eye on the prize and all that but this story had better be worthwhile. I'm paying a big enough price for it. Now, give me a hand getting out of this crap and then I'm off for a long, hot shower."



Royal Flush Ch. 02



****** Please Read This First *******

I know, I know, I usually don't bother with the disclaimer bits either. Blah, blah, blah, over 18, blah, blah, blah, don't read if easily offended, blah, blah, blah. But, just this once, please bear with me and read this one.

Firstly, this is chapter two of ten and the story will only make sense if you read it from the start. If you haven't already done so then I sincerely urge you stop and go to chapter one. It will be better that way, honest.

Secondly, this is a work of fiction and all the characters are completely fictional. In particular, one of the main characters is Princess Charlotte who is, according to chapter one, "about tenth in line for the throne". Now, in real life, there can only be one person who holds that position but this story is not real life and it's definitely not about her. Princess Charlotte is not a real person and any resemblance is purely coincidental. Before I get carted off to live out what is left of the rest of my life in the Tower Of London, I want to stress that this story is set in a parallel universe where Britain has a very different Royal family with a very different line of succession.

Secondly, briefly, my heartfelt thanks to all those who have helped so much. Special mention mentions must go, as always, to OneWhoAdores, 'V', and MartiniMan for plot advice, and not forgetting my editor, Wizard98x.

Fourthly, once again, I fall neatly between the BDSM and Lesbian Love categories. This story centres on a BDSM club and much of the action has a BDSM theme. However, it's a bit short on the whips and chains to really be a BDSM story. On the other hand those looking for a lesbian themed story may well end up complaining, as a critic once did, that all my stories seem to feature a D/s relationship. Yes, this one is no exception; it's a lesbian love story with BDSM overtones. If this is not what you're looking for stop reading now. That's kinder than voting one star because it's not what you were after.

Lastly, this is a story of deception and subterfuge. Most of the characters have at least two names, many three or even four. To help the reader keep track each chapter will start with a dramatis personae. The list for this chapter is:-

*Andrea, a journalist, masquerading as Emma Pearson from Paarl.
*Tamsin, another journalist, masquerading as Emma Pearson's sub, Susan Ward.
*Angus, Editor of the Daily Sleaze, a London based tabloid newspaper.
*Lady Mary, a lady, club name Voluptua.
*Popsy, her maid and chauffeur, club name Odyne.
*Euthenia, a friend of Lady Mary along with her sub, Calliope.
*Artemis another friend of Lady Mary's along with her sub Hipperia.

Enjoy the story

******

"Andrea, Tamsin, my office, now!" Angus's shout rang across the newsroom. The two women got up from their desks and went over to his office.

"I've just had a phone call from Jack Dawson. It seems like Lady Mary has taken the bait. Apparently she was most effusive and absolutely gushing about her new friend, Emma Pearson. Have you had any news from your end?"

"Not yet. I don't want to seem too pushy. I organised a pay-as-you-go mobile for this story and she's got the number. I'm waiting for her to call," Andrea spoke for them both.

"Given how quickly she got in touch with Jack it probably won't be too long. As soon as she does let me know. I have to be kept in the loop on this one. I want to know everything that goes on, every detail. Anything happens, you report to me. If anything doesn't happen you report to me. Just make sure I don't regret giving this one to a couple of greenhorns like you two. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," they chorused, and, with that, they were dismissed. Using the excuse of somewhere quiet to work while Andrea continued studying Emma Pearson's life they headed up to town and settled in to the Mayfair flat.

As if to prove Angus right they only had to wait until the early afternoon before Andrea's mobile rang. Andrea answered it and put it in speaker mode so that Tamsin could listen in as well.

"Emma, my dear," Lady Mary said, "I've spoken to some of the girls and they're literally dying to meet you. I was wondering if you have a free evening sometime soon."

"My diary's pretty clear at the moment," Andrea replied. "What do you suggest?"

"How do you feel about tomorrow? Can you manage that or is it too soon?" Lady Mary couldn't keep the enthusiasm out of her voice.

"Tomorrow? I'm pretty sure but just let me check," Andrea paused and rustled a few papers as if she were consulting her diary. "No, that's fine. I do have an appointment in the afternoon but I'm free all evening."

"So, why don't you come and have some diner? Nothing too formal; just you, me and a couple of the girls. Don't worry about finding your way down here. I'll send my car to pick you up around sixish, how would that suit?"

"Would you? Oh, that would be perfect. I haven't got around to buying myself a car yet and your British trains... oh, heavens, I don't know how you manage," Andrea replied.

"It's no problem at all; I wouldn't dream of having you come down by train. And, if could see your way to bringing that naughty little maid of yours with you, then she can help serve the meal." Tamsin could hear the lust in Lady Mary's voice.

"Of course, if you feel she would be useful," Andrea replied. "I do have one question though, what's the dress code? As I said, out in SA, these affairs were very informal and we all knew what was expected of us. Let me see, how should I put this... are you inviting Emma Pearson or Miss Emma?"

"Oh, Miss Emma, definitely Miss Emma," Lady Mary replied. "As for the dress code, well, we do like to make a bit of an effort and, as a guideline, I always feel that leather can be so, umm, stylish, don't you? If it makes things any easier, you can always get changed when you get here."

"That's very kind of you to offer but I don't think that will be necessary. So, just to confirm, we'll expect to be picked up around six o'clock tomorrow, is that right?"

"That's the ticket! I'm so glad you can make it. We're all longing to meet you. Until tomorrow then, bye!" And, with that, Lady Mary rang off.

"We're on," Andrea said triumphantly. "Dinner tomorrow at her place! Whether that includes Princess Charlotte or not we'll have to see. Exciting, isn't it?"

Tamsin was somewhat less enthusiastic. She could only guess at what her role as Emma's maid would involve but being described as 'naughty' didn't bode well. At the very least she would be expected to parade around in that awful outfit but she would be very surprised if that was the full extent of the indignities she would end up suffering. She shuddered at the memory of Lady Mary's hand groping under her skirt. There would surely be plenty more of that. Meanwhile Andrea was phoning Angus to tell him the good news.

For the rest of the day, and the bulk of the next, they worked together memorising Andrea's notes on Paarl and, at Andrea's insistence, they changed in and out of their respective outfits a couple of times so as to get used to wearing them and to stop them looking so new. Tamsin's feet still hurt where the shoes pinched and putting them on again was difficult but, as Andrea pointed out, as she would have to wear them for the dinner party she would just had to get used to it. 

When it came to trying on their clothes, Andrea needed just as much help as Tamsin had needed the previous day. Her long black leather basque was laced at the back and it had to be fastened pretty tightly if Andrea were to really get into role. When the last tug of the laces was done Andrea looked at herself in the mirror and commented "well, it does wonders for the figure but I'm not sure how I'm supposed to breathe in this thing, let alone eat. If Lady Mary is serving anything more than a light salad I'm goosed." Tamsin bit back the retort that sprung to mind. If the only thing she had to worry about was a tight corset then she would be a lot happier.

Whilst knelt down in front of Andrea so as to help with her stockings and boots, Tamsin noticed that Andrea had shaved herself leaving just a neat 'landing strip'. Whether she had done this as part of the role or whether this was normal for her, Tamsin could only guess. At least it made Tamsin feel less awkward about having a full Brazilian. She was even getting used to getting dressed and undressed around Andrea, something that had made her blush to her roots only a few days earlier. She would never be completely comfortable with being naked, let alone with the humiliating and degrading outfits she was forced to wear, but Andrea was right, these practice sessions were having a desensitising effect. 

And then, with six o'clock drawing near, they got changed for the last time and, more than ever before, they made sure that the details were perfect and that they both knew the agreed plot lines for what to do when the car arrived.

"Nervous?" Andrea asked with a bit of a giggle.

"Aren't you?" Tamsin asked back.

"Well, yeah. I know you think you have the tough part but I'm the one who'll get grilled all night about life in Paarl. All you have to do is act the hussy."

"All! You saw how excited that cow got last time. She couldn't keep her hands off my backside. And then there was all that crap about 'sharing'; we both know what that means. She just can't wait to have her evil way with me. You know she's gagging to give my backside a damn good thrashing and, what's more, I've got to pretend to enjoy it."

"Eye on the prize, remember, just keep eye on the prize," Andrea said but Tamsin wasn't sure which one of them she was reassuring, probably both.

"Oh, and while we're on the subject of who has the tough role, let me guess, before we leave, you're going to make my backside look more 'authentic' again," Tamsin said.

"Err...," Andrea paused. It had been one thing to do it on the spur of the moment with Tamsin gagged and Lady Mary waiting on the doorstep. To do it in cold blood was harder. "It does help with the illusion. Remember Lady Mary's reaction when she saw the wheals. I'm pretty sure that it was seeing them that convinced her that we were for real. We do need the same sort of reaction tonight."

"Well, if you're going to do it then let's get it over with. Come on, you know you want to." Tamsin went to the end of the bed, leant forward and grasped the footboard.

"I don't want to, well, not exactly," Andrea protested. "It's just that... well... just think of it as part of the disguise."

"Oh, for Pete's sake, stop making excuses and get on with it. At least this way I'm braced for it and, from the way that cow was looking me over the other day, I'm sure I'm in for far worse before the night is over," Tamsin said with some resentment.

"I know it seems unfair but..."

"Oh, just bloody do it, will you, before I change my mind."

Andrea took the crop off the wall and, before Tamsin really had time to react, lifted the back of Tamsin's skirt laid six stripes across her buttocks.

"Jesus!" Tamsin called out. For a long moment she just gripped the footboard of the bed, her white knuckles and the grimace on her face clearly showing the pain she was fighting. "That really fucking hurts, you know." She let go of the footboard and rubbed at her backside before turning to Andrea. "I don't care how hard it is to pretend that you're Emma Pearson from Paarl, you should be grateful you're not the 'slave' in this little game. Keeping an eye on the prize is a damn sight easier for some than others. Still, I guess I'm stuck with it now."

"Ooh, temper, temper," Andrea thought but wisely didn't say.

Ten minutes later they were sat together in the lounge, both in costume and, so as to be ready to answer the door, Tamsin was even gagged, collared and wearing the linked cuffs. Andrea turned on the TV to pass the time as they waited for the car to arrive. It was it was only a few minutes past six and the early evening news had just started when the front door bell rang. Andrea glanced at Tamsin, mouthed 'here we go' and motioned with her head that she should get up from the sofa where she was sitting and go and answer the door. As Tamsin tottered out of the lounge Andrea called out after her softly, "eye on the prize, remember, eye on the prize."

Tamsin checked through the spyhole in the door and, there on the doorstep, was a woman dressed in a light grey chauffeur's outfit which made her look a little like a sixties air hostess. This had to be Popsy. For a moment Tamsin's nerves overcame her. She really didn't want to do this but then, she had no choice, did she? Telling herself, once again, to 'keep my eye on the prize," she opened the door and gestured the waiting chauffeur into the hallway. Popsy was slight, blonde and quite pretty. As with Lady Mary, she was no longer in the first flush of youth, but she still carried an air of sweetness. They were still checking each other out when Andrea appeared at the lounge door. Popsy curtseyed to her.

"Ah, You must be Lady Mary's chauffeur," Andrea said brightly. "Popsy, isn't it?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I have the car waiting outside."

"Where outside? I hope I don't have too far to walk."

"I'm parked right outside the front door, Ma'am. As close as I could get."

"Very well, we don't want to keep Lady Mary waiting. I'll just be a few moments. Wait here." Andrea went back into the lounge, switched off the TV and returned carrying her handbag. While she did so Tamsin, following their prearranged script, went to the cupboard next to the front door and fetched out Andrea's knee length trench coat so as to be able to help her on with it.

"Lead on," she said to Popsy and, with a jolt, Tamsin realised that, when Andrea had talked about wearing the trench coat and how Tamsin would help her into it, that was all they had discussed. There was no such covering for her and she would have to go out in public wearing just the maid's costume. The ridiculously short skirt, along with the gag, the cuffs and the collar, were hardly subtle and barely legal. It had been bad enough flouncing around in the flat. Once out on the street the slightest breath of wind, or awkward pose and she'd be in danger of getting arrested. Once again she found herself trapped; she had to go along with this or the game was up. Praying that both the lobby and lift would be deserted she followed Andrea and Popsy out of the flat.

Lady Mary's Bentley was, indeed, parked within twenty yards of the front entrance and, once they were out of the door, Tamsin was thankful that she had only a short distance to walk. She glanced nervously up and down the mews. Even this quiet corner of Mayfair was busy enough at this time of day and all she could do was pray that no one would come close enough to make out the details of how she was dressed. Popsy, in her role as chauffeur, opened the rear door for Andrea and ushered her inside. Tamsin was about to follow when Popsy told her, rather haughtily, that, as 'staff', she was to travel in the front seat. 

Getting into the car while retaining any modesty was quit a feat and, once in, Tamsin's shackled wrists prevented her reaching behind and pulling down what little there was of her skirt. This meant that it rode up behind her and she was left sitting with her bare buttocks against the leather of the seats. At least it was smooth and cool and helped towards soothing the stripes left by the crop. She did up her seat belt and settled back for the ride.

At first, as Popsy drove the Bentley through the streets of London, the three woman just sat in silence. Tamsin, of course, was gagged and, Andrea's role, based on what they had seen of Lady Mary, was one of haughty superiority and not the sort to waste time idly chatting with the chauffeur. After a while the silence became oppressive and all three were grateful when Andrea suggested that Popsy should turn the radio on. From then on the three of them sat listening to Radio Four's Six O'clock news; dull stuff but much better than silence. Tamsin, sat in the front seat, was well aware of the way the ostentatious car stood out and, when they were stuck in traffic, she felt as if the whole world were watching. Once, waiting for traffic lights on their way through Knightsbridge, she saw, out of the corner of her eye, someone pointing at her. All she could do was squirm in embarrassment as the blood rushed to her face. However, even with the London traffic, it wasn't long before they were on the motorway and, shortly after that, making their way through the lanes of Surrey. They were somewhere south of Godalming when Popsy, using her mobile in hands free mode, made a call and announced, 'We'll be there in five minutes, M'Lady'. Tamsin felt her pulse quicken. Whatever it was that she was to be put through was just around the corner.

Cootbourne House, when they arrived, was surrounded by a high brick wall protecting both it and the grounds from being seen from the road. As they approached the gate Popsy reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a remote control. She clicked the relevant button and the it swung back revealing the drive and the large Georgian house at the end of it. 

"How the other half lives," Tamsin thought to herself. As someone who had grown up in the back streets of Streatham in South London she had strong feelings about the distribution of wealth and now this opulence provided yet another reason to despise Lady Mary. The thought of using a front page exposé in the Daily Sleaze as a way of bringing Lady Mary's over privileged world crashing to the ground with was suddenly a lot more appealing. If she had to suffer a smacked bottom along the way, well, she'd keep her eye on the prize and grin and bear it.

The Bentley swept to a halt in front of the house where Lady Mary, alerted by Popsy's phone call, was standing at the front door waiting for them. As soon as the car stopped Lady Mary came down the steps towards them. She was dressed in a white garment that Andrea and Tamsin were later to discover was called a peplos. The loosely draped folds of cloth were fastened by a gold coloured belt and the effect made her look a bit like a Greek goddess. For a moment, Tamsin wondered if Andrea had got the dress code wrong but there were hints of black leather underneath and she clearly remembered Lady Mary saying that leather was stylish. Popsy told Tamsin to wait where she was before getting out of the car and going round to open the door for Andrea.

"Emma, darling, how simply super to see you. Come on in, come on in. The girls are just dying to meet you." And, with that, Andrea was led into the house. Popsy got back into the car and drove round to the yard at the back of the house where she parked up. But, before getting out of the car, she looked across at Tamsin, her face full of concern.

"You don't need to look so scared," she said gently. "We're all quite friendly, here. Come on in and meet the gang, well, the downstairs half, anyway."

Tamsin hadn't realised that she was looking scared but, well, she wasn't surprised. After all, this was it; this was the entrance to the lion's den. Still, Popsy's friendly smile was welcoming and did much to put her at her ease.

They both got out of the car and, as they walked towards the house, Tamsin looked around the yard. One side was stabling and two horses could be seen safely tucked away in their stalls. The other side was outhouses. All in all it was an impressive building and, to Tamsin's mind, far too big for just Lady Mary and Popsy. They went through the back door and into the kitchen. Over by the stove were two women, both wearing little more than cook's aprons, who were working together, fussing over something in a saucepan.

"Hi, ladies," Popsy called out. "Meet the new girl in town."

"Hi there, I'm Calliope," one of the women turned and came over, "and the one completely ruining the gravy is Hipperia." Hipperia looked up from the stove and waved her spatula in welcome. "Come on in. If your boss is here then it will be time for more drinks. Come on up with me and help serve."




Royal Flush Ch. 02



Tamsin was rather taken aback by the warmth of the welcome. She was all ready to hate these people, to loathe them and all they stood for but Calliope could not have been nicer. What also helped put her at her ease was the way she was no longer the only one wearing such scant clothing. Calliope, who was a tall, leggy blonde, wore, apart from her apron, shoes similar to Tamsin's, a strappy harness affair about her torso, a black, heavy duty, collar and, somewhat to Tamsin's surprise, a half mask. The whole ensemble was made from matching black leather. Hipperia, who was, not to put too fine a point on it, short, dark and a shade on the plump side, wore a red leather corset which had matching collar, cuffs and, like Calliope, a half mask. The masks, presumably, went along with the strange Greek names to provide anonymity. It would seem that, whereas Lady Mary and Popsy had few qualms about letting Andrea and Tamsin know who they were, the other participants were rather more circumspect. Even so, Tamsin could see enough to know that neither was Princess Charlotte.

"Come on then," Calliope said as she took off her apron, hung it up and headed for the door. 

It was bizarre in the extreme to be following an all but naked woman as she led Tamsin through a passageway into the main body of the house and then into one of the reception rooms. Once there, Tamsin had barely time to register the four Dommes sat in their armchairs except to notice that there were two she had yet to meet, each dressed in a similar fashion to Lady Mary and, like their subs, wearing masks. But there was no time for staring, Calliope took Tamsin over to the sideboard where the drinks were laid out.

"Lady Mary, G and T, ice and lime. Euthenia, she's my Domme, vodka tonic, ice and easy on the tonic, Artemis, that's Hipperia's Domme, glass of Chardonnay," Calliope whispered. "What does yours take?"

Tamsin pointed at the gin bottle and then at the tonic.

"Ice and lime?" Calliope queried. Tamsin just nodded.

"There's far too much whispering and not enough pouring going on," Lady Mary said severely.

"My apologies, Lady Mary, I'm just making sure the new maid knows which drinks to pour," Calliope replied.

"Well, get a move on."

"Yes, Lady Mary, straight away." 

Despite her nervousness, acting as some sort of waitress was pretty straightforward and Tamsin just concentrated on helping Calliope pour out the drinks and put them on a tray. Having done so Calliope nudged the tray towards Tamsin and motioned with her head that she should take the drinks over to the Dommes. Tamsin's nerves went into overdrive as, suddenly a shade unsteady on her heels, she carried the tray over to where the Dommes were sitting. She had to concentrate, had to put to one side the grotesqueness of the situation and all her fears over where this was heading. She went first to Lady Mary; that one was easy, she was one of the G and T's. Tamsin came to the side of her armchair, turned the tray so that the relevant drink was facing Lady Mary and gave a curtsey. Lady Mary took her drink and gave Tamsin a little smile. Artemis was sat in the next armchair and, in her flustered state, Tamsin couldn't remember whether she was the vodka tonic or the glass of Chardonnay. Rattled, she turned the tray so that the vodka tonic was facing outwards. There was a long pause as Artemis looked at the tray and then at Tamsin and then turned to the room in general.

"Is this your maid?" Artemis asked Andrea and, from the tone of her voice, Tamsin just knew she was in trouble

"She is, indeed. Is there a problem?" Andrea replied.

"She's just offered me the wrong drink. After all the whispering we've just witnessed it seems a little careless to be so forgetful. I wouldn't want to intrude in the discipline of another's staff but, if mine were guilty of such sloppy behaviour..." Artemis left the sentence hanging.

"I can only apologise for her slackness," Andrea responded airily. "She can be such a ditzy little thing I sometimes don't know why I put up with her. Maybe, as you're the offended party, you'd like to give her whatever punishment you feel is suitable. Should you chose to do so I'd be most grateful. It will save me the bother of having to punish her later."

Tamsin's heart sunk as she was so easily offered up but, in her heart, she knew that Andrea was just playing to the script. She had known that she would get 'punished' at some point but she hadn't reckoned on it happening so soon. She lowered her eyes and stared at the floor in front of her. 

"My drink is the Chardonnay," Artemis said to Tamsin as she reached across the tray and took the right glass. "Serve the other two, put the tray back on the sideboard and return to me." 

Tamsin did as she was told and returned to stand in front of Artemis who looked her up and down. Tamsin was literally quaking with fear and in danger of peeing herself. This was all too much. Her worst fears about this job were about to come true and she was supposed to pretend to enjoy it. That was impossible. She wished she had never got into this. However, there was no way out without blowing everything.

"She's quite a pretty little thing and nicely timid. Mind you, that doesn't excuse handing me the wrong drink," Artemis said to the room at large before turning specifically to Andrea. "Is there a reason why she's gagged or is that normal?"

"As she was helping me dress she spoke out of turn; showed no respect at all. I found it necessary to punish her and put her in a gag for the rest of the day," Andrea replied.

"Punish her?"

"Nothing too severe. Six light taps with the crop across the backside."

"Really," Artemis turned her attention back to Tamsin. "Turn around, girl, and lift up your skirt. Let me see." 

Tamsin shuffled around so that her back was to Artemis and then reached for the hem of her skirt. With her wrists linked by the short length of chain Tamsin couldn't reach behind herself so she compromised by pulling one side up as high as possible. She was more than aware that this uncovered more than just her backside and both Euthenia and Lady Mary, along with Calliope, over by the sideboard, were all watching avidly. 

"Higher, girl. Let me get a proper look. Yes, that's the way, now move a little closer," Artemis added.

Still holding up her skirt Tamsin shuffled backwards. Artemis sat forward in her chair and reached out and grabbed the hem of her skirt and used it to pull her even closer. And then, just as with Lady Mary back in the London flat, Tamsin felt that creepy sensation of another's unbidden hands groping around her buttocks, tracing the lines that the crop had left. Then Artemis's hands gripped Tamsin's hips and turned her around. This time her fingers reached for Tamsin's nether lips and gently teased them apart. Every fibre in Tamsin's body wanted to pull away but that would ruin the illusion. She had to play along, she had to appear willing. Mentally gritting her teeth she pushed her hips forward, offering herself to Artemis.

"Always the same with the timid ones. Mousy quiet on the outside, rampant hussies once you get them started," Artemis laughed. "Look at her pushing herself forward; she's loving every second, isn't she? Come a little closer... er.... does she have a club name yet?"

"Club name? Are those the Greek names you're using?" Andrea said in response. "Please, tell me about these club names."

"We've got a little club and, when we meet, our members like to keep things as anonymous as possible," Lady Mary explained. "So many of us have high profile public lives that we like the club to be a haven where we can escape for a while. Wearing masks and having 'club' names allows us to leave our everyday selves at the door and enter a fantasy world, so to speak. We find it easier to be who we want to be when we don't have to be who we are. I will admit I've spent some time looking into what names you and your maid would be given."

"We don't get to choose, then," Andrea said.

"Oh, no. We have a little ceremony where... but I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's just relax and get to know each other first.

"Am I allowed ask what your club name is?" Andrea said.

"Oh, I'm Voluptua, the goddess of sensual pleasure. It somehow seemed appropriate," Lady Mary said with a laugh. "All our club names come from Greek mythology. Euthenia and Artemis you've already met. Over there, by the sideboard, you have Calliope, Popsy, who drove you here, her club name is Odyne, and it won't be long before you meet Hipperia, Artemis' little pet who is, hopefully, in the kitchen preparing dinner. I know it's all a bit confusing but you'll soon get used to it."

While Lady Mary was explaining about club names Artemis was still using her fingers to fondle Tamsin and her response to this was becoming less and less feigned. Maybe there was something to what Lady Mary was talking about. Although she was without a mask in the strict sense of the word, her whole role was effectively a mask and this was all a fantasy world. She was still, understandably, concerned about what her 'punishment' would involve but, in the meanwhile, her only way of coping was to become so immersed in the role that, despite her revulsion, she was becoming aroused. Of course, it helped that Artemis was no novice and knew exactly what she was doing but mere mechanics wasn't the only reason. There was something about this fantasy, this role play, this escape, that was, despite the collar and cuffs, intensely liberating. Once, at the request of a lover, she had experimented with light bondage and, whilst real capture and rape would be her worst nightmare, it had been thrilling to lie there crying out 'Help! Help!' whilst her girlfriend of the time had her "evil" way with her. This was the same sort of thing but taken to a much higher level.

"Oh, she is a sexy little thing, isn't she?" Artemis said with a laugh. "All that sweet blushing innocence on the outside and a wanton slut on the inside. It's no wonder that even after her earlier punishment she's still misbehaving. She just wants to be punished, isn't that right?" Artemis looked Tamsin straight in the eye and all Tamsin could do in return is blush. "She's so wanton that she's getting all excited. Just look at her rubbing herself against my hand. That's not the idea at all; this is supposed to be punishment, not pleasure. Calliope," she called over, "fetch me a tawse, something suitable for such a naughty little maid."

Calliope opened the top drawer of the sideboard and took out a leather strap, a little over an inch wide and maybe eighteen inches long. As is traditional, it was split into two tails for around half its length. She took this over to Artemis who removed her hand from Tamsin's groin, took the tawse from Calliope and swished it a couple of times through the air. Tamsin blanched. Whereas she had already felt the crop across her backside that had been wielded by Andrea who, for all their differences, had been out to mark rather than hurt. Artemis, on the other hand, was working under the assumption that Tamsin was a 'naughty little maid' would actually welcome the pain.

"Does your maid need to be held down while she's being punished?" Artemis asked, conversationally. "I know for a fact that Lady Mary can provide a punishment bench if required but I'd prefer not to go to all that bother."

"Oh, I agree, a punishment bench would be going to far too much trouble. Whilst a bench is efficacious for full punishments, she should be able to keep still for something as mild as a tawse," Andrea replied. "My general rule is that, if she can't stay still, then that particular stroke doesn't count towards the total."

"A commendable approach. Very well, then, it's time we got your maid into position. Bend over, girl, and grasp your ankles," Artemis ordered.

Tamsin leant forward, reached down and grasped her ankles but, even so, she was not positioned as Artemis required. With an audible sigh of exasperation she got up out of her chair and repositioned Tamsin so that her posterior was directly presented to the other Dommes and her feet were as wide apart as the chain between her ankles would permit. Artemis then lifted up the back of Tamsin's skirt and tucked it into the ties of the apron that came with the maid's outfit. Tamsin knew that this position was chosen so that she was 'on display', so that she was left with no dignity. As Tamsin looked back through the gap between her calves and saw the Domme's rapt attention, it was certainly seemed to be working. As far as they were concerned she had become an upturned backside, open, unprotected and vulnerable.

"As it was only a mild forgetfulness I think a round half dozen should be ample for the moment," Artemis said conversationally to Andrea.

"If you feel that is appropriate," Andrea replied lightly.

Artemis stood at Tamsin's side but, rather than just starting the punishment, she placed the hand holding the tawse on the small of Tamsin's back and, with the other, stroked the rounded globes of her buttocks. 

"She's not as well padded as my Hipperia," she commented, "but she is very pleasing, for all that."

"Very few are as well padded as your Hipperia," Lady Mary laughed. "But I agree with you. This one's backside is just crying out to be paddled."

"Ha, I can't think of a girl's backside presented in this way that you didn't think was crying out to be paddled." Euthenia joined in the joke. "Come along Artemis, are we going to see some spanking or are we just going to sit here all evening admiring a pair of well presented buttocks?"

"Well, there's much to admire but...," thwack, without warning the first stroke fell and Tamsin cried out in surprise as much as pain, albeit that her cry was muffled by the gag. She tightened the grip on her ankles and, as the ribbon of fire blazed across her buttocks, she repeated once more the mantra of keeping her eye on the prize. In a way the gag helped. She bit down as hard as she could, crushing the rubber ball between her jaws. She was just getting used to the pain, just catching her breath again, when, thwack, the second blow fell, parallel to and just below the first one. Twice the number of stripes meant twice the agony and she had to fight every urge to rebel, to stand up, to fend off the blows. Not moving, just staying in position, was almost as hard as dealing with the pain. Again there was a pause, again she was just beginning to recover her composure, just beginning to relax a bit, when the next blow fell. 

Tamsin was beginning to realise just how much Artemis really knew what she was doing, really knew just how to pace the blows so as to let each one sink in but not to let it subside. By the fourth blow Tamsin's tears had started in earnest and her nose was snotting up. With her mouth gagged she had to sniff it up so as to breathe. This could hardly get less dignified. Her sole focus was now on survival, of seeing this through; not that she had much choice in the matter. Just two more, just two more to go, but staying still was agony in itself. The mere taps that Andrea had given her with the crop had been nothing on this. The fifth stroke fell and, by now, Artemis had worked her way down to the crease between buttock and thigh. Here there was less padding and the pain was more direct. Still, only one more to go.

"As I was saying, I feel that a pretty pair of buttocks are much improved by being properly marked. Don't you agree, ladies?" Artemis said conversationally. 

"I have to say, you're very neat, very methodical," Andrea commented. "I've never seen strips so evenly placed."

"I can't be doing with sloppy work," Artemis said, rather haughtily. "If a job is worth doing, it's worth doing properly. Talking of which...," thwack, the sixth and final stroke blazed across the back of Tamsin's thighs. She rocked forward and almost had to take a step to stop herself from falling. Shaking like a leaf she remained bent over, fiercely gripping her ankles and trying to come to terms with the pain.

And then... and then, nothing. Artemis sat back down and the four Dommes returned to their chatting as if nothing were in any way out of the ordinary. Tamsin, meanwhile, was still bent over, her hands white-knuckled as they gripped her ankles trying to absorb the pain. But it wasn't just the roaring furnace of her backside that was troubling her. There was also the discomfort of this demeaning position. The backs of her thighs ached and she would have given anything to be allowed to stand up. More than that, she wanted to blow her nose so as to be able to breathe properly. What is more, the physical discomfort of the pose was matched by it's lack of dignity, bent forward, obscenely open, everything on display. And they weren't even paying attention. It was as if she were suffering for nothing.

As the minutes dragged by simply staying in position became harder and harder. The urge to stand up, to rub her buttocks, to relieve the increasing tension in her thighs, to get out of this ridiculous position, was getting stronger and stronger. But it wasn't just the physical side. Being ignored was just as frustrating. She was also having to fight back the urge to, despite the gag, stand up and shout 'Oi, what about me!' 

"OK, that's long enough. You can stand up now," Artemis said finally when maybe ten minutes had passed. 

'About bloody time too,' Tamsin thought to herself as she slowly, gingerly, stood up again. The ends of the apron ties fell down behind her and, as they brushed against her battered flesh, even this softest of touches was enough to make her flinch. With all the crying her face was a mess, her hair was dishevelled and her nose was running. For a while Artemis just looked at her as if waiting for her to compose herself was a mildly annoying but necessary part of the process.

"Well, girl, have you learnt your lesson? Will you get the drinks right in future?" Artemis asked. Tamsin could only nod in reply. "Hmm... we'll see, won't we," Artemis continued. "Now come and stand next to me."

Tamsin went over and stood next to the chair and, when instructed, turned around so that her backside was facing Artemis. She wasn't in the least bit surprised when she felt the tips of Artemis' fingers gently tracing out the raised lines of the welts across her skin. 

"Yes, a pretty little backside like this looks so much better for a quick tanning. Now, take this and put it away," Artemis handed Tamsin the tawse, "and, when you've done so, get Calliope to take you to the bathroom and wipe your face. Then I want you straight back here and Calliope can return to her place in the kitchen," and, with an airy wave, Artemis dismissed them both. Tamsin noticed that Calliope gave a little curtsey before she left so she followed suit. 

Calliope led her over to the sideboard and opened the top drawer so that Tamsin could put the tawse away. As she did so she could see that there were many other straps, paddles, crops and canes all waiting ready for use. Calliope gave Tamsin a little wink when she noticed her staring. Tamsin felt her stomach churn at the thought of which implement would be used on her next time. She had already tasted the tawse and, albeit at a pretty mild level, the crop. She didn't particularly relish any of the others on offer. 

Calliope then led her to a downstairs bathroom and stood her in front of the basin. Tamsin looked at herself in the mirror. Her tear stained face told it's own story; this was going to be a long night. Calliope took a tissue and gave it to Tamsin so she could blow her nose. Then she ran the cold tap, rinsed out a flannel and used it to wipe down Tamsin's face. 

"Here, try this," Calliope said gently as she rinsed out the flannel again, this time using cold water, and held it gently against Tamsin's buttocks. Oh, bliss! However, they couldn't linger and, all too soon Calliope was saying, "come on, we can't leave them waiting". Calliope headed for the kitchen leaving Tamsin to return to her post, next to the sideboard in the lounge. She stood mutely watching the Dommes and wishing she could do something to ease the fire in her backside.




Royal Flush Ch. 02



"I understand you breed dogs," Lady Mary asked Andrea.

"Yes, well, I did. Rhodesian Ridgebacks. A marvellous breed. They were originally bred for hunting lions. As long as you train them right you'll go a long way to find a more loyal breed."

"And do you intend to take up breeding dogs here in the UK?"

"Well, once I've got myself settled. It's going to take a while to set it all up."

"Personally I keep horses," Artemis cut in. "Sometimes there can be an interesting cross over. My Hipperia, for example, responds well when trained as a pony girl. If the weather's fine we have been know to run races in the paddock. How does that sound?"

"Pony girls, I'll admit it's not something I've tried. Back in Paarl we didn't really have the facilities." Andrea thought fast. Wasn't she supposed to be a dog breeder? If they could have pony girls then she could have puppy girls. "Now, puppy play on the other hand...." She left the sentence dangling; she was going to have to wing this while she thought about the details.

"Puppy play?"

"Oh yes, naughty puppies spend a night in the kennels. Good puppies get rewarded by being allowed to sleep in the basket at the foot of my bed. You know the sort of thing," Andrea extemporised.

"That does sound like fun. Maybe, next time, you can bring your puppy along with you."

"Oh, I'd be delighted to do so."

It wasn't long before Popsy came, curtseyed to the Dommes, and announced that dinner was served. She had changed out of her chauffeur's outfit and was wearing a leather waspie corset with matching collar and cuffs. 

"Shall we, ladies?" Lady Mary asked as she got to her feet. She led them through to the dining room with Popsy and Tamsin following on. Popsy took Tamsin to the sideboard, told her that she was to serve the wine and showed her the bottle of Sancerre that was to accompany the first course. Tamsin opened the bottle and took it to the table to pour it out. She was serving Lady Mary when, to her complete lack of surprise, she felt a hand groping her backside and reaching up between her thighs. 'Here we go,' she thought to herself as Lady Mary's fingers worked their way higher. She braced herself as she stood, trying to smile, waiting for Lady Mary to have her way.

"Your puppy girl, I assume she has a tail?" Lady Mary asked Andrea.

"Oh, certainly," Andrea replied.

"And is it fitted in the usual way?" Lady Mary asked casually. Tamsin could feel Lady Mary's fingers probing at her backside and wondered just how advisable this was at the dinner table.

"Is there any other," Andrea laughed, wondering exactly what the usual way was.

"It's just that... well... I don't actually have any puppy tails but I do have a collection of pony tails. I wonder if..." Lady Mary, whose fingertips were now probing Tamsin's sphincter, was a subtle as a brick.

"If you would like to try a pony tail on my maid that would be fine by me," Andrea replied. "Shall we wait for after the meal?"

"That would probably be best," Lady Mary conceded reluctantly. "Now, you must try these prawns. Artemis's Hipperia is a genius in the kitchen and her chilli prawns are to die for."

And, with that, Lady Mary returned her hand to the table and Tamsin could move on to serve the rest of the Dommes.

Lady Mary wasn't wrong, Hipperia was, indeed, a genius in the kitchen and the rack of lamb that followed the first course was also mouth-wateringly good. Of course Tamsin, as she served a rather fine Merlot to go with the lamb, couldn't partake but could only look on. She assumed that the other 'maids' were grabbing bits and pieces when they went to the kitchen but, being both gagged and stuck in the dining room, she was going hungry. Euthenia noted this as Tamsin was topping up her glass.

"I know she's only staff but I do feel our pretty little maid here is missing out. Does anyone mind if I feed her?"

"You're too soft on them," Artemis commented.

"It's hardly necessary but, if you'd like to, I have no objections," Andrea said.

"Kneel", Euthenia ordered and Tamsin left the bottle on the table and knelt down on the floor next to her. Andrea passed over the keys and, after a bit of of fiddling with the lock, Tamsin was, for the first time since they had left the London flat, without the gag. She flexed her jaw trying to get the stiffness out while Euthenia put the gag down on her side plate and handed the keys back to Andrea.

"Would you like some food?" Euthenia asked Tamsin.

Tamsin, remembering the 'slaves don't talk' thing, just nodded.

"Open wide, then." 

Tamsin knelt with her head up and her mouth open looking for all the world like some sort of fledgling bird. As the meal progressed Euthenia would, from time to time, feed her morsels from her plate. Whilst, Tamsin could confirm that Hipperia's cooking was, indeed, superb, somehow this was one of the most degrading things she had been forced to do so far. It wasn't so much that she was on her knees, that was part and parcel of what she had expected, it was that she was totally beholden to this woman for something as basic as food and her upturned face and open mouth reinforced that dependency.

"I can see why you have her as a puppy girl," Euthenia said. "I'm not sure how anyone can resist those big, puppy dog eyes."

"Puppy girl or not, I'm not sure I approve of you feeding the pets at the table," Artemis said crossly.

"Oh don't be such a spoilsport. You've had your fun with her, now let me have mine. Anyway, there's no harm in feeding pets at the table as long as they're well trained and this one seems to be superbly taught." she turned and looked down at Tamsin. You are well trained, aren't you?"

Without really knowing why Tamsin barked in response. It just seemed right that, if she were to have to play along in this 'puppy' role, then barking would be the only speech allowed.

"Oh perfect! Absolutely perfect!" Euthenia exclaimed. "What a clever little puppy she is!" Euthenia picked up the gag from where it lay on her side plate and tossed it into the corner of the room. "Fetch, little puppy, fetch!"

This was just the next stage in the nightmare but at least it didn't involve getting her backside tanned. Tamsin tried to look enthusiastic as she scampered across the room on her hands and knees, picked up the gag in her mouth, carried it back to Euthenia and dropped it in her lap.

"Priceless, simply priceless! What a poppet she is!" Euthenia gushed. "Oh, Lady Mary, are you sure you haven't got a puppy tail somewhere in the house?"

"Maybe next time, or I'm sure that Emma can provide one, can't you dear?"

"Of course," Andrea replied. "I'd be delighted to do so. But please, tell me some more about pony play."

"Well, Artemis is the one for that. She' always taking Hipperia, her maid, out for a ride. That's why her club name is Hipperia, the Greek goddess of horses and, of course, Artemis was the goddess of the hunt."

"So you hunt?" Andrea asked Artemis.

"Oh yes. Even after that blasted government ban we still ride out whenever possible. I ride with the New Forest Hounds and Hipperia and I are most keen."

"And pony girls?"

"Well, what with having the stables and all, it would be a shame if we didn't, wouldn't it? There are any number of activities possible but dressage and show jumping are my favourite. As with puppy girls it's all in the training. Good ponies get treats, naughty ponies get punished. Would you be interested?"

"It certainly sounds like a lot of fun. Of course, there's not much chance of pony girl play in the confines of a London flat but once we get ourselves settled, that's another matter," Andrea replied.

By this time the dessert course was being served. Popsy had taken Tamsin's place at the sideboard and was now pouring a Monbazillac to go with the pannacotta and apricot confection that Hipperia had provided. Tamsin, still on her knees next to Calliope, got a couple of spoonfuls.

At last the meal was over and, fully sated, the Dommes sat back while Popsy and Calliope started clearing away the dishes.

"Shall we have our coffee in the lounge, ladies?" Lady Mary asked and, with that, Lady Mary, Artemis and Andrea stood up.

"I'll follow on in a minute," Euthenia said. "I'm having far too much fun with this new puppy."

"Don't be long," Lady Mary chided. 

Once the others had gone Euthenia turned in her chair to face Tamsin.

"And did my new little puppy like being fed at table," she asked.

Tamsin, remembering how this had pleased last time, barked in response.

"And would puppy like to say thank you?"

Tamsin barked again although her heart sunk as she guessed what was coming next.

Euthenia pulled aside her peplos to reveal that, underneath, she was wearing a leather bustier arrangement and leather panties fastened by buckles at the hips. The buckles meant that it was easy to unfasten them and take them off without having to stand up. She shifted forward so that she was sitting on the edge of the chair and moved her thighs wide apart. This confirmed Tamsin's suspicions and she couldn't help but glance at Calliope who was busy clearing the table. 

"Don't you worry about Calliope, little puppy," Euthenia said, looking at her sub. "Different rules apply on club nights and no one gets jealous, do they?"

"No, Mistress," Calliope replied with a smile.

While this was obviously not the first time Tamsin had gone down on another woman, it was the first time she had done so outside of a loving relationship. This was a woman she had only just met and to perform such an intimate act seemed cold, almost mechanical. Still, she could hardly refuse and it was part and parcel of the other indignities she had been put through. With the mere foot or so of chain between her wrists her hands were not going to be much help so she leant forward and, reaching out with her tongue, eased apart Euthenia's nether lips. The signs of Euthenia's arousal were more than clear. The earthy taste of Euthenia's copious juices was evidence enough and the deep sigh as Tamsin found and caressed the swollen nubbin of her clitoris backed this up. 

While Tamsin worked away between her thighs, Euthenia undid the clasp at her shoulder so as to open the top of her peplos. Then she eased her breasts out of the top of her corset, called Calliope over and ordered her to kiss her nipples. To Tamsin this just seemed to rub her face in how she was just a means by which Euthenia achieved orgasm. There was no emotional connection at all. She was simply being used and this was, in its way, as hurtful as the tawsing. For her this act ought to have been an act of love, of sharing, of giving, but it was harsh, mechanical, soulless. However it seemed to be what Euthenia wanted as it didn't take long before her moans became louder, her breathing shallower and, with a groan that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside he, she climaxed. 

For a long, long moment the three women stayed in position waiting while Euthenia got her breath back.

"Thank you, Calliope," Euthenia said at last. "You can carry on with your duties. And you," she looked down at where Tamsin was still knelt between her thighs, "can come with me into the lounge but first..." 

Euthenia took the fine linen napkin that lay on her side plate and used it to mop up between her thighs and around Tamsin's face. Tamsin felt reminiscent of having her face cleaned by her mother and half expected to be ordered to spit. Then, rather to Tamsin's disappointment, Euthenia refitted the gag. 

"You ought to have a leash, you know, but then you ought to have a tail and not be wearing that silly maid's outfit. Still, maybe next time. Now follow me, there's a good puppy," and, with that, Euthenia stood up, took a moment to refasten her panties, and, with Tamsin crawling along behind, headed off towards the lounge.

"Ah, there you are," Lady Mary said as they entered. "We've been wondering when you would join us. Do I gather that Emma's maid gave a good account of herself?"

"Very much so," Euthenia replied. "Very pleasing, very pleasing indeed. Emma, my dear, I must implore you to bring her tail next time."

"Yes, indeed, maybe we could have a puppy show. A sort of puppy girl Crufts, if you will," enthused Lady Mary.

"What, with an obstacle course like they do for police dogs?" Artemis added.

"We'll have to think about it but I'm sure we can organise something," Lady Mary put in. "Now then, Euthenia, you and Artemis have had your fun. Send that naughty little maid my way."

Euthenia nudged Tamsin with her leg and, needing no further instruction, she crawled across the floor until she was kneeling in front of Lady Mary.

"Stand up. Show me that pretty little bottom of yours," Lady Mary ordered.

Quelling her internal sigh, Tamsin stood up and turned so that her backside was facing Lady Mary who sat up, reached out, grabbed the hem of her skirt and used it to tug her backwards until she was standing right next to Lady Mary's armchair. With an awful inevitability Tamsin knew what was coming next and, just as expected, Lady Mary's hand started to fondle her buttocks, her fingers tracing the ridged lines of wheals that were still so sore to the touch.

Again Tamsin felt this air of unreality. There they were, four women casually sitting in their fetish clothing all the while chatting gaily about problems with hunt saboteurs whilst being served coffee by a woman wearing little more than a black leather waspie, high heels and a matching collar. And, if that was not bizarre enough, all the while a woman who she barely knew was busy exploring between her thighs, poking, probing, pinching and teasing wherever her fancy took her. 

"And what about you, Emma, dear?" Lady Mary asked when a suitable break came in the conversation. "You've been kind enough to lend your puppy to Euthenia for a while. Can I tempt you to a loan of Popsy. I'm sure she would be most willing to oblige in any way that takes your fancy."

"That's most kind of you," Andrea replied. Although it was subtle, Tamsin could see the flicker of uncertainty that crossed Andrea's face and it amused her to see Andrea getting perturbed now that she was going to have to get fully involved. Even for self-assured Andrea, even though she was playing at being Domme, sex with strangers was disconcerting. 

"Of course, if you'd prefer to wait for Calliope or Hipperia then, when they arrive, maybe a little paddling might help them remember not to take so long over their chores next time."

"No, no, Popsy is fine but I'm not sure... I not sure if I...," Andrea prevaricated.

"Of course you are," Lady Mary was having none of this. "Popsy, dear, take Miss Emma to the drawing room and assist her in any way that pleases, will you?"

Popsy, smiling broadly, went over to Andrea, curtseyed in front of her and said, "Your pleasure is my pleasure. If you'd be so kind as to come this way, Miss." 

Andrea got up out of her chair and followed Popsy out of the room. 

"You, girl, my drink is empty," Lady Mary said to Tamsin as soon as the door was closed. Tamsin went over to the drinks cabinet and, seeing that the other Dommes were ready for a refill as well, went round with the coffee jug and the brandy.

Shortly after this Calliope and Hipperia returned. Evidently they had completed their kitchen chores and, seeing Tamsin stood by the drinks cabinet they went over and knelt on the floor next to their respective Dommes. 

And then... and again then nothing. Again there was this same mix of normality and the bizarre. Apart from the rather fetishistic aspect of the clothing, or lack of it, and the way that the two subs were knelt on the floor, it could have been any post dinner party chat amongst a group of women all of whom were close friends. Once Tamsin had topped up the coffees and brandies, Lady Mary motioned that she should take Popsy's place on the floor in front of her. So it was that, when a rather flushed Andrea returned with Popsy, as Andrea sat down so Popsy took what, by rights should have been Tamsin's place.

"I do hope Popsy was completely satisfactory," Lady Mary said.

"Eminently so," Andrea replied. "She's obviously been well trained."

"Excellent! Now, if you'll excuse me for a few moments," Lady Mary got up out of her chair, looked down at Tamsin and said curtly, "follow me. No, I didn't tell you to stand up. Stay on your hands and knees."

"You'll need these," Andrea said holding out the keys to Tamsin's various locks. "I think you'll find that this one is the gag."

"Thank you, my dear, so kind." Lady Mary led Tamsin out of the lounge, across the hallway and into a smaller but still sumptuously furnished room. Prominently featured was a chase longue with a pink silk covering. Next to it, obviously left there for exactly this purpose, was a pile of towels. Lady Mary took the top one and laid it out on the chaise longue before sitting down. Once again the peplos came into its own. Lady Mary just pulled back the material and Tamsin could see that, although she was wearing some sort of corset, she was naked from the waist down. Tamsin didn't need to be told what to do. Still on her knees she shuffled across and held up her head so that Lady Mary could unlock and remove the gag.

However, rather than doing that, Lady Mary just reached forward and tweaked Tamsin's nose.

"I was a bit cross with Artemis," she said. "I wanted so much to be the one who smacked that pretty little bottie of yours but she had to get in first. I wouldn't have used a tawse, either. A good old fashioned over the knee with a hairbrush is what you need, isn't it?" Still holding the tip of Tamsin's nose she gave it a little wiggle.

Tamsin couldn't answer because of the gag but she guessed the question was rhetorical anyway. 

"Well, we'll have to save that for next time," Lady Mary said with a sigh. "And we never did get round to fitting you with a tail. Still, that's another treat I'll have to look forward to. Now, let's get that gag undone and you can show me just how well Emma has trained you."

For the second time that evening the gag was removed from Tamsin's mouth and, for the second time that evening, she found herself performing cunnilingus on a virtual stranger. As with Euthenia, there was this sex without love, indeed, almost without emotion. Tamsin was being tried and tested as one might try and test a vibrator or any other sex toy and her wants and wishes were as relevant as a vibrator's. Once again it was immediately obvious that Lady Mary was already fully aroused but, whereas Euthenia had been relatively quiet Lady Mary didn't hold back at all.

"Yes, yes, just there, like that, harder, harder girl, harder," she urged. "God I want to smack you so hard, I want to smack you 'till every inch of that pretty little bottom is glowing red. That's what you need, isn't it? You're just a naughty little girl who needs her bottie smacked, aren't you, aren't you?"

Tamsin tried her best to match these exhortations. However much she was repulsed by this appalling women, her job was to worm her way into this world and, if she were to be a good sex toy, if she were to be pleasing to Lady Mary, she had to act as if she were a naughty little girl who needed her bottie smacked, and, furthermore, was eager to serve this 'Mistress'. Harder and harder she flicked her tongue across the inflamed button of Lady Mary's clitoris. Her jaw ached and she was having trouble breathing but she didn't dare ease back in any way. She could feel the tension mounting. Lady Mary's juices were flowing freely, the muscles of her thighs tensed, lifting her up off the chaise longue as she thrust her groin forward.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yessss!!Oh god, oh god, don't you dare stop, don't stop. If you stop I'll smack you so hard I'll.... Ahhh! Ahhh!! Yes!!!" Lady Mary crashed into her orgasm and Tamsin had to swallow time and time again as the juices flowed from her. 




Royal Flush Ch. 02



And then the room was eerily silent. Both Lady Mary and Tamsin took time to get their breath back but there was nothing to say, no words of endearment, no contact beyond the purely physical.

"Yes, very good, very good indeed. Emma has trained you quite proficiently," Lady Mary said at last, as much to fill the silence as anything else. She grabbed another towel from the pile and wiped herself off before sitting up and using the same towel to wipe down Tamsin's face. She stood up and the peplos fell back into place. She looked down at Tamsin and a big smile lit up her face. 

"Oh I'm so looking forward to all the fun we're going to have together. I can't wait to see you with a tail," she gushed. "Now let's get you back to Emma. She'll be thinking I've run off with you."

For one brief moment Tamsin thought she'd finally got rid of the gag but, before returning to the lounge, Lady Mary bent down and, with a cheerful 'open wide',she refitted the gag and Tamsin was muted again.

And then it was all but over. It was only minutes after they rejoined the others that Artemis suggested that the evening was getting late and it was time for Popsy to run Emma and her maid back to town. Popsy, stood up, curtseyed, and headed for the door. Five minutes later, Lady Mary glanced out of the window.

"Emma dear, it seems that your carriage awaits," she said. "It's been such fun having you. You really must come again soon and, next time, maybe you'll bring your little puppy." 

"Oh, yes please," Euthenia added. "I meant what I said about the puppy show, we must arrange to have one. That would be so much fun."

And, with that, Lady Mary shepherded them towards the front door. Waiting outside was Lady Mary's Bentley with Popsy, now back in her chauffeur uniform, standing beside it holding the door open. Andrea and Tamsin were slightly hustled down the front steps while Euthenia and Artemis stood at the front door waving them off. Tamsin felt that it was quite clear that, for the others, the evening was far from over and, from then on, Emma and her maid would be the main topic of conversation.

It was quite late by the time the Bentley drew up outside the Mayfair flat and, when they finally closed the door behind them, Andrea and Tamsin went through to the lounge and flopped, rather gingerly in Tamsin's case, down onto the sofa.

"Ake ee uhuh ung ough," Tamsin managed through the gag. Andrea could tell that this meant 'take this bloody thing off' even without the hand gestures that Tamsin was making. Slightly reluctantly, as she was so exhausted, Andrea got back up off the sofa and worked at the various padlocks that fastened Tamsin's costume.

"Well, you were belle of the ball," she commented as she worked on the cuffs.

"Belle of the fucking ball! It makes my flesh creep to think of those hags and what they put me through. And guess, what, we'd hardly been there five minutes and I'm getting my arse whipped. Did you see what that bitch did to me?" Tamsin retorted. "It still fucking hurts."

"It was a bit much but it did help. Euthenia, in particular, is completely smitten and gagging for us to participate in a puppy show."

"Ha! That's easy for you to say. You're not the one who has to scamper around on her hands and knees pretending to be a fucking dog. And then there's all that bollocks about the tail. Judging by the way Lady Mary was sticking her fingers up my arse when she was talking about it I know exactly where the tail will end up going."

"Yeah but they loved you," Andrea said soothingly. "You were the hit of the evening."

"I'll say I bloody was. One beat the arse off me and I had to eat out the other two. I was passed from pillar to post like some sort of party favour. You, on the other hand, were on the receiving end. How was Popsy, by the way?"

"She was... oh, never mind how she was. I know this is hell for you but look how much we've been accepted. We've made it. We're in. They want us to go again. Maybe next time we'll get to meet Princess Charlotte."

"Let's hope so. I'm not sure how many of these I can take. Look, my arse hurts, my feet hurt and it's far too late to be trekking back to Croydon at this time of night. I'm going to take a long hot shower and then bed down here for the night. After all, we've got washing stuff and a change of clothing all ready and available."

"That's an idea. It's a bit late to be getting back to Barnet as well."

"But there's only one bed," Tamsin objected.

"So? It's enormous. There's plenty of room for both of us. Anyway, if you don't like it you can always bed down on the sofa."

"And why should I get the sofa?"

"Because you're the fuss pot who all pissy about sharing a bed. For fuck's sake, after what we've just been through it's a bit late to start getting all coy on me and if you're worried I'm going to make some kind of pass at you just because we're in bed together, well, get real, girl."

Feeling that, once again, she had got the rough end of the deal Tamsin reluctantly agreed and, half an hour later, having finished their ablutions, they were in bed together, each lying as far from the other as possible. They turned out the lights and the room went dark. The thick curtains blocked out all but the faintest glimmers of light and there were precious few street sounds in this quiet corner of Mayfair.

"Tamsin," Andrea called out softly.

"Yes."

"A couple of times... I mean... well... it looked like you were getting off on it. Were you? Do you like that kinky stuff?"

"I was playing a part, for god's sake. How could I possibly like.... I was playing along and making it as convincing as I could. If I fooled you as well then that shows how good I was at it. Now, please, shut up and go to sleep."

As she lay there in the dark, Tamsin reached down behind her and gently traced the wheals on her buttocks with her finger tips. She wished, she really wished, that Andrea was someone she could share with, someone she could talk to. It was now completely clear exactly what this job was going to entail. She was not, repeat not, looking forward to the next time. The idea of scampering around buck naked with some sort of tail stuffed up her backside and all the while being used as a fuck toy by all and sundry... ugh. It made her shudder. The fact that she had no one to come home to, no one to cuddle, no one to make it all better, well, that just made it worse.



Royal Flush Ch. 03



****** Please Read This First *******

I know, I know, I usually don't bother with the disclaimer bits either. Blah, blah, blah, over 18, blah, blah, blah, don't read if easily offended, blah, blah, blah. But, just this once, please bear with me and read this one.

Firstly, this is chapter three of ten and the story will only make sense if you read it from the start. If you haven't already done so then I sincerely urge you stop and go to chapter one. It will be better that way, honest.

Secondly, this is a work of fiction and all the characters are completely fictional. In particular, one of the main characters is Princess Charlotte who is, according to chapter one, "about tenth in line for the throne". Now, in real life, there can only be one person who holds that position but this story is not real life and it's definitely not about her. 

Princess Charlotte is not a real person and any resemblance is purely coincidental. Before I get carted off to live out what is left of the rest of my life in the Tower Of London, I want to stress that this story is set in a parallel universe where Britain has a very different Royal family with a very different line of succession.

Thirdly, briefly but importantly, my heartfelt thanks to all those who have helped so much. Especial mention must go to, in no particular order, Wizard98, OneWhoAdores, 'V' and MartiniMan for help and advice.

Fourthly, once again, I fall neatly between the BDSM and Lesbian Love categories. This story centres on a BDSM club and much of the action has a BDSM theme. However, it's a bit short on the whips and chains to really be a BDSM story. On the other hand those looking for a lesbian themed story may well end up complaining, as a critic once did, that my stories always seem to feature a D/s relationship. This one is no exception; its a lesbian love story with BDSM overtones. If this is not what you're looking for stop reading now. That's kinder than voting one star because it wasn't what you were after.

Lastly, this is a story of deception and subterfuge. Most of the characters have at least two names, many three or even four. To help the reader keep track each chapter will start with a dramatis personae. The list for this chapter is:-

*Andrea, a journalist, masquerading as Emma Pearson from Paarl.
*Tamsin, another journalist, masquerading as Emma Pearson's sub, Susan Ward.
*Angus, Editor of the Daily Sleaze, a London based tabloid newspaper.

Enjoy

******

"It looks like you had plenty of fun and games with Lady Mary last night," Angus said as he flicked through the report Andrea and Tamsin had put together. "At least you've made some progress. So, everyone wears a mask and they all use these Greek names. And are you absolutely sure none of them was the princess?"

"Mask or no mask, I'm sure we're both genned up enough to recognise her when we meet her," Andrea replied. "As to who was there, we're busy trawling through the library cross referencing Debretts with the year books of schools like Cheltenham where Lady Mary went. It looks like we might have identified Artemis but it's hard to be sure. These people value their privacy and it's not easy to break in."

"And that's exactly why I've sent you in undercover. Have you hacked Lady Mary's phone yet?" Angus said with some impatience.

"Yes, but she's not entirely stupid. The phone number we've got is not her normal mobile. She must have got one especially for us."

"And what about cameras? What have you done about that? Written reports aren't enough. We must have photos."

"I've been down to nuts and bolts and they've supplied me with a number of options. They've even built a camera into the handle of a riding crop. Taking pictures shouldn't present too many problems."

"What about you, Tamsin," Angus asked. "You've been pretty quiet through all this. Andrea seems to be coming up with all the ideas. What's your contribution to all this?"

"I... I...," Tamsin spluttered, "My contribution! I'm the one who still can't sit down comfortably! My contribution is to be the fall guy in all this. My contribution is to be physically and sexually assaulted for the amusement and gratification of a bunch of witches! Furthermore, thanks to my contribution we're going to be invited to join a puppy show with yours truly as the main exhibit."

"OK, OK, keep your hair on. I thought you might enjoy a bit of kinky sex, what with being a lezzie and all," Angus said airily.

"And what the fuck has that got to do with it?" Tamsin snapped back.

"Well, alternative lifestyle and all that...."

Using all of her self control Tamsin bit back the rising gall within her. Angus was being so unfair on so many levels. Above all the suggestion that being lesbian meant that she would welcome kinky sex was preposterous in the extreme. However, she had pushed her luck far enough. It didn't do to argue with Angus, however much you felt you were in the right.

"So, a puppy show," Angus continued reading from their report. "That's with young Tamsin here dressed up as dog, is it?" 

"Make that undressed as a dog and you've just about got it," Tamsin replied.

"Sounds good, very kinky," Angus continued, ignoring Tamsin. "When is it going to happen?" 

"I phoned Lady Mary this morning to thank her for the meal and she was most effusive and very keen that we should all meet up again sometime soon. This puppy play thing seems to have caught their imagination and she was banging on about having a show sometime soon," Andrea answered for them both. "However she didn't commit herself as to when so, once again, we're waiting on her to get back to me. Actually this is a good thing. We're not set up for puppy play. I made us out to be keen aficionados whereas neither of us have ever done anything like it. We've got to look like we know what we're doing so we need to buy a few more bits and pieces and have a practice session or two. We can go back to the same shop as last time. They had all the relevant kit."

"At all the relevant prices," Angus said sourly.

"Yeah, this stuff doesn't come cheap but if we're supposed to be keen exponents of this puppy play then we have to have all the gear. What's more Lady Mary hinted strongly that, next time, we'd be expected, like the others, to turn up in masks."

"Yeah, those masks are going to be a problem. Still, once the orgy starts, you shoot some nice piccies and I'll get the Photoshop boys to make sure they look like they need to."

"It's not quite that straightforward," Andrea commented. "I mean, if it's anything like last night then it's not exactly an orgy. Oh, I'm sure there will be plenty of spanking and such like but, when it comes down to the nitty gritty, the actual sex, that always seemed to happen in private."

"Yeah, that's the impression I got," Tamsin confirmed. "When Lady Mary wanted to have her turn with me there was nothing to stop her doing it right there in front of everyone but she took me through to the lounge which had obviously been prepared for exactly that purpose. The pile of towels next to the chaise longue weren't there by accident; it was all laid out ready. It was the same in the dining room with Euthenia. It was all pretty innocent until the other Dommes left. Mind you, she didn't seem to mind Calliope being there. It's as if we 'slaves' don't count as people. My guess is that it will be the same thing for the puppy show. Lots of communal action while the 'puppies' are put through their paces and then privacy when it comes to the hot stuff."

"Well, however it works, don't forget that I want photos and lots of them. Without photos the story is just gossip and we'll get sued to kingdom come. With photos we'll sell papers like there's no tomorrow. OK then, off you go."

Andrea and Tamsin got to their feet and headed for the door of Angus's office. 

"Just one thing," Angus said almost too casually just as they reached the door. "You're off now to buy this puppy girl gear and then off to the flat to practice. Have I got that right?"

"That's it," Andrea replied.

"I might pop down this afternoon and have a butcher's, check up on how you're getting on; see how my money is being spent."

"No way!" the two women chorused. "No way at all."

"Just checking," Angus said with a chuckle. "A man can dream, can't he?"

The shop, just as Andrea had remembered, was fully equipped with animal role play accessories and, as Angus had commented, the prices were on the steep side. Almost as soon as they entered they were spotted by the assistant that had served them last time and, remembering how much they had spent, she hurried on over.

"Hello! How did you get on with the maid's outfit?" she asked. "I'm sure you had lots of fun. Now, how can I help you today?"

"We're looking to get into puppy play," Andrea said as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "We're not sure where to start."

With the pound signs lighting up her eyes the assistant took them over to the area set aside for animal role play and, in particular, directed them towards the masks. As she explained, the choice of mask was fundamental. It set the tone and pretty much determined the rest of the accessories. She then left them to it, although she was always hovering in the background, ready to step in if need be. 

The selection on offer could be split down into two basic flavours. On the one hand there were those that were effectively gimp masks with added protrusions resembling ears. On the other hand there were those which tried for some semblance of reality, those that might, at a pinch, be worn to a fancy dress party. After some discussion they went for the realistic end of things. As Tamsin pointed out, in a rather forceful whisper, whilst the gimp masks were kinkier, the realistic type went with the 'playful puppy' persona that Euthenia seemed to expect. Once they had selected a mask choosing a matching collar, leash and bone shaped name tag to go with it was easy. However, Tamsin was somewhat disconcerted when Andrea picked out some 'paws'. These were tightly fitting leather pouches that fitted over her hands and fastened around her wrists. It was easy to see that her hands would only fit once they had been balled into fists and, when the paws were on, her hands would be useless. Last, and by no means least, there was the tail. Here the range was as wide as the range of masks and, although most were simple and straightforward, there were many that weren't. The assistant, sensing their difficulties came back over and asked if they needed help.

"I'm not sure what to do about a tail," Andrea explained. "We seem to be spoilt for choice."

"Tell me, what sort of tail are you looking for?" The assistant looked at their selection so far. "The longer, furry tails are normally used with the sort of mask you have chosen."

"Oh, yes, long and furry," Andrea agreed.

"Well, what about this tail," the assistant indicated one hanging on the wall behind the display. This one is nice and foxy and a pretty good match for the mask. Let me get it down for you so you can have a good feel.

She fetched it down and laid it across Andrea's hands allowing her to stroke it, appreciating the luxurious fur.

"It does feel gorgeous but I don't quite understand how it fits? These others have their own butt plug. How does this one work?" Andrea asked.

"If we remove the blanking plate here," the assistant unscrewed the end of the tail, "you can see that it's got a screw hole which, using this gizmo here, allows it to be attached to any one of this range of butt plugs." The saleswoman indicated a display of plugs of various shapes and sizes. "Exactly which one you choose depends on now experienced your puppy is and how intense you want to make the experience. We have these smaller ones which are for beginners right the way up to these monsters. Unfortunately, for reasons of hygiene, I can't let you try them out and, as they are strictly non refundable, I'd suggest erring on the side of caution. Having said that, of course, if you go for the smaller ones the experience is lessened and you don't want puppy to be able to push out her tail unaided."

Tamsin looked in horror at the range of butt plugs. She had never tried anal play; she had never felt that way inclined, and the range on offer seemed completely impractical. Even the smaller ones seemed far too fat to fit inside a normal human being.

"Of course, those of our customers who prefer the realistic look find that having the tail directly attached to the plug somewhat spoils the effect. After all, it's not where a real tail is located. They prefer to use something like this," the sales assistant fetched down off the display a leather harness which, at first glance, appeared to be just a jumble of straps. She laid it out on the counter and it began to make sense. "As you can see, this strap acts as a belt, these two come down either side at the front and this one runs up the crease between the buttocks. The reason for all the holes is so that you can fit a butt plug in one of these," she indicated the holes at the lower end of the strapping, "so as to anchor the harness and ensure that puppy knows she is wearing it. Meanwhile the tail can be attached to one of these holes," she indicated the holes nearer to the belt part of the harness, "so that it appears to project from the base of the spine. This means that the tail is far more naturally positioned and puppy looks so much more realistic. The two straps at the front ensure that puppy remains fully accessible and free to do her business when you take her for walkies. The strapping also ensures that the plug stays firmly in place and even the naughtiest of puppies can't shift it however hard she tries. What's more, with the tail removed, the harness can be worn on its own under street clothes. How does that sound?"

"I think we've just found our tail," Andrea replied. "However, I'm still not sure which size plug to choose." Andrea looked through the range of plugs that went with the harness. "Maybe it would be best if we were to take a range of sizes."

"Very wise," the sales assistant gushed sufficiently to make Tamsin assume she was on some sort of commission. "Would you prefer stainless steel or silicone? Of course the stainless steel ones are more expensive but, if it's quality you're after then you can't beat it. We have these here..."

Tamsin watched on bemused as the sales assistant described the pros and cons of the various shapes and sizes. Apparently the screw fitting at the base of the butt plug allowed for a number of different attachments: a tail, various coloured 'jewels', or a plain blanking screw which could also be used to attach the plug to the harness. The assistant also discussed the differences between the various shapes. There were those that looked like an egg on a stick, those that looked like a small penis or possibly a finger and those that looked like Christmas trees. Apparently the Christmas tree shape was the best suited for holding tails. Tamsin was slightly put out by the way that the saleswoman addressed herself entirely to Andrea. It was quite clear that, as far as she was concerned, puppy Tamsin's thoughts and wishes were immaterial. 

"Hmm... that's enough to get you started," the assistant commented as she looked through the collection they had chosen. "However, if you'll take my advice, you'll give puppy some rear paws." She pointed at what were effectively knee pads with the outlines of 'paws' etched onto the leather where the knee would meet the ground. If you're considering outside play then I think you'll find them essential and, even indoors, they can save a lot or wear and tear."

These too were added to the shopping basket. 

"And last but not least," the assistant added, "we do a free engraving service. What would you like on the name tag?"

"Oh, the name tag...," Andrea hadn't thought that one through. "Snookums, put Snookums, if you would be so kind."

"Snookums. What a lovely name. I'll just go over to the counter and get that organised. Do feel free to continue browsing in the meanwhile."

"Snookums! What the fuck is that all about?" Tamsin asked as soon as the assistant had left.

"It was the name of my puppy when I was young," Andrea replied. "It was all I could think of on the spur of the moment."

"Oh, well, I suppose it could be worse."

While the assistant was getting the name tag engraved they decided that, while they were there, they should purchase the masks that Lady Mary had asked them to wear. As with Euthenia and Calliope and Artemis and Hipperia they wanted a matching pair and, after some discussion, they ended up choosing a set in leather stained dark purple. They took these over to the cash desk where the sales assistant was waiting to run it all through the till. Andrea paid the eye watering total and carefully kept the receipt. The sales assistant then wrapped it all up, threw in a tube of lube and a doggie bone gag as free gifts, and passed the two heavy shopping bags to Tamsin who tried to pass one of them on to Andrea but, somehow she didn't seem to notice.

"And, if there's anything else you need, just hurry back and see us," the sales assistant gushed.

Tamsin was exhausted by the time they returned to the flat. The tube across town had been packed with tourists and, when they changed at Piccadilly, they had had to push their way through throngs of people, none of whom seemed to have a clue about where they were going. Even when they emerged at Marble Arch it was still a fair trek to the Grosvenor Square mews where the flat was located. 

The bags of shopping seemed to Tamsin to be getting heavier and heavier. When they had emerged from the underground Tamsin had suggested to Andrea that she should carry one of them but Andrea had, once again, become selectively deaf and had marched on ahead leaving Tamsin trailing in her wake. By the time they reached the front door of the flat Tamsin was looking forward to nothing more than putting her feet up with a nice cup of tea. None of that fancy Earl Grey stuff either; she needed a nice strong cup of proper tea, builder's tea. She dumped the bags on the kitchen table, filled the kettle and organised two mugs, not cups, of PG Tips.

"This stuff is too new," Andrea commented as she pulled the bits and pieces out of the bags and unwrapped them.

"What do you mean?" Tamsin asked putting the mugs of tea down on the table and picking up the puppy mask.

"We're supposed to be keen exponents of puppy play, yeah? So why, then, is all our gear brand new and unused. That's going to look a bit suspicious."

"Because... because... because all our old stuff is still in storage in Southampton. That's why it's all new. We're so keen on puppy play that we couldn't even wait for our stuff to be unpacked but had to buy new. How long are we supposed to have been in the UK – a couple of months? Certainly not much more than that. Even if we went out shopping the moment we landed it wouldn't have had that much use." Tamsin suggested.

"Yeah, that works but, even so, it mustn't seem completely unused. I mean we have to remove the price tags at the very least," Andrea objected.

"You're just looking for excuses to start shoving things up my arse. You can't wait, can you? We've barely got back from the shops and already it's 'get your kit off and spread 'em'."

Andrea was just about to respond in her typical sarcastic manner when she realised just how worked up Tamsin had got. And, to be fair, Tamsin did have a point. 

"Look, I know it's unfair," Andrea said calmly, "and yes, I'm not the one having butt plugs stuffed up my jacksie but..."

"There's always a 'but', my butt," Tamsin snapped. "The only butt I'm concerned about here is the one that joins my body to my legs. Last time out it got severely whipped and now you want to shove things up it. Enough, I've had enough!"




Royal Flush Ch. 03



For a long, long moment they just stared at each other. Then Andrea grinned and that made Tamsin laugh and, suddenly, they both had a fit of the giggles. After a while they calmed down, looked at each other and grinned again.

"You're right, of course," Tamsin said with a sigh. "I... we do need to practice. If for no reason other than I've never done anal and I really don't want the first time to be in front of Lady Mary and her chums. I'm not in a particular rush for there to be a first time and, trust me, if I was, then you wouldn't be my first choice of partner but, if that's the way it has to be, then here in the flat is as good a place as any. But let's take it a little bit easy. Let's start with the mask."

Tamsin picked the mask up off the table, held it to her head and, with Andrea's help, started to fasten the straps which held it on. It took quite a while to get it adjusted so that the nose and eye holes lined up properly. As they worked away Tamsin began to appreciate why the mask had been so expensive. The faux fur both looked and felt quite realistic and, in as much as it resembled any breed at all, it looked a bit like a beagle except that the 'ears' were pointed, not floppy. It was pretty flexible and, once they got it fully adjusted, it fitted quite snugly. Her face was entirely covered apart from the area around her mouth and chin and a small bit at the back where the straps adjusted. Tamsin went over to the mirror above the fireplace and was slightly shocked at what looked back at her. Her head was completely covered, obscuring her face and it was as if it wasn't her at all. It brought to mind the cover of an old Genesis album that her dad had owned. As a young girl she had been fascinated by the picture of the woman with the fox head; now this was exactly what she had become. The person, the thing, that stared out of the eye holes was no longer a woman, it was no longer her, she had become a cipher, her wants, her needs, her emotions hidden along with the rest of her behind this mask. The effect was pretty powerful and Tamsin just stared and stared.

"Do you like what you see?" Andrea asked after a while. "You certainly seem to."

"It's...," Tamsin pulled herself back to the here and now, reached up and felt her face. The faux fur on her cheeks felt strange to the touch.

"It actually suits you, do you know that?" Andrea continued. "Is it comfortable? Is it going to cause problems if you have to wear it for long periods?"

"It's pretty comfortable. Come on, let's try the collar." Tamsin amazed them both by her apparent eagerness.

"Ooh, you're very keen all of a sudden. What's brought this about?" Andrea joked.

"I just... I just want to see the full effect," Tamsin bluffed. There was no way she could explain to Andrea how, having put on the mask, she now had this urge to disappear into the costume, to lose herself in the role. 

Andrea picked up the collar from the table and brought it over. There was nothing that special about it. They could have picked up something similar in any pet store and, had they done so, they would have paid far less for it. In keeping with the mask it was in brown leather and with an unpretentious chromed buckle and 'D' ring for the leash. However, the bone shaped name tag was quite large and dangled down in front. Tamsin just wished she had a better puppy name than Snookums. With a sigh she fastened the buckle while Andrea fetched the leash and attached it to the 'D' ring.

Andrea went to the pile of bits on the table and picked out the 'front paws'. The soft leather pouch which covered the hands was quite small and Tamsin had to ball her hands up into fists so as to get them on. As Andrea fastened the wrist straps Tamsin could feel her independence slipping away. Her hands, now her paws, in keeping with the puppy look, would no longer be able to grasp or hold anything and she had suddenly become a lot more dependent on her..., her what? Her owner? Her trainer? Her Mistress?

Following the front paws were the rear paws which were attached by Velcro straps just above and just below the knee. In the fullness of time Tamsin was going to have to get naked but, realising that she shouldn't push too fast, for the moment Andrea just fitted them over Tamsin's jeans.

"Walkies," Andrea laughed and, taking the end of the leash, gave it a little tug. Tamsin gave her an exasperated look but she still got down on her hands and knees. The paws changed quite a bit about how she crawled. With her hands scrunched up inside the front paws she was having to rest her weight on her balled fists and this added to the illusion and made her feel more animal. The knee pads protected her knees but did nothing for her feet. Tamsin practised crawling with her feet off the ground and found this quite easy as long as she didn't have to go too far. Andrea, still holding the leash, led Tamsin through to the bedroom and, as soon as she entered, she saw, reflected back from the mirrored doors of the built in wardrobes, this strange hybrid, this puppy girl in human clothes.

She went over to the mirrors and stared at herself just as she had done in the lounge. She twisted and turned, trying to see how it all went together. Now that she was down on her hands and knees she was even closer to an animal, a puppy girl. Her clothes seemed wrong and out of place and she wanted to shed them, to complete the transformation, but she wasn't ready to admit that to Andrea, not yet.

"That just leaves the tail," Andrea said from behind her. "Are you ready for that?"

"Go on then if you must," Tamsin replied. She stared into the mirror and tried to imagine herself with a tail and no clothes. "Take these mittens off me and I'll try the smallest plug, OK?"

"I was thinking...," Andrea started.

"What were you thinking?"

"Part of the learning process, part of what we're practising, is me putting the plug in. If we kept you in costume and I fitted the harness...."

If she hadn't been on her hands and knees, wearing the mask, the paws, the collar and the leash, Tamsin would never have countenanced the thought but, as she was already, in her mind, playing with the concept that she was a puppy girl who had paws, not hands, and who had lost her independence and had to have things done for her - this somehow fitted. 

"OK," she agreed, still staring into the mirror.

"Well, come along then," Andrea said and, with the slightest tug on the leash, she led Tamsin back to the kitchen. There was no reason why Tamsin had to stay on her hands and knees, no reason at all except that it felt right. 

Andrea laid out the harness on the kitchen table along with the tail and the smallest butt plug. Meanwhile Tamsin knelt on the floor beside her. The harness wasn't too hard to figure out. The strap that went up between the butt cheeks had a series of holes in it and both the butt plug and the tail had wide flat headed screws which went through these holes fastening them onto the strap. The only question was which holes to choose.

"Turn around," Andrea ordered, "get on your hands and knees and let me get at your backside."

Tamsin did so and Andrea looked down to see the taut denim of Tamsin's jeans stretched tight across her behind. 

"I'm sorry, it's time we got those jeans off," Andrea said. "Stand up and I'll fix it for you."

Both knew this was a massive step. Sure, Andrea had helped Tamsin get into her maid's outfit but that had just been dressing up. Tamsin had not been so helpless and, this time, at the end of it all, was the butt plug. Slightly warily Tamsin stood up and kicked off her shoes. Andrea, still sitting at the kitchen table, bent down and removed the rear 'paws' before turning her attention to Tamsin's jeans. Andrea, with her fingers on Tamsin's belt buckle, looked up to confirm that she really was OK with this.

"Ready?" Andrea asked.

"Don't ask," Tamsin replied. "I mean... I mean this is a lot easier if I don't have too many choices. Don't ask for permission, just do it, please." Tamsin was far from able to explain the jumble of confused emotions within her. 

Andrea looked again at her colleague and nodded before undoing Tamsin's belt and reaching for the button at the front of her jeans. Being as matter of fact as she could be she unzipped the fly and pushed the jeans to the floor. Tamsin stepped out of them and Andrea picked them up and folded them over the back of a chair. Andrea reached out for Tamsin's panties and was just about to ask again if this was OK when she remembered and, without saying a word, pushed them to the floor. Again Tamsin stepped out of them leaving herself dressed in only a tee shirt and ankle socks. Andrea then replaced the rear paws over Tamsin's now naked knees.

"Floor," Andrea ordered and Tamsin got back down on her hands and knees. "Turn," came the next order and Tamsin shuffled round until her backside was facing Andrea.

"God! Look at that bruising!" Andrea exclaimed. She reached down and ran her fingers along the vivid wheals that striped Tamsin's backside.

Tamsin bit back her rising anger. Yes, her backside was still sore from yesterday's less than tender ministrations. And now, here she was, knelt down on the floor waiting to have that god-awful butt plug shoved up her. When was anyone going to acknowledge just how much this story was costing her? Still, as Andrea was always quick to point out, she hadn't many options and, whatever her reservations about the butt plug, she did want to see what she looked like wearing the tail.

Andrea picked the tail harness off the table, got up out of the chair and crouched down behind Tamsin.

"Open wide," she said gently pushing Tamsin's thighs apart. Then she took the strap and laid it along the crease of the buttocks. The butt plug wanted to go in the hole nearest the 'D' ring where the two front straps joined and, lining that hole up against Tamsin's anus, she noted which hole was best for the tail. This done she went over to the cutlery drawer, found a suitable knife and used it to tighten the screws holding the plug and the tail onto the harness. With both the tail and the plug attached to the strap it was time for the moment of truth. She arranged her chair so that she was directly facing Tamsin's backside and then reached into her handbag and took out a pack of surgical rubber gloves and some baby wipes.

"Where did they come from?" Tamsin asked when, having been alerted by the snap of rubber, she turned round and saw the gloves.

"I knew this moment was coming and had them ready, just in case. If you think I'm sticking my finger up your arse without gloves on then you've got another think coming," Andrea replied testily. "Now get back in position."

"What do you mean, stick your finger up my arse?"

"To open you up a bit. You can try going straight to the butt plug if you want but I really don't recommend it, not for an anal virgin like you."

"How do you know so much about it," Tamsin sounded suspicious.

"Never you mind how, just be grateful that I do," Andrea replied. "Now shut up and take what's coming to you."

Tamsin gave Andrea a wry look before getting back into position. Andrea took the lube and squeezed out a generous dollop onto her gloved finger. This she then pushed into the crease of Tamsin's buttocks so that she was pressing against her sphincter. 

"This will open you up and make sure you're good and lubed up before we start with the plug. It's easiest if you don't try and fight it. Just try to relax and squeeze out as if you're taking a dump," she said conversationally. "Now do as you're told like a good little puppy."

Although Andrea had been joking, having Andrea take control was just what Tamsin needed. She rested on her elbows rather than her hands, sticking her backside up further up in the air. Immediately she felt Andrea push her finger harder against her sphincter. There was some resistance, quite a bit of resistance, until Andrea broke through and had her finger in as far as the first knuckle. She wiggled it about a bit before withdrawing it, squeezing on a bit more lube and started again. This time, either because of the lube or because Tamsin was beginning to relax, there was far less resistance and Andrea was able to go quite deep inside, turning her finger back and forth. Once more Andrea withdrew her finger but this time she came back with two fingers, again, twisting back and forth. While this was uncomfortable for Tamsin it was a long way from unbearable and, in some ways, quite exciting. Then Andrea withdrew her fingers, stripped off the gloves and put some new ones on. She picked up the harness along with the attached plug

"Right, puppy dog, open wide, this is it, it's time for you to lose your anal cherry, it's time to fit your tail," she said as she reached down and presented the plug to Tamsin's sphincter. 

Now all the work Andrea had done opening Tamsin up paid dividends. With Andrea gently twisting the plug back and forth and Tamsin pushing back the initial resistance was quickly overcome and soon the first inch or so of the plug was inside. It was much wider than Tamsin had expected and already she was feeling stretched.

"God, it's enormous," Tamsin complained. "It's much bigger than your fingers."

"No it's not," Andrea replied. "This is the smallest plug we have. If you don't stop complaining I'll show you what enormous feels like. I'll take this one out and we'll try one of the bigger ones."

"No, it's OK, it's...", she bit her lower lip for a moment, "please, not too fast, I know it's the small one but it just feels like, oh my god, it's like it's stretching me more than..., it's..." and, with that, the widest part of the plug went past her sphincter which snapped closed around the neck holding it inside. For a while Tamsin just knelt there, getting used to having the plug inside her. She felt so full and the solid metal lump of the plug was quite a weight inside her. It didn't help that the leather strapping of the harness was dangling down, adding its own weight. She was still getting used to the feeling when she felt the cold dampness as Andrea took a baby wipe and cleaned off the excess lube from her backside. With this done, Andrea put the used baby wipe, along with the gloves, in a plastic bag which she sealed and took to the waste bin.

"Stand up," Andrea ordered as she returned from bin. Tamsin got to her feet and the harness straps fell down around her legs, held in place by the plug. Andrea fussed around her, spending a few moments fiddling with the straps, doing up the buckles, getting them adjusted until it all fitted snugly like some sort of bizarre thong. Tamsin could feel the soft fur of the tail dangling against the backs of her thighs. She wiggled her hips and felt the tail wiggle as well.

"OK, let's see what it's like in action. Fetch!" Andrea took the bone gag from where it lay on the table and tossed it across the room, out of the door and into the hallway. "Off you go, fetch little puppy."

Tamsin looked at Andrea, realised what she meant and got down on her hands and knees and, rather gingerly, crawled towards the gag. She picked it up in her teeth, returned to the kitchen and dropped it on Andrea's lap.

"What's it like," Andrea asked. "Remember they were talking of obstacle courses and suchlike. Can you move about all right?"

"Well, apart from having a torpedo rammed up my jacksie, it's not too bad. When I move about the harness tugs the plug about a bit which is uncomfortable but, apart from that, it's wearable. How does the tail look?"

"Pretty good. Let's go back to the bedroom and you can check it out for yourself."

Andrea picked up the leash that still dangled from Tamsin's collar and led her, still scampering on her hands and knees, through to the bedroom. Tamsin crawled about in front of the mirror inspecting herself from all angles. The tail further dehumanised her. Whilst it didn't obscure her in the way that the mask did, it changed her profile. The creature that stared back from the mirror had less and less to do with Tamsin and more and more to do with being a puppy. However, there was still on piece of the jigsaw yet to be done.

"Andrea, can you take my tee shirt off," she asked.

"Sure. Why?"

"I want to see what I look like without it. After all, I can't turn up at Lady Mary's wearing a tee shirt."

"Well, stand up then."

Tamsin stood up and Andrea took the hem off her tee shirt and pulled it over her head. Before getting back down on her hands and knees Tamsin continued to stare at herself in the mirror. It was funny how the mask changed everything. She normally wasn't the biggest fan of her looks, she felt she was too 'ordinary' and her breasts were far too small, but this half girl, half puppy was strangely alluring. She turned to look at herself side on. The tail was nigh on perfect. She had seen photos of the type that went straight up the anus and they didn't look right. This one, however, projected out from the base of her spine before cascading down the back of her legs and looking for all the world as if it was the real thing. She wiggled her backside and watched as it swayed about, gently brushing against her legs.

As for the butt plug, well, after the initial shock, it wasn't too bad. In fact, now that she had got used to it, she almost wished Andrea had picked the next size up. She tensed her glutimus maximus muscles feeling the way it filled her up. The events of the last few days had radically changed quite a bit about her. While she was still naturally shy she had had to become matter of fact about the sex games they were forced to play and now had no problem with being naked around Andrea. After all, it was all part of the job. Neither of them wanted this, neither of them were getting off on it; it was just what they did to get the story. 

What she was not prepared to discuss, what was firmly off limits, were her real feelings. Ever since puberty when she had realised that she was, somehow, different, that she was never going to be obsessed with boys the way the rest of her school friends seemed to be, she had spent so much of her life keeping her feelings and her desires hidden from the outside world. She had been forced to wear a metaphorical mask, a mask that pretended she was happy, a mask that acted as a wall between her and the rest of the world. Even now, having come to terms with her sexuality and even embracing it, she still maintained that wall. Her everyday persona was still a mask she lived behind. 

Now, dressed up as a puppy, this mask had a physical dimension. She should have been appalled at what she was doing, at what was being done to her, but she wasn't because it wasn't her, it was the mask, the role she was playing. But it went much further than that. Her thin, boyish body with breasts so small she could get away without wearing a bra actually seemed to suit the puppy girl look and, rather than wanting to hide her body away for once she wanted to flaunt it. Her shaven pubic mound, which, up to then, she had hated, was also a perfect fit. It was as if all the wild ideas she had had and then repressed could come forward and have their time in the sun. Andrea had asked her if she liked what she saw. Tamsin didn't know the answer to that question but 'puppy girl' did; she loved it. Still Tamsin stood before the mirror, turning back and forth, checking all angles and loving the way her tail flowed behind her.

"Well, if you've quite finished staring at yourself," Andrea joked. "I never had you down as vain before."

"I've never been dressed as a puppy before," Tamsin came straight back. "When you end up wearing a butt plug as part of your job specification you find that normal rules don't apply."

"Talking of jobs, we need to get back to it. I want to see how many more of Lady Mary's friends we can identify and whether any of them match up with those we've already met. Let's get you dressed again and then it's time to get back on line."




Royal Flush Ch. 03



And that brought Tamsin back down to earth. The bubble burst, she wasn't a puppy girl, she was a reporter, prancing around stark naked with a plug up her arse. It was, indeed, time to get out of this costume.

"Start with these bloody paws, will you? They're the worst of it." Tamsin turned to Andrea and held out her hands. Andrea undid the straps and took off the paws. Tamsin was able, once again, to stretch out her fingers which she did, flexing them back and forth. She removed the 'rear paws' so that she could stand up easily before reaching for the collar to take that off as well. This just left the puppy mask and, after fiddling with the buckles at the back she could ease it up and off her head. As soon as she did so she was no longer the puppy but had returned to being simply a naked woman wearing a tail. Suddenly she was awkward and shy again so, putting the mask down on the bed, she reached for her tee shirt and put it on.

Together they trooped back to the kitchen where Tamsin picked up her panties, her jeans and the box of rubber gloves. She took this lot to the bathroom where she locked the door before undoing the harness straps and, ever so carefully, eased the plug out of her backside. Then she sat down on the toilet and cleaned herself off. Although she wiped and wiped her backside still felt slippery and open and she was even tempted to poke a finger inside. However, she couldn't take all day so she stood back up again and thoroughly washed her hands before putting her panties and jeans back on. 

Now that she was dressed she picked up the harness. By twisting the plug she could loosen the screw which held it on and remove it from the strapping and, once it was free, she could wash it thoroughly under the hot tap. The leather strapping wasn't too bad and a bit of wiping had it completely clean. Then, after washing her hands one more time, she returned to the bedroom and put it all away.

"You took a while. Is everything OK?" Andrea asked as Tamsin returned to the kitchen. Tamsin just nodded in response. "I've put your laptop there." Andrea pointed to the other end of the kitchen table.

Tamsin sat down and joined her.

It was gone six when Andrea looked up from her laptop and announced that she had done enough for the day. 

"I'm just in the middle of something," Tamsin responded. "I don't want to lose the thread. If you don't mind I'll stick around and finish it."

"Mind, why should I mind? I'll leave the keys with you and see you back here first thing tomorrow, OK?"

"That's fine. I'll get here for eight thirty, that's a promise."

"OK, good night, don't work too hard." And, with that, Andrea was off.

Andrea was hardly out of the door before Tamsin was up and out of her chair. She went to the window and, standing back so she couldn't be seen, watched Andrea walk out of the end of the mews. Ever since she had removed the plug she had had this empty feeling from 'down there' and, as the day had dragged on, she had wanted, more and more, to feel, once again, the plug inside her. It hadn't been comfortable but that wasn't the point; there had been something about it that made her want to go back for more. She went through to the bedroom and opened the drawer where they had tidied the harness away. Along with the strapping and the tail there was the range of butt plugs. She already knew how the small one felt but she also knew it didn't really push her limits. This time she wanted more than that. She picked up the next biggest and hefted it in her hand. The cool stainless steel gleamed. It was significantly fatter and heavier than the one she had tried earlier but, after all, that was the point, wasn't it? She put the plug, point upwards, on the dressing table.

But, if she was going to do this she had to get in the mood and that meant one thing and one thing only. It wasn't just the plug she wanted; it was all that went with it. In the drawer, along with the plugs and harness, was all the rest of the puppy gear. She reached for the mask, took it out and turned it back and forth in her hands feeling the resolve build within her. She could do this; she would do this. She put the mask down on the bed and stripped off her clothes, folding them over the back of a chair. Hard as it was, she carefully avoided looking in the mirrors as she picked up the mask and put it on. This time the straps were already adjusted and the fit was perfect from the start. There were just two buckles at the back and then, still without looking in the mirror, she put the collar around her neck. Now she could look.

She turned around and, there in the mirror, puppy girl looked back at her. Still, this was only the first part. She fetched a knife from the kitchen and, used it to attach the plug to the harness. Then she spread a liberal amount of lube over the plug and prepared to insert it. This was harder than she had imagined. She had problems with both reach and position. First she tried simply reaching around but her butt cheeks were too close together. Then she tried squatting down but that was too unstable and she nearly fell over. She thought about sitting on the toilet but the straps would dangle in the bowl and she definitely didn't want that. Eventually she ended up with one foot on toilet seat and the other on the floor. Now she could reach and was reasonably stable.

At first it didn't seem to want to go in; at first Tamsin had to push quite hard simply to get past her entrance but then it broke through and maybe half an inch or so was inside her. Remembering what Andrea had done she twisted it from side to side and that seemed to make things easier. Slowly and incredibly carefully, she eased it further and further inside herself but, as the plug got deeper it got wider, and fitting it got harder. She felt stretched beyond endurance; it was almost too much.

'Come on, you always bottle out of everything. Let's see this one through,' she told herself firmly. 'Now, try and relax.'

Maybe this talking to did help. She pushed one more time and suddenly it was inside her and her sphincter had closed around the neck. It felt enormous; far more intense than the smaller one. Feverishly, before she could change her mind, she did up the straps of the harness. There, she'd done it! She picked a couple of baby wipes out of the container and wiped herself down before going to the basin to thoroughly wash her hands.

As she stood at the basin she looked at the puppy staring back from the bathroom cabinet mirror. But that wasn't enough. She could only see her head. She wanted more, much more. She dried her hands and went back to the bedroom and the full sized mirrors. Now she could really take it all in. The look, the feeling, the sensations; this was amazing! She looked at the rear paws still lying on the bed but rejected the idea; she didn't want to crawl. Still looking in the mirror she turned from side to side letting the tail swish back and forth behind her. On a whim she held up her hands in front of her as claws and growled. She looked, she felt, wild, that was the only word for it, wild. This was a puppy girl who would need taming. She felt restless; she wanted more. Simply staring at herself in the mirror wasn't enough so she walked around the flat deliberately going near the windows. She went into the lounge and turned on the music system, choosing an Ibiza Trance selection and filling the flat with sound. Losing herself in the music she stood in front of the big bay window and danced. Did she want to be seen? That was a moot point but the raw excitement of potential exposure was thrilling her to the core. Standing there, swaying to the rhythm and looking out over the street, she reached up and played with her nipples. There were people about but, for the moment, none of them looked up. If anyone did spot her, if they did notice, would they see shy and timid Tamsin? No! They would see puppy girl!

Still leaving the music playing she went about the flat deliberately doing 'normal' things: tidying up, putting away her laptop, washing up the coffee mugs. All the time she could feel this enormous lump, this intruder, this fullness, this butt plug inside her. The intensity of the plug contrasted vividly with the softness of the fur cascading down behind her which felt so good against her legs. While she was doing the dishes she gave a little wiggle just to taste the feelings and highlight the contrast between the mundaneness of the washing up and the otherworldliness of being puppy girl.

As she ran out of tasks to do she knew this was merely putting off what this was, inevitably, leading towards. The two straps, running like a 'V' on either side of her pubic mound seemed to induce her to touch herself. Tamsin found it hard enough to play with herself in private, let alone with anyone else present but puppy girls weren't like that; they had an animal approach to sex and sensuality. They knew no shame, they knew no false modesty. Let the world see; such rampant exhibitionism was right up puppy girl's street. Again she went to the window and her hands strayed to her sex but, although a potential observer might guess what she was doing, with her hands below the sill, none would actually see. 

And this led her back to the bedroom. She half opened some of the wardrobe doors and arranged them to create a circle of mirrors, each one reflecting her image back at her. And what an image it was. This sexual being, so wild, so liberated, was free to become her own erotic dancer. She felt the last of her reservations fall away. Surely this half girl, half puppy, this sensual and sensuous dancer who gyrated back and forth, her whole body oozing sex, could never be the shy and retiring Tamsin; this was puppy girl!

As part of the dance, purely as part of the dance, puppy girl's fingers strayed to her groin where they just brushed against the petals of her sex which had opened, inviting, nay demanding her caress. This dance, this tease, was so delicious that she wished it could last forever but she couldn't hold back any more and her fingers circled round and round pushing her higher and higher. Her legs were giving out so she backed away, propping herself on the edge of the bed, still entranced by the image in the mirror. 

And then the climax came. She arched her back until she flopped backwards onto the bed. Rolling sideways she could see, there in the mirror, puppy girl, laid on the bed, her hand working furiously between her thighs. Oh, yes, oh yes, oh yes.... Oh....

"Tamsin, are you still here? I got all the way to Euston before I realised I'd taken the wrong keys. I took the flat keys by mistake. Mine are on the dressing table. I've had to come all the way back again. Still, at least... Oh! Oh my god! Tamsin! Err... I'll just leave the flat keys here, shall I?"

As the bedroom door closed behind the fast retreating figure of Andrea, Tamsin, still with her hands clamped between her thighs, wished the bed would just open up and swallow her whole. She felt quite literally sick with the humiliation. How had she been so stupid? How had she let herself get so carried away? How would she ever face Andrea in the morning?



Royal Flush Ch. 04



****** Please Read This First *******

I know, I know, I usually don't bother with the disclaimer bits either. Blah, blah, blah, over 18, blah, blah, blah, don't read if easily offended, blah, blah, blah. But, just this once, please bear with me and read this one.

Firstly, this is chapter four of ten and the story will only make sense if you read it from the start. If you haven't already done so then I sincerely urge you stop and go to chapter one. It will be better that way, honest.

Secondly, this is a work of fiction and all the characters are completely fictional. In particular, one of the main characters is Princess Charlotte who is, according to chapter one, "about tenth in line for the throne". Now, in real life, there can only be one person who holds that position but this story is not real life and it's definitely not about her. 

Princess Charlotte is not a real person and any resemblance is purely coincidental. Before I get carted off to live out what is left of the rest of my life in the Tower Of London, I want to stress that this story is set in a parallel universe where Britain has a very different Royal family with a very different line of succession.

Thirdly, briefly but importantly, my heartfelt thanks to all those who have helped so much. Especial mention must go, as ever, to 'V', OneWhoAdores and MartiniMan for help along the way.

Fourthly, once again, I fall neatly between the BDSM and Lesbian Love categories. This story centres on a BDSM club and much of the action has a BDSM theme. However, it's a bit short on the whips and chains to really be a BDSM story. On the other hand those looking for a lesbian themed story may well end up complaining, as a critic once did, that my stories always seem to feature a D/s relationship. This one is no exception; its a lesbian love story with BDSM overtones. If this is not what you're looking for stop reading now. That's kinder than voting one star because it wasn't what you were after.

Lastly, this is a story of deception and subterfuge. Most of the characters have at least two names, many three or even four. To help the reader keep track each chapter will start with a dramatis personae. The list for this chapter is:-

The list for this chapter is:-

Andrea, a journalist, masquerading as Emma Pearson from Paarl.

Tamsin, another journalist, masquerading as Emma Pearson's sub, Susan Ward, puppy name Snookums

Angus, Editor of the Daily Sleaze, a London based tabloid newspaper.

Euthenia, a Domme along with Calliope, her sub, puppy name Poohbear

Arete, a Domme along with Aegeria, her sub, puppy name Noodles

Princess Charlotte, a princess.

Enjoy

*******

That night Tamsin hardly slept a wink, tossing and turning, worrying about what Andrea had seen and what she would do about it. When, come five in the morning with sun crawling in over the window sill, she was still awake she had to accept that sleep wasn't going to happen and she might as well get up and get on with the day. She thought of calling in sick but she had the keys to the flat and the song and dance that Andrea would make if she didn't turn up didn't bear thinking about. Even so she couldn't manage breakfast and, as the half empty train rattled its way into town, she felt sick to her stomach. At least arriving that early meant she was well ahead of the rush and, for once, she was able to find a seat on the tube.

When she arrived at the flat she made herself another coffee and sat down at the kitchen table with her laptop. If she couldn't sleep she might as well put her time to good use and she continued to use all the usual sources to try and build up a list of Lady Mary's friends and acquaintances. They were pretty sure they had identified Euthenia and Artemis and, probably, their partners as well. What had held them back for a while was that Euthenia and Calliope were both, strictly speaking, married although, with Euthenia, it would appear to be in name only. 

In fact the work helped her to relax and, for a while, lose herself. This was brought to an abrupt end when, just short of nine o'clock, the front doorbell rang. Tamsin went to the door, peered through the spy hole, saw that it was Andrea and, with a feeling of 'time to get this over with' let her in.

"Good morning!" Andrea said cheerfully. "God, you look like shit." 

"I've got a bit of a gippy tummy," Tamsin replied. "Spent most of last night on the loo so I didn't get much sleep."

"Gippy tummy? I assumed it was embarrassment over being caught in flagrante delecto." Andrea couldn't keep the amusement out of her voice. 

"Please, Andrea, about that...."

"About what? Oh yes, I remember now, about me coming back to find you all dressed up in the puppy gear frigging your self crazy in the bedroom. You of all people. I never would have guessed. They always say the quiet ones are the worst." Andrea obviously saw the whole thing as a complete joke.

"Please, don't tell anyone, will you, please," Tamsin pleaded.

"Well, I thought of writing it up for the staff newsletter but... Oh don't look like that. This piece of gossip is far too good for those jerks back at the office. Your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks, Andrea, you're a brick." The wave of relief that swept through Tamsin was so immense she could almost hug Andrea.

"You still owe me, big time. Next time I need a favour I know where to call."

"Of course, anything, anything at all."

Andrea smiled to herself. It had been quite a shock to open the door the previous evening and find Tamsin in such a state. Of course she knew that there were people who got off on all this pony and puppy play, look at Lady Mary and her friends, but to find that mousy little Tamsin was one of them... well, you live and learn. She'd keep her word and not spread it around the office but it was good to have something like this available. If they ever came up against each other it would be a weapon in her armoury and she wouldn't be afraid to use it. There was an additional factor that made it sound policy to keep this a secret for a while. Until this assignment was over they were stuck working together and she didn't want there to be an atmosphere between them.

So, with that out of the way, they settled down to work. At nine thirty it was time for their daily phone conference with Angus to keep him up to speed with developments. They went through to the lounge and Andrea switched her phone into speaker mode.

"So, how are you two getting on? Am I seeing anything yet for all the money I'm pouring into this?" Angus asked.

"We're pretty sure we've identified everyone who was there the other night," Andrea replied. "We're working on building up a portfolio of all Lady Mary's circle so we can identify them quicker next time out."

"Talking of which, is there any news on that front?"

"Not yet. I really don't want to appear pushy on this one. We have to wait on Lady Mary," As ever, Andrea answered for them both.

"Well, give her until the weekend. I'm not paying you two to sit around in luxury all day, you know."

"We're working really hard," Andrea protested. "Tamsin, in particular, has been really throwing herself into this and working like a dog to find out as much as she can about what they get up to."

Tamsin blushed at the "working like a dog" quip.

"Hmm... we'll see. I'm still not absolutely convinced you really needed to move out of the office and into the flat. I'd much prefer to keep my eyes on you," Angus said dubiously. "If I don't see results I'm going to assume that you're not working. OK, leave it at that for now. We'll have another conference later this afternoon." And with that he ended the call.

They worked through the morning and their portfolio of high society movers and shakers with connections to Lady Mary grew considerably. Tamsin was busy collating all the facts and photos into one big file, and, as she did so, she was wondering which were involved in Lady Mary's club, which she might actually meet and under what circumstances. It was one thing to look at a photograph of a person as part of a story you were putting together; it was something completely different when you were wondering if you were going to end up performing degrading sex acts for them. 

They were just starting again after a quick break for lunch when Andrea's mobile rang. Andrea looked at the screen, saw that she didn't recognise the number, and answered it.

"Hello, Emma Pearson," she said cautiously.

"Emma, darling, is that you? This is Euthenia. I hope you don't mind me calling but I wanted to get in touch so I asked Lady Mary to give me your number."

"Mind, no, not in the slightest," Andrea replied. "It's lovely to hear from you. I had so much fun the other night."

"So did I and, well, that's rather what I'm calling about. I was so taken that gorgeous little maid of yours and she looked so sweet as a puppy that I can't wait to try it out with Calliope. Anyway, that got me wondering whether we could get together sometime soon and maybe swap tips on training techniques. Neither Lady Mary nor Artemis are available for the next week or so which means it can either be just the two of us, or, if you like, you could get to meet some more of the gang."

"That would be super. I can't wait to meet you all so the more the merrier. What exactly did you have in mind?"

"Well, I took the liberty of anticipating your answer and I've been talking to Arete, an old friend of mine. She's got a lovely little cottage out in Bedfordshire and she's invited us all up to play in her garden. I thought that, what with all the lovely weather we've been having recently, it would be fun to play out doors. We don't often get this much sunshine and it would be a shame to waste it."

"Oh, I couldn't agree more. I'm simply sweltering here in the city."

"Let me make a few more phone calls. It's going to take a while to make all the arrangements but can we pencil in, say, Thursday afternoon? Does that work for you?"

"Thursday, Thursday.... I can't see any problems with that. What sort of dress code were you thinking of?"

"Well, it's basically a day out in the country so we're not going posh or formal. I'll probably be going for something tweedy. Is that agreeable?"

"Super, absolutely super! I have just the thing," Andrea gushed. "So, what happens next?"

"Well, leave it with me to finalise the arrangements and I'll get back to you," Euthenia replied. "I'll let you know one way or another by midday tomorrow."

"Oh, I do hope you can get it all organised. I really am looking forward to it and I know that puppy will just love a run in the country."

"Splendid, just splendid! Until tomorrow then," and, with that, Euthenia rang off.

"We're on!" Andrea called out to Tamsin as soon as the call had ended and then, immediately, she was on the phone to Angus.

"We've got another meeting!" she enthused. "The details are still a bit hazy but it looks like were going to meet another member of the gang. This one owns a place in Bedfordshire which means it's almost certainly not Princess Charlotte but it's another to add to the list. What's more, with all the background research we've done, it shouldn't take us too long to identify her. One small point, I'm going to need something in tweed, something suitable for a day out in the country."

"Yet more expenses," Angus groaned. "This story is costing thousands and you still haven't got anywhere near Princess Charlotte. Keep the receipts and don't go mad. Now, how are you two getting on, sitting around all day doing sweet Fanny Adams?"

"We're working really hard and putting together some excellent stuff. I'll email my report as soon as possible. Meanwhile Tamsin's like a dog with a bone, digging away. There can't be that many society ladies of the right sort of age who own cottages in Bedfordshire so I'm sure we'll know exactly who this Arete is long before we meet her. We're going to involve quite a few of the movers and shakers in this little thing."

"Be that as it may, without Princess Charlotte it's still not making the front page. I want royalty. That's what sells, royalty."

"OK," Andrea said to Tamsin once the phone call was finished. "It looks like we'll be in full puppy mode on Thursday. There's something for you to look forward to."

"Look forward to? If you think for one moment...."

"Well, after last night.... What's that face for? I just said I wouldn't tell anyone else. I didn't promise to.... OK, OK... wow, you are grumpy today. Can't you take a joke?" 

"It's not that much of a joke for some of us," Tamsin retorted. "Do I have to remind you which one of us will be scampering around in the big outdoors buck naked except for a tail shoved up her arse?"

"But I thought you liked that sort of thing." Andrea ducked as Tamsin threw her pen across the room at her. "OK, OK, I won't mention it again."

"You won't mention it again like you can't have a phone conference with Angus without getting a dog comment in there somewhere."

Much as Andrea was having fun she didn't want to push it too hard. After all her next suggestion was going to be hard enough as it was.

"Look, Tamsin," Andrea said calmly, "I was just mucking around but to be serious for a moment, we're supposed to be experienced in this puppy play lark and, apart from what I've read on the internet, I know fuck all about it." 

"And what makes you think I know any more than you?"

"Well...," Andrea was just about to mention the previous night but realised that it wouldn't be helpful. "OK, neither of us knows anything about it but that just makes it worse. Come Thursday we've both got to look like we're experts. We've got to have more than a few basic moves worked out."

"What are you implying this time?" Tamsin said wearily.

"I'm implying that we have to practice some puppy play before we do it in front of the others," Andrea said firmly. "We've got to look like we know what we're doing, we've got to look like this puppy play bollocks is part and parcel of our relationship."

"And, let me guess, you want to have this practice session with me in full puppy gear."

"Well, it makes sense."

"How so?"

"Because otherwise it won't be a proper practice," Andrea said with some exasperation. "Please, Tamsin, I'm not mucking around here, really I'm not. I just want us to be perfect on Thursday. We're doing so well so far. We've all but fooled them into thinking we're the real thing, we're getting ourselves accepted. We really don't want to blow it now."

"I suppose so," Tamsin said wearily. "But what about you? Shouldn't you be in costume as well? While I'm in puppy gear you're wearing what, tweed? Where were you thinking of going for that, Harvey Nichols?"

"It's going to be about the one time in my life I can afford to. As long as Angus doesn't see the receipts until after we get the story then we'll get away with it. Come on, it will be a blast."

"Who's this 'we' who will get away with it? I'm not getting anything from Harvey Nicks," Tamsin said sourly. She turned her laptop so that Andrea could see the screen. "For fucks sake, look at this."

While they had been chatting Tamsin had Googled Harvey Nichols and then searched for 'tweed'. The results showed a number of outfits, and, more relevantly their prices. 

"Wow, over a grand for a jacket. That I've got to have!" Andrea exclaimed. "Again with the face! What's your problem? If we're going to fit in we have to look the part. I'll bet that lot all shop there and if I turn up with something from Marks and Sparks or, heaven help us, Primark, then we'll be spotted straight away."

"I'm not sure Primark has ever sold anything in tweed," Tamsin said with a smile. "Yeah, you're right, of course, you will have to get something top of the range, but does it really need the two of us to trek down to Knightsbridge?"

"Come along, it will be fun."

And, reluctantly, Tamsin agreed to go.

Even before they had gone through Harvey Nichol's front door Tamsin's socialist hackles had started to rise. She felt that the shop pandered to the worst in the rich and over-privileged and, like Lady Mary's home, was a symbol of everything she despised. This didn't help her mood and she trailed despondently after Andrea looking to find the worst in everything. She was the only one there wearing jeans and tee shirt and she felt that she stuck out like a sore thumb. Andrea, by comparison, was having the time of her life.

And, of course, when it came down to it, the sales staff were perfectly delightful and could not have been more helpful. Andrea explained that she needed a new tweed outfit for a day in the country with some friends who were dog lovers and, in no time, she was being fitted out with a skirt and matching jacket. However, that was only the start. The next stop was a white silk blouse and, after that, a pair of brown brogues. The brogues, of course, implied stockings, which, in turn, meant something to hold them up. After a certain amount of indecision, and plenty of help from an assistant, they, or rather Andrea, decided on a white basque with matching lacy panties.

"After all," she said to Tamsin in an aside, "who wears Marks and Sparks undies under Harvey Nicks tweed."

It was approaching lunch time by the time they had finished so they grabbed a quick bite in town before heading back to the flat. This time Tamsin was more assertive and flatly refused to carry the bags so it was Andrea who flopped down weary in an armchair and asked, no demanded, that Tamsin make the tea. When Tamsin brought the tray through to the lounge Andrea had already started to unpack.

"Full dress rehearsal?" Tamsin asked.

"We'll have our tea first but, after that, we'll go for it. Do you know," Andrea stood up and held the skirt against her waist, "this is the first skirt I've worn since I was in school."

"The things you have to suffer for this story. My heart bleeds for you," Tamsin replied caustically. "Come along, bring your tea into the bedroom. Let's see how it looks once the outfit is complete."

They went through to the bedroom and put the clothes on the bed. Then Andrea stripped off and reached for the basque. Tamsin helped her into it, fastening up the hooks and eyes at the back. Then she knelt down on the floor and helped Andrea into the nylon stockings. Andrea then put on the panties, the blouse and the tweed skirt while Tamsin sat on the bed and watched. Whilst Tamsin wasn't particularly attracted to Andrea she had to admit that the smart, formal lines of the skirt and blouse suited her and, once Andrea put on the jacket and stepped into the brogues, the effect was quite impressive. She did, indeed, look like some sort of upper class dog trainer. What is more, although Tamsin would never admit it to Andrea, there was something about the outfit that appealed to puppy girl. If she were to be tamed, if she were to roll over and have her tummy tickled, then the woman who would do it would be dressed like that.

"Well, that's me sorted. Now, how about my little puppy?" Andrea said turning back from admiring herself in the mirror.

With an internal sigh Tamsin got up off the bed and started to take off her clothes. The 'my little puppy' line stung. Much as the woman who could tame puppy girl might be dressed like Andrea, she certainly wouldn't be Andrea. It wasn't just the lack of any affection between them, though that in itself was reason enough, it was also that it was quite clear that Andrea didn't understand puppy play, or indeed, any of what they were having to get involved with, in anything more than an intellectual level. 

When Tamsin finally stepped out of her panties she felt almost as vulnerable as she had done the first time. For one thing, the way that she had been discovered her last night had given Andrea a window into her sexuality. Even though Andrea was keeping her face expressionless, Tamsin could almost hear the unspoken 'you're getting off on this, aren't you?' and the contempt that went with. On the other hand she had no valid reason to refuse and any sudden squeamishness would only give Andrea even more power over her. She put her panties on the pile of clothes on the bed and turned to Andrea who was now sat at the dressing table and holding out the mask for her.




Royal Flush Ch. 04



As soon as Tamsin slipped on the mask she began to feel more comfortable. Whilst she would never admit to Andrea the roil of emotions within, she could hide them behind the mask and the excuse of practising. After the mask came the paws and, with them, the feeling of dependence. This was reinforced when Andrea fastened the collar around her neck and Tamsin could feel the resulting tingle from between her thighs.

Andrea reached into the drawer, fetched out the small and medium butt plugs and held them up, one in each hand. Sheepishly, but knowing that the mask would hide her blushes, Tamsin pointed her mitted hand at the medium one. Andrea laughed, put the smaller one back in the drawer and fetched out the large one but Tamsin just shook her head.

"OK, assume the position," Andrea said as she put the large plug back in the drawer and reached for the rubber gloves and the lube. Once again, Andrea was cold and clinical as applied the lube, pushing her finger deep inside Tamsin and opening her up. Was it Tamsin's imagination or was it easier this time. Whether she had become stretched and hence more open or whether she was simply more relaxed was moot. Maybe it was a mix of the two.

Andrea spent a moment or two fitting the plug to the harness and then applying the lube before, with a cheerful 'open wide', she presented it to Tamsin's sphincter. Although this wasn't Tamsin's first time with this sized plug it still felt wider than last night. Maybe it was the cold, impersonal way that Andrea was pushing the plug in. Although she wasn't forcing anything she also wasn't being in any way empathetic about it. Tamsin was right on the point of crying out when, suddenly, the worst was over and her sphincter closed around the neck of the plug. Andrea wiped her down with some baby wipes before telling her to stand up so that she could do up the straps of the harness and fit the rear paws.

"Turn around," Andrea ordered and Tamsin did so. "Yeah, you look fine. Now, let's get some standard moves together. Heel!"

Tamsin just stared at Andrea.

"I said heel!" Andrea repeated. She took the crop from where it hung on the wall and waved it at Tamsin. "Come along or, practice or no practice, I'll use this to give you some encouragement."

"For Pete's sake," Tamsin started as she got down on her hands and knees.

"And there's another thing. Puppies don't talk. One bark for yes, two barks for no. That's all you're allowed."

"Woof, fucking, woof," Tamsin said bitterly but, noticeably, after that she held her tongue.

"That's it," Andrea said as used the crop to guide Tamsin into position. "Heel is on all fours with your shoulder in line with my knees. Now, sit!"

Tamsin went from all fours to kneeling. Again Andrea used the crop as a guide, moving Tamsin's knees apart so that her 'front paws' were between them. "And for god's sake, keep your head up and stick your tits out," she ordered, "Not that you've got that much to stick out", she added caustically.

Tamsin was getting increasingly frustrated and any tingle of excitement she might have felt while getting into the puppy gear had completely evaporated. Whilst she could appreciate the need to practice, and even the need to practice in full puppy gear, this had brought out the worst side of Andrea, the overbearing bossy cow who just loved pushing people around. What made it worse, far worse, was that Tamsin could sense that, under other circumstances, this could be just what puppy girl needed. It wasn't just the lack of any emotional connection between her and Andrea, there was also a lack of basic understanding on Andrea's part of what it meant to be a puppy Mistress. A real puppy Mistress would understand a puppy's needs, understand when a puppy should be indulged and understand when a firm hand was required. With Andrea there was a lack of any connection, any affection, and there was no real relationship between them. Along with all this Tamsin's lack of sleep was making her short tempered and she was increasingly having to bite back the words she wished she could say.

While Tamsin was growing more and more frustrated. Andrea was rather enjoying the games. She had evidently done some internet research as she kept referring to her laptop. Apart from the 'heel' and 'sit' positions she had Tamsin practice the 'down' and 'beg' positions, each time demanding an almost unobtainable perfection. Whilst harping on about the need to practice, practice, practice, she was obviously amused by the demeaning positions she was putting Tamsin into. It wasn't exactly nasty or malicious, more a smugness that it wasn't her that was crawling around on all fours or knelt up with her paws raised in front of her and her head to on side in the 'beg' position.

They were still hard at it when Andrea's mobile rang. Andrea picked up the phone, slumped down in and arm chair and answered the call.

"Ah, darling, wonderful news," Euthenia gushed. "It's all arranged. If I were to pick you up around ten o'clock on Thursday morning, how would that sound?"

"Fine, that sounds just fine. I'm so looking forward to this!"

As Andrea and Euthenia chatted away Tamsin was still crouched on the floor in the 'down' position. With only one half of the conversation audible it was hard to follow and she really couldn't be bothered. She entered a sort of daydream where she just wished that the woman sat in the armchair with her tweed skirt, stockinged calves and brown brogues was a real puppy Mistress. She wanted so much to just go and rest her head on her Mistress's lap, to be stroked, petted, rewarded for all her hard work and obedience. However, Andrea wasn't a puppy Mistress, she was just dressed like one and Tamsin knew well that, were she to act on her desires, then the result would be disaster. 

"We're on," Andrea said when she finally put the phone down. "Thursday morning, ten o'clock. She's coming here to pick us up and then taking us on to Bedfordshire. I'll let Angus know."

Again Tamsin had to wait while Andrea spoke on the phone. However this time it was brief and it wasn't long before Andrea turned her attention back to puppy training. They spent another couple of hours going through the moves before Tamsin had finally mutinied. The final straw come when Andrea ordered Tamsin back into the beg position and then criticised her for not having her 'paws' at the same level and for not having her knees far enough apart.

"Fuck you; that's as good as your going to get. I've had it for today. I know we need to practice but we've done more than enough for now," Tamsin said as she got up off the floor. "I really think we've covered just about everything."

"Yeah, I guess so," Andrea replied reluctantly. "Come along then. Let's get changed."

They went back through to the bedroom and Andrea undid the mitts on Tamsin's hands. Now that her hands were free she could take off her rear paws, collar and mask before going through to the bathroom to remove the tail. Once she had eased the plug out of her posterior, wiped it down and washed her hands she sat on the toilet for a while. For a start it took a while for her backside to recover from the plug. Just sitting and relaxing was a necessary part of recovery. But it wasn't just the physical side. She felt small and alone. Her reaction to the puppy play needed some assimilation. She wished she had someone she could talk to, someone who would understand. It wasn't just that she couldn't talk to Andrea about it without inviting ridicule; she felt that none of her friends would understand. There was no one she could share this with. 

It had been just the same when she had realised that she was lesbian, that the urges within her did not conform to the norm, that she had to keep them locked away inside. At least, when she had finally found the courage to come out there were plenty of others to offer help and support. This time there was no one; this time it would be harder to find someone who understood. Look at Andrea's reaction when she had been caught the previous night; that was what she could probably expect from most of her friends. But, for all the difficulties, she would have to find someone. This puppy play, although so false and shallow when played with Andrea, had awoken desires within her that she couldn't ignore. 

With a sigh she picked up the harness and returned to the bedroom.

Later that night Tamsin was still thinking it through as she lay in her bed, trying to sleep. How could she explain to others how she felt about puppy play when she wasn't sure exactly what it was that was so appealing? There was a freedom, a release, that came from living behind the mask. She remembered that from playing with herself in front of the windows in the London flat. But that freedom had been only part of the picture. Today she had sensed a whole other aspect. Along with the freedom came its need to be tamed. A puppy needs a Mistress, someone to come home to, someone who understands a puppy's needs, who knows when to let puppies run free and when to rein them in, someone who, when the games were over, could give the love that puppies craved, someone who could see right through the mask, right through to the soul within. With dreams of tweed skirts and puppy masks she drifted off to sleep.

Come Thursday morning and both Andrea and Tamsin arrived at the flat well before eight. They were both anxious to be ready long before Euthenia's expected arrival at ten. Andrea had hand washed the blouse, underwear and stockings that went with her tweed outfit and, while Tamsin made them both a cup of coffee, she was running an iron over the blouse to ensure that it was pristine.

"I thought this would be suitable for getting there," Tamsin indicated the slacks and blouse outfit she was wearing.

"But I arranged it with Euthenia. I thought you knew. You're going in costume," Andrea countered.

"What!"

"It's all agreed with Euthenia. She's picking us up at ten and she's expecting me in my tweeds along with my puppy dog."

"And why didn't you tell me this?"

"I thought you must have overheard me when I was on the phone organising the details. I guess you were too busy being a little puppy dog to take an interest in the job in hand."

"Too busy..." Tamsin said in amazement.

"Well, anyway, it's all arranged so we can't change anything now. Why do you have to make such a fuss about everything?"

"Fuss! You'd make a fuss if you were expected to go out onto the street wearing nothing except a puppy mask and a tail up your jacksie. What on earth were you thinking of? I'll get arrested."

"Don't be dumb," Andrea replied. "No one is expecting you to go out on the street naked. You can wear my trench coat, well, at least between the flat and the car. We'll all be wearing masks so, even if you're seen, no one will know who you are. All we have to do is get all togged up and ready to go so that, as soon she pulls up outside, we can nip down and into the car and no one will see anything."

"You're mad if you think I'm going to agree to that," Tamsin could feel herself starting to panic.

"OK, let me just phone Angus and tell him you've cried off...." Andrea picked up her phone and took it out of standby mode.

"No, no, hang on a minute," Tamsin said hurriedly. The last thing she wanted was a row with Angus. "I'll be wearing your trench coat between the front door and the car."

"That's it."

"Once again I don't suppose I have much choice, do I?" Tamsin asked bitterly. "I guess I just have to agree."

"Yes you do. Get over it. Now come along and let's get changed," and, with that, Andrea marched off to the bedroom.

Although she wouldn't say so out loud, now that the real thing was drawing close, Tamsin was actually grateful for all the practice sessions. Although the butt plug was still huge within her either she was getting more adept or her sphincter was getting stretched because it seemed easier to insert. Similarly the rest of the outfit had become more natural, the buckles seemed to know which hole they wanted to go through and they were both more practiced at fastening them up. By nine thirty they were both completely in costume and Andrea was helping Tamsin into her trench coat. Although Tamsin was probably going to spend the bulk of the day barefoot she slipped on a pair of shoes just to go out to the car. Tamsin looked at herself in the mirror. With the trench coat and shoes the puppy mask looked a bit surreal but at least she was decent. 

It was well that they were ready early because it was a quarter to ten when Euthenia phoned to announce that she was waiting outside. 

"Are you ready?" Andrea asked with an air of excitement. "Come on, it's show time!"

Tamsin, who was far more anxious about what they were getting into just nodded apprehensively. Andrea knew that she had to take control so she put her hand in the small of Tamsin's back and guided her out of the door, down the lift and out onto the street. Euthenia's car was long and black with tinted rear windows. Standing next to it was a chauffeur which Andrea and Tamsin assumed to be Calliope but it was hard to tell as she had her peaked cap pulled down low so as to obscure her face. She opened the rear door and motioned Andrea and Tamsin inside where Euthenia was waiting for them. Andrea sat down on the seat next to Euthenia but when Tamsin went to do the same Andrea pushed her back.

"Now, now, puppy, you're not allowed on the seats. You should know that," Andrea said firmly. "Down on the floor, there's a good girl."

Fortunately there was plenty of room in the back of the car and, with a certain amount of guidance from Andrea, Tamsin ended up knelt on the floor of the limo facing back towards the two Dommes.

"Oh, your puppy looks splendid," Euthenia said. "What a lovely puppy dog face. It's plenty warm enough here in the car. I don't think she needs her coat any more."

"I couldn't agree more. Come along little puppy." Andrea leaned forward in her seat and helped Tamsin out of the trench coat which she then folded up and put on the seat beside her. Euthenia then pressed a button and the car drew off into the London traffic. While Andrea and Euthenia chatted away Tamsin tried to look about her. However, her uncomfortable perch down on the floor of the car, combined with the heavily tinted windows made it hard to to make out any detail of the streets that they passed through. Furthermore, as the car made its way through the streets, Tamsin was finding it hard to keep upright and, after a particularly sharp corner, she toppled sideways into Euthenia who reached out and, putting her hand on Tamsin's shoulder, held her there.

"I'm so impressed with your puppy and how beautiful she looks," Euthenia said to Andrea "Let's have a look at that tail," Euthenia leaned forward so that she could look down Tamsin's back, "oh, splendid! Perfect! Oh we are going to have such fun!"

Tamsin was in a quandary. She really didn't want to encourage Euthenia more than was necessary but, with all the swaying about as they moved through the traffic, it was safer to be held like this. Moreover, as she made herself comfortable, she couldn't help but give the impression that she was responding to being held. At least she was to one side and not between Euthenia's knees.

"And she's so affectionate too," Euthenia commented. "What's her name?"

"She's called Snookums. A baby name for a baby puppy."

"Oh, Snookums, how precious. I so look forward to getting to know her better," Euthenia lifted Tamsin's chin and stared into her eyes. "Are you a good little puppy, Snookums?"

"Woof," Tamsin barked in response.

From the limited clues available to her Tamsin could only guess at their route. First there was the stop-start movements as the car made its way through London and then the steady purr as it ate up the motorway miles. Once on the motorway she could just about make out the overhead signs and she was pretty sure that she saw Toddington Services pass by which meant, as they pulled off the motorway shortly afterwards, they must have left the motorway on junction thirteen and now be in south Bedfordshire. After the smooth miles of the motorway the twisty lanes of rural England made it, once again, hard for Tamsin to stay upright and she ended up, once again, giving the impression of snuggling into Euthenia who responded by holding her tight.

And then there was the rumble of a cattle grid followed by a short stretch of road before the car finally pulled to a halt. There was a brief pause as the chauffeur got out and then the door was opened and the sunlight streamed in. Euthenia was first out of the car followed by Andrea who, taking the leash out of her pocket, reached back into the car so as to clip it to Tamsin's collar and then gave it a tug to encourage her out of the car.

It was a bit awkward for Tamsin on her hands and knees but, once again, she was out of options. Now they had arrived she was firmly in 'puppy mode' and any attempt to stand upright would be out of character. Andrea gave another gentle tug of encouragement and then, as Tamsin finally made it out of the car, gave her the 'heel' command. Tamsin quickly took her place at Andrea's side and then looked around. 

Calling this a cottage was stretching the definition to its limit. They had parked up in a courtyard surrounded by buildings built from the local red brick. Along one side were stables, some of which were occupied. Another side consisted of general storage areas, the third was the back of a large house while the fourth side was basically a wall with a gateway to the outside world. As she looked around she saw, emerging from the stable block, a woman dressed, like Euthenia and Andrea, in tweeds as if for a day in the country. Crawling along on hands and knees beside her was another woman dressed in little more than a black leather mask and a tail projecting from her rear.

"Euthenia, darling! Super to see you. You have made good time. And you must be Emma," the woman said as she approached.

"Hi Arete, this is Emma, Emma Pearson," Euthenia replied. "Emma, let me introduce you to Arete."

As Euthenia made the introductions Arete's puppy came up to Tamsin and started to nuzzle her as if she were a real dog. Tamsin knew she had to keep in role and that meant that she would have to reciprocate so she nuzzled back. It seemed almost as if both 'puppies' were keen to outdo each other in showing how deep in role they were. 

"Oh, look!" Arete exclaimed. "Our puppies are getting to know each other. Now, Euthenia, darling, why don't you take Calliope to the stables and get her changed. You know where everything is. Meanwhile, I'll show Emma around and we'll meet up in the gardens."

"OK, see you in a minute or two," Euthenia replied before turning and, followed by Calliope, headed off towards the stable block.

"Now, Emma, my dear, you must tell me all about yourself. Lady Mary has been singing your praises and I'm just dying to find out all about you."

Andrea regurgitated the well worn tales of Paarl and why she had come to the UK and, as she did so, Arete led her towards the gate at the end of the courtyard. Tamsin was glad of the mitts and knee pads as, although the ground was brick paved, she was having to move quite fast to keep up and, without pads, her knees and hands would have been badly scuffed. She glanced across at the other 'puppy'. With the full mask it was hard to see any emotions but, from the flicker of her eyes through the holes in the mask she saw that her interest was reciprocated. At Lady Mary's house her role had been to provide oral sex to the Dommes; what was going to be required here?

Once through the main gate Arete led them around the side of the house and into a formally laid out walled garden.

"Gosh, this is lovely," Andrea enthused and, indeed it was. Beautifully laid out walkways between beds full of flowers gave a mixture of open spaces and quiet alcoves. More importantly for Tamsin, she was now crawling over soft turf rather than hard brick.




Royal Flush Ch. 04



"We are rather proud of it. Mostly Victorian, of course, but the basic design goes back to when the house was rebuilt in the eighteenth century. When it was first laid out the garden was the main source of vegetables for the household but, nowadays, we're mostly floral. It's one of my favourite spots in the whole world. One can be so private here. And here we are."

Arete had led them to the middle of the garden where there was a small square lawn and, in the centre, there was a cast iron table complete with a wide canvas parasol. Already laid out on the table were a couple of bottles of champagne, each in it's ice bucket and, tucked away under the table, there was a large wicker picnic hamper.

"Please, take a seat," Arete said. "We'd best let the puppies lie in the shade for now. If I sort them out with a drink of water perhaps you could open the champers."

"Certainly," Andrea replied. "Down, Snookums, there's a good girl." Andrea unclipped the leash and put it in her pocket.

Tamsin, glad of the shade from the parasol, went into the down position and Arete's puppy lay down beside her. Whilst Andrea opened the champagne Arete fetched out from under the table three dog bowls and a vacuum jug of iced water. She filled the bowls and laid them out in a row in front of the two puppies. Arete had to remove the muzzle part of her puppy's mask so that she could drink and, as she was doing so, Euthenia arrived with Calliope in tow, now also in puppy gear. Seeing the two other puppies laid out on the grass along with the three bowls in front of them Euthenia led Calliope to lie down beside them.

"How pretty they look," Euthenia said. "Our three little puppies. Ah, is that champagne for me?"

Andrea passed Euthenia her a glass and the three Dommes sat down at the table.

"So, what do you propose?" Andrea asked.

"Well," Arete replied, "I gather you're supposed to be the expert but I'll admit to having done some research and I have got a few ideas of my own but let's not rush into things. You must want to relax after your journey. There will be plenty of time for play later. But there is one little point I'd like to clear up," Arete continued. "Euthenia has told me that you have no problems with sharing your puppy, is that right?"

"No problems at all," Andrea replied. "Please feel free to exercise her in any way that takes your fancy."

"Splendid, simply splendid!" Arete said. "Of course that goes for our puppies as well and that brings me to my first suggestion. I think it's quite important, before anything else, that we see that our puppies are properly cared for and, with this glorious weather, our puppies are going to need some sunscreen or they'll burn. This is why I asked about sharing. I thought it might be nice if, rather than sticking to our own puppies, we did one another's. Help with the bonding process, sort of thing."

Tamsin was less than enamoured with what she was hearing. While it made perfect sense to use sunscreen, indeed, on a day such as this, it would be foolish not to, it didn't take a genius to figure out what Arete meant by 'the bonding process'. It looked like, once again, she was about to be sexually molested by strangers. But then, that was a given as soon as they had agreed to come to this puppy show.

"I think that's a splendid idea," Euthenia said, rather enthusiastically. 

"So why don't you start with Noodles?" Arete said.

"Noodles?" Euthenia seemed uncertain.

"My puppy's name," Arete explained, sotto voce.

"OK, of course, how silly of me. My puppy, she's called... called Poohbear" Euthenia replied. It was obvious that she hadn't actually thought of a puppy name and was making one up on the spur of the moment.

"Here's the cream," Arete said passing over a bottle of Ambre Solaire. "Come along, Noodles, up you get, go to Euthenia, there's a good girl."

Tamsin, who had been watching closely from her place on the lawn, had seen the flicker of disappointment cross Euthenia's face. It was obvious which 'puppy' she would have chosen and Tamsin wondered what Calliope, or should that be Poohbear, thought about this. Arete saw Tamsin looking and gave her a smile. It seemed that Arete, like Euthenia and Lady Mary before her, was anxious to have a turn with this new girl on the block.

Noodles, keeping on her hands and knees as a good puppy should, went over and positioned herself in front of Euthenia who squeezed a generous dollop of the sun screen and proceeded to spread it across her shoulders. Naturally it didn't stop there but continued over the rest of her body. At first the three Dommes continued chatting as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening. However, when Euthenia got down off her chair so as to smooth the cream across Noodles's breasts, despite their assumed nonchalance they were all were watching intently. Euthenia then moved round to Noodles's rear end and, as she smoothed the cream between Noodles's thighs, it was easy to see that, as far as Euthenia was concerned, the whole exercise was about sex play between the Domme and puppy. Euthenia had her hand deep between Noodles's thighs and, in response, Noodles was shamelessly rubbing herself against it.

"Now, now, control yourself," Euthenia chided and, to push the point home, she gave Noodles's rump a smack with her free hand. Noodles's reaction was to rub herself harder.

"What a naughty, naughty, puppy!" Euthenia exclaimed as she continued to smack Noodles's backside. "Really, Arete, you must teach this puppy how to behave!"

"I'm sure we will before the day is over," Arete replied with a laugh. "Now stop playing with her or we'll be here all day."

"OK, OK," Euthenia replied as she removed her hand from between Noodles's legs and, rather perfunctorily, set to work oh her calves. A few moments later she was finished and Noodles was sent back to her place beside Tamsin and Calliope. Euthenia then passed the bottle of Ambre Solaire to Andrea. 

"Perhaps you could do the honours on my Poohbear," Euthenia said reaching for a towel to wipe down her hands.

"Certainly, I'd love to," Andrea replied. "Here, Poohbear, good girl."

Poohbear crawled over just as Aergia had done. Tamsin watched as Andrea squeezed out a good handful of the cream and set to work. Tamsin felt that, as with Euthenia and Noodles, Andrea didn't really understand puppy play. Oh, she understood it in an academic sense but she didn't have a feel for it, she didn't understand that the dynamic between Mistress and puppy involved a sense of care and not just sexual high jinks. There was no doubting that she was having fun playing with Poohbear's body and Poohbear was having fun being played with but, for all the mask and tail, it was two women mucking about rather than puppy play. Fortunately Arete and Euthenia didn't seem to notice and, to judge by their rapt expressions, they were lapping it up. 

To be fair, Andrea was quite skilled as a tease and, for quite a while, she was busy keeping Poohbear right on the edge although it stretched credulity to the limit to suggest that what she was doing still had anything to do with applying sunscreen. However, for Poohbear to be forced to stay as a puppy as her body was pushed ever nearer to orgasm made for quite a show and the other four women watched attentively and were so preoccupied they didn't hear the garden gate being opened.

"Hi guys, is this a private party or can any one join in?"

Tamsin, along with the others, looked up to see who this newcomer was. There, coming across the lawn towards them, was a woman maybe a few years older than herself, a woman whose tweed outfit marked her out as another Domme. She was wearing a bottle green mask, but, mask or no mask, Tamsin had studied her subject well and, from the very first, she had known exactly whom this woman was. She had finally come face to face with Princess Charlotte.



Royal Flush Ch. 05



****** Please Read This First *******

I know, I know, I usually don't bother with the disclaimer bits either. Blah, blah, blah, over 18, blah, blah, blah, don't read if easily offended, blah, blah, blah. But, just this once, please bear with me and read this one.

Firstly, this is chapter five of ten and the story will only make sense if you read it from the start. If you haven't already done so then I sincerely urge you stop and go to chapter one. It will be better that way, honest.

Secondly, this is a work of fiction and all the characters are completely fictional. In particular, one of the main characters is Princess Charlotte who is, according to chapter one, "about tenth in line for the throne". Now, in real life, there can only be one person who holds that position but this story is not real life and it's definitely not about her. 

Princess Charlotte is not a real person and any resemblance is purely coincidental. Before I get carted off to live out what is left of the rest of my life in the Tower Of London, I want to stress that this story is set in a parallel universe where Britain has a very different Royal family with a very different line of succession.

Thirdly, briefly but importantly, my heartfelt thanks to all those who have helped so much. Especial mention must go, as ever, to OneWhoAdores, 'V' and MartiniMan for plot advice.

Fourthly, once again, I fall neatly between the BDSM and Lesbian Love categories. This story centres on a BDSM club and much of the action has a BDSM theme. However, it's a bit short on the whips and chains to really be a BDSM story. On the other hand those looking for a lesbian themed story may well end up complaining, as a critic once did, that my stories always seem to feature a D/s relationship. This one is no exception; its a lesbian love story with BDSM overtones. If this is not what you're looking for stop reading now. That's kinder than voting one star because it wasn't what you were after.

Lastly, this is a story of deception and subterfuge. Most of the characters have at least two names, many three or even four. To help the reader keep track each chapter will start with a dramatis personae. The list for this chapter is:-

*Andrea, a journalist, masquerading as Emma Pearson from Paarl.

*Tamsin, another journalist, masquerading as Emma Pearson's sub, puppy name Snookums

*Euthenia, a Domme along with Calliope, her sub, puppy name Poohbear

*Arete, a Domme along with Aergia, her sub, puppy name Noodles

*Princess Charlotte, a princess royal, club name, Despoina

Enjoy

******

"Ah, Despoina, what a delightful surprise!" Arete exclaimed, "I'm so glad you could get here after all. Let me introduce you to Emma, who's joined us all the way from Paarl in South Africa. Emma, meet Despoina, one of my oldest and dearest friends."

"Emma, so glad to meet you at last. Lady Mary has been talking of little else for the last few days. Your fame has spread quite a bit among the crowd," Despoina, or should that Princess Charlotte, said smiling broadly.

Andrea got up from her chair and shook Princess Charlotte by the hand. 

"I'm delighted to meet you as well, your.... It's so lovely to be making so many new friends," Andrea gushed and Tamsin could tell it was all she could do to stop herself from curtseying. Tamsin wasn't the only one who had spotted who this was.

"Despoina, can a pour you a glass of champers," Arete asked as she retrieved a champagne flute from the picnic hamper. From the fact that the glass was ready there waiting Tamsin guessed that Princess Charlotte's arrival wasn't entirely unexpected. Arete filled the glass and handed it over.

"Oh, you said you were going to try puppy play and here they are, here are the puppies. Aren't they just perfect!" Princess Charlotte continued, taking the glass from Arete and going over to where Noodles and Tamsin lay on the grass. "This one I already know but this one," she indicated Tamsin, "this one is new to me. Hello little puppy dog, whoever you are." She stood directly in front of Tamsin who looked up, their eyes met and, for a few moments, they just stared at each other. Then Princess Charlotte got down on her haunches and, as if drawn by the same thread, Tamsin got up on all fours. From behind the masks two sets of eyes stared at each other.

"Hello, puppy dog," Princess Charlotte said softly.

"Woof," Tamsin replied, equally softly.

Tamsin wondered what had come over her. The rest of the world seemed to have receded leaving her and Princess Charlotte alone together in some sort of bubble. What ever it was that she had been expecting when she finally met the princess it wasn't that she would be overwhelmed like this. She felt completely disconcerted and didn't know what to do or say. Oddly, it seemed that Princess Charlotte was equally tongue tied.

"That's Snookums, she's my puppy dog," Andrea's voice broke the spell, the bubble burst and, suddenly they were back on earth.

"Snookums, eh, well, you've certainly got a lovely puppy."

"We were just getting the puppies properly protected from the sun before we start playing with them," Arete cut in. "We decided that it would be more fun if we didn't stick strictly to the usual pairs and, seeing as how Emma has all but finished with Poohbear, perhaps you would like to apply the sunscreen to Snookums."

"Poohbear..., oh yes, of course, Poohbear," Princess Charlotte said. It was obvious that she hadn't heard the puppy names before and it took a moment or two for her to catch on. "Well, I'm not one to intrude uninvited with any one else's puppy but, as long as Emma has no objections, then I'd love to," Princess Charlotte continued

"No, no, be my guest," Andrea protested. "As Arete said, we're mix and matching and part of the fun is sharing."

"I think I'll wait until you've finished with Calliope... err... Poohbear before I start. That will give me a chance to settle down and have a drink." Princess Charlotte seemed to gather herself up before standing back up and turning to the Dommes. "Now, how is everybody?"

Princess Charlotte's arrival had completely changed the mood and Andrea was pretty quick to finish off applying the sunscreen to Poohbear who, once dismissed, returned to lie in the shade next to Noodles and Tamsin. Tamsin was expecting to be called almost immediately but Princess Charlotte was, by then, deep into telling a story about a mutual friend and, for a while, it was as if the puppies had been forgotten. Tamsin was actually enjoying herself. Once you got past the bizarre circumstances, not to mention the tail with its associated butt plug, it was a lovely afternoon for lying out all but naked on the grass and idly listening to another's conversation. Although she knew none of the participants the story was a good one and Princess Charlotte was quite the raconteur so she was far from bored.

But, even if the story hadn't been engrossing there was something about Princess Charlotte that held Tamsin's attention and she couldn't keep her eyes off her. She tried to keep it subtle but, here, in the flesh, Princess Charlotte was completely different from everything that she had been expecting. Whereas Lady Mary, and all of the others she had met so far, had, to some extent, displayed that upper class arrogance that irked Tamsin so much, Princess Charlotte, who, by their reckoning, outranked them all, came across as very down‑to‑earth and not in the least bit snobbish. But that didn't explain the fascination. For all that she didn't put on airs and graces, Princess Charlotte seemed to have a presence, there was no other word for it, and, as long as she was around, in Tamsin's eyes, everyone else was just background. She was dressed, as were the others, in a tweed skirt and jacket, the uniform of a puppy Mistress, but, unlike the others, she had the bearing for it as well. Tamsin had this urge to go over and rest her head in Princess Charlotte's lap but knew that this would just cause trouble.

At last, with the story drawing to a close, Princess Charlotte put down her champagne glass and picked up the Ambre Solaire.

"Right then, Snookums, it's time we got you sorted out," she said, turning sideways on to the table. Here girl, come here." She patted her lap.

Tamsin pushed herself up onto all fours and crawled over to face Princess Charlotte who then ordered her to 'sit'. She got into position and looked up. Again there was this connection and, when Princess Charlotte cradled Tamsin's face in her hands, Tamsin felt her flesh tingle. She tried to concentrate on the job in hand; she was here to unmask this woman, to take compromising photographs and write it all up for the front page of the Daily Sleaze. This was precisely when she should keep her eyes firmly fixed on the prize. However, right at that moment, what she wanted, what she really wanted, was to offer herself up, body and soul, and go wherever this feeling led them.

"Yes, she's, err, a very pretty puppy indeed," Princess Charlotte said. It would appear that Tamsin was not the only one affected and she also seemed flustered. However she pulled herself together and poured out a generous portion of Ambre Solaire onto her hand, put the bottle back on the table, turned back to Tamsin and started to smooth it across her back. She ordered Tamsin back onto all fours and she had to get off her chair and hunker down so as to reach all over. Unlike Andrea and Arete, she was very matter of fact about what she was doing. She wasn't interested in mere titillation; she was a puppy Mistress who wanted to give her puppy the required care for such a sunny day. Ironically, for Tamsin, this just made it more erotic. She was getting ever deeper into the role; it was all part of the game. A true Mistress looked after her puppy, cared for her; this was not sex play, it was love. As Princess Charlotte's hands smoothed the cream across Tamsin's breasts neither of them could fail to be aware of how hard her nipples were but, even so, they received no more attention than the rest of her body. 

By the time Princess Charlotte was working on Tamsin's backside and inner thighs, Tamsin was torn between a desire for this pampering to go on forever and the growing need for more direct stimulation. As Princess Charlotte's hand slid between her thighs, brushing gently against her sex, she let out little whines of frustration.

"Now, now, little puppy, settle down," Princess Charlotte said gently. "I don't want to have to smack you for misbehaving," and, to show what she meant, she smacked Tamsin's left buttock lightly, the cream on her hand and Tamsin's buttock making the smack crisp and tight. This just inflamed things more but Tamsin was quickly learning just what it meant to be cared for by a real puppy Mistress. The hand that spread the cream around her inner thighs was under Mistress's control, not hers, and it was not there for pleasure but to protect her from the sun. As a puppy Tamsin was free to revel in her most animal instincts but also, as a puppy, she also had to accept the controlling confines of what was permitted by her Mistress. Soon, far too soon, Princess Charlotte had finished with her thighs and was working on her calves and feet.

"There, that's you done," Princess Charlotte said as she got back up and sat down on her chair again. "Now, off you go and lie down quietly with the other puppies."

Thus dismissed Tamsin went back to the shady patch and lay back down next to the others. As she did so she glanced across at Calliope, or should that be Poohbear, who gave her an understanding smile. Tamsin wasn't the only one who had been left wanting; all three puppies had been well and truly teased and the afternoon was just beginning. Tamsin looked at the dog bowl that had been left there for her. It wasn't purely for show and was full of water. Supping directly from the bowl was a little awkward, and the nose of her mask dipped in the water, but it was cool and refreshing for all that.

"So, ladies, what's the plan?" Princess Charlotte asked as she put down the cloth she had used to wipe the excess Ambre Solaire from her hands.

"Well, I thought we'd start with a little show. Let each one of us put her puppy on display and demonstrate how well she's been trained. Meanwhile the others can act as judges giving marks for such things as grooming, deportment and obedience. Emma is a professional dog trainer which gives her an advantage but the rest of us have watched Crufts on the telly so we know the sort of thing that's expected. That should take us to lunch and, after that, well, I thought we might lay out an obstacle course or some such."

"Wow, Arete, that's all a bit organised," Euthenia joked. "When do we get time to play with the puppies?"

"If a thing's worth doing then it's worth doing properly and there will be plenty of time for play later," Arete replied with mock severity. "What do you think, Emma?"

"I'm just happy to fit in with everyone else," Andrea replied, "but I know my puppy would love to be shown and, as for the obstacle course, that sounds like just the thing."

"And what about you, Despoina? What are your feelings on the matter?"

Tamsin noticed how all eyes were on Princess Charlotte. Whilst, on the surface, they were all just "members of the club", it was quite obvious that they all seemed to feel that Princess Charlotte's status as a member of the royal family made her someone special, someone to be deferred to. Much as Tamsin was somewhat smitten by the thought of Princess Charlotte as a puppy mistress, she felt that her nobility was a matter of character, not an accident of birth. 

"I think that all sounds splendid and I'm sure we'll enjoy it immensely," Princess Charlotte replied, "but what about prizes? Have you thought of that?"

"Well, I haven't got rosettes or anything like that and, of course, the losing puppy is in for a smacked bottom but, seeing as how you're here, I'm sure the winner would love it if you would take them walkies?"

Tamsin was, quite frankly, amazed at such blatant kowtowing. 

"Well, if you really think they'd enjoy that," Princess Charlotte replied. "I'm not sure..." 

"Of course they would. Right, that's settled then," Arete said briskly. "As for choosing a winner, I thought we might let Despoina decide. After all, she's the only unbiased one here."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly," Princess Charlotte responded. "After all, as the one who will take the winner walkies, I can hardly be called unbiased. Hang on, I've got a better idea." She reached for her hand bag and pulled out a small notebook. She tore out a number of pages and, for a moment, was busy with a pen before handing the pieces of paper out. 

"OK, these are voting slips. On each slip you'll see a puppy's name and the letters 'G', 'D', and 'O'. After each puppy has finished you put your marks out of ten for grooming, deportment and obedience next to the relevant letter and, let's see," she reached down to the hamper and pulled out a spare bowl, "pop them into this so that, when we've finished, we can count them up and see who's the winner. You'll notice I'm the only one with three voting slips. No one gets to vote for their own puppy."

"That's fair," Arete conceded.

"This is all bit over the top, isn't it?" Euthenia said as she looked at the slips. "I thought this was supposed to be a bit of harmless fun."

"It is fun," Arete protested. "You're just making a fuss because you know your Poohbear has no chance of winning." 

"Winning, is that all you ever think about? It's been the same ever since we were at school together. I can remember when you were captain of lacrosse; you would always get stroppy when we lost."

"That was because every time we did lose it was because one of my star players was too busy flirting with the opposition instead of concentrating on the game. One glance of a gym slip used to send you weak at the knees; still does for all I know."

"I don't remember you being so very different. Now which one of us was caught in flagrante delecto whilst supposedly giving private coaching to Jenny McTavish? And there we all were thinking lacrosse wasn't supposed to be a contact sport!" 

"Ladies, ladies," Princess Charlotte cut in, although it was clear that this was good natured banter and part and parcel of their long-standing relationship. "Now, who wants to go first?"

"Emma should go first. After all she's the expert," Euthenia suggested.

"That's fine by me, well, as long as Arete doesn't mind," Andrea replied. Arete waved her hand in assent so Andrea stood up, took Tamsin's leash out of her pocket, went over and attached it to her collar. "Come along, Snookums, let's show the others what an obedient puppy you are. Heel!"

And suddenly all of the practice they had done back in the flat paid off. All the moves they had worked out, all the twists, all the turns, it all came together and they actually put on a pretty good show. Tamsin knew that she ought to be embarrassed cavorting around stark naked in front of these women but, hidden behind the mask, it wasn't her who was cavorting, it was puppy girl and puppy girl just loved the attention. And when ordered to 'play dead', lying on her back, arms and legs in the air like a dog, although she knew she was showing her all she felt no more embarrassment than a dog would. For a while she got lost in it all and it became almost like a dance routine. What also helped spur them on was that, in rather different ways, both were keen to impress Princess Charlotte and both were therefore putting their heart and soul into it. When, at last, they had finished and Tamsin, sweating and panting from all the exertion, was 'sitting' at Andrea's side they even earned themselves a smattering of applause.

"Oh, well done!" Arete enthused. "You have set the bar high. Hopefully that will spur us on. Now, Euthenia, would you like to go next or shall I?"

"I'm not sure if we'll be able to match Emma's display but we'll give it our best shot. Come along, Poohbear, it's show-time," Euthenia replied.

Andrea unclipped the leash again and Tamsin settled back down on the grass. The exercise had left her quite thirsty and she was happy to once again drink from the bowl that was provided for her. She drank deep and all but emptied the bowl. Almost immediately it was refilled and, when she looked up, Tamsin saw that it was Arete, rather than Andrea, who was the one doing the refilling. 

Meanwhile Euthenia and Poohbear were going through their paces. Despite Euthenia having shown such enthusiasm back at Lady Mary's house, it was obvious that they hadn't put in any practice in the meanwhile and puppy play was completely new to them. Indeed, most of their moves were clumsy copies of those Andrea and Tamsin had just demonstrated. Moreover it was clear to Tamsin that, for them, puppy play was a frivolity, an amusing sexual game, and not an end in itself.

It wasn't long before they had finished and it was the turn of Arete and Noodles. Here it was the other way around. Whereas Euthenia and Poohbear were treating puppy play as a light-hearted game Arete, and by extension Noodles, were taking the competition aspect far too seriously and were out to win at all costs. Tamsin could tell that they too had been practising but she felt that their seriousness was, in the end, their downfall. Euthenia and Poohbear had, at least, been fun and sexy, if rather uncoordinated and not very puppy like. Arete and Noodles were stiff and formal and, to Tamsin's mind, that missed the playful puppy element that was, for her, a central part. Still, she wasn't one of the judges so her thoughts were immaterial.

"Well, I thought all three puppies were splendid," Princess Charlotte said as, finished at last, Arete sat back down again and Noodles returned to her place on the grass. "So, do we want to know the scores on the doors," she continued as she took the bowl which was now full of the voting slips, "or shall we wait until after the obstacle course?"




Royal Flush Ch. 05



"Ooh, now please," Arete said immediately.

"Go on, let her see how much she's winning by," Euthenia conceded.

"What about you, Emma, you've been very quiet," Princess Charlotte said. "Do you want to know the scores?"

"It would be interesting to find out," Andrea conceded. 

Princess Charlotte sorted out the slips, looked in her handbag for her calculator and, after a few minutes work, turned to the others.

"Well, at the half way mark neither Poohbear nor Noodles are in the lead. That honour goes to Emma's Snookums. The average marks across all three judges and all three categories is Poohbear, seven point eight, Noodles, eight point one and Snookums, eight point seven. It's still all to play for but Emma's Snookums is definitely in the lead."

"It looks like your Poohbear is the one in for a smacked bottom then," Arete commented to Euthenia who came back with "it's not over 'till it's over. Now, what are we doing about lunch? I'm starving."

"Well, give me a hand with the hamper then." 

Euthenia and Arete dragged the hamper out from under the table and all four Dommes helped to lay the food out on the table. The range of salads, quiches, pies and cheeses was pretty impressive and the table was soon close to covered.

"What about the puppies?" Princess Charlotte queried as the hamper became all but empty. 

"Oh, I put some bowls in the bottom of the hamper and that container there," Arete said pointing at a Tupperware box, "contains puppy food. Would you be a dear and sort that out for me?"

Princess Charlotte reached down and fetched out the bowls. Then she opened the container and scooped out the contents, dividing it equally among the bowls. Tamsin was getting concerned; she had read online about those who fed their 'puppies' canned dog food and, having once done an exposé of the pet food industry, she knew only too well the sort of 'meat' that went into those tins and was less than keen to be forced to eat it. However, when the bowls were placed in front of the puppies what was in them, much to Tamsin's relief, was a pasta salad with a rich tomato based dressing. Arete took the water jug and refilled the water bowls before sitting back down and starting on her own lunch.

"What lovely weather!" Andrea enthused. "One of the things I miss most about Paarl is the weather. It was nigh on perfect, neither too hot nor too cold."

"Yes, we don't get too many opportunities for outdoor play here in Britain so we like to make the most of it while we can," Euthenia put in. "If this warm spell continues you can be sure that Artemis will be arranging some pony events. She'll have your little one all bridled up and pulling a sulky before you can say Jack Robinson."

"That sounds like it could be... interesting," Andrea replied. "And do you share ponies the same way that we're sharing puppies?"

"Oh yes, that's all part of the fun," Arete added. "I mean, our little parties are mostly about the social get togethers but getting the chance for a bit of playful variation adds that certain piquancy, don't you agree?"

"Well, it was a bit quiet in Paarl and there weren't too many people with whom we could share our interests but, from what I've seen so far, I couldn't agree more."

"That's one of the advantages of this garden. After we've finished the contest, should you wish to take any of the puppies for a walk, please feel free to do so. You'll find there are plenty of nooks and crannies where you won't be disturbed if you wish to get to know the puppies more intimately."

"That's so kind of you. And, of course, should any of you wish to take Snookums walkies, well, I hope you'll find she's a very agreeable puppy. At least she had better be."

This last comment caused a certain amount of laughter but, as Tamsin looked up at the Dommes she could see that both Euthenia and Arete were looking back at her with lust in their eyes.

"That quiche is divine," Princess Charlotte said, bringing the conversation back to the food. "I assume the salmon is wild."

"Oh, yes," Arete replied. Monty caught it himself up in Argyll. I can't stand that farmed stuff. It's just not the same."

And with that the conversation wandered off into other matters.

Whether it was deliberate or not, Tamsin found that the 'puppy food' was rather salty and, to compensate, she was repeatedly drinking from her water bowl. She leant forward to do so at the same time as Poohbear and this made her glance across. Their eyes met and they both smiled. There was an understanding between them of the underlying eroticism of what they were doing. Tamsin's sneaking suspicion that the puppy food was salty on purpose was reinforced by the way that Arete kept refilling the bowls and, by the end of the meal, she, and the other puppies, had all drunk quite a lot of water. If it was intentional then it was Poohbear who was the first victim. As Arete gathered up the bowls and wiped off their faces Poohbear looked up and whined.

"Oh, Poohbear!" Arete exclaimed, "do you need to go walkies?"

Poohbear barked once for yes.

"And what about you other puppies? Do you need walkies as well?"

Noodles barked her assent and, realising that she might be in trouble if she didn't take this opportunity to go, so did Tamsin. 

"Very well, then, I think I'll take all three of you together." Arete put the bowls down on the table and picked up the leashes that were lying there. She clipped each leash onto the relevant puppy and, holding them together in one hand, led them away from the table.

"Over here, by the quince tree. That will do. Now, be good girls, let's have you all nicely lined up." 

Arete manoeuvred the three puppies until they were side by side facing the table. Then she ordered them into the 'beg' position and, with their leashes hanging down behind them, they knelt up in line. However Arete, always the perfectionist, was far from happy. She straightened up the line, nudged their knees farther apart until they were touching those of their neighbour and arranged their forepaws so that they were all at the same level as their shoulders.

"There, don't they look pretty as a picture," Arete said as, satisfied at last, she stood back to have a look at the effect.

"Perfect," Euthenia agreed. "We ought to keep them like that."

"OK, puppies, you can do your business now."

Tamsin wondered if she had ever done anything as bizarre as be part of this chorus line of puppies urinating for the amusement of others and the answer came back a resounding 'no'. However, much as Tamsin, under normal circumstances, would have found it hard to be able to pee in front of others, this scenario played straight to puppy girl's exhibitionist streak and she thrust her hips forward and pushed her knees as wide as they would go. As a child her mother had, as an admonishment, called her a 'mucky pup' and surely this was exactly what she was now. The four Dommes looked on amused as, fuelled by the bowls of water, no mere trickle but three full torrents flowed flowed out onto the grass before them. There was an inevitable amount of splashing and the sun-baked ground was unable to soak up the puddles that resulted but, as the torrent turned to a trickle and the trickle died away, there was nothing that a few moments with an antiseptic wipe wouldn't clear away. 

"Oh, bravo!" Euthenia called out.

"Very pretty," was Andrea's contribution.

Although Princess Charlotte was silent Tamsin had noticed how she had watched intently and, for a fleeting moment, their eyes had met. As she returned to all fours and Arete reached for the baby wipes Tamsin wished that it were Princess Charlotte who was attending to her.

The three puppies were led back to the table but, with the meal now over, rather than returning to the shade they each went to their respective 'owner'. Tamsin knelt down next to Andrea in the 'sit' position.

"So, how about this obstacle course, then?" Euthenia asked. "I'm sure you're dying to show us how it's done. I'll bet a pound to a penny that you and Aergia... err... Noodles have been practising like crazy."

"As if we would," Arete joshed, "Look, there's quite a bit to fetch and carry. If you'll give me a hand, I've got it all hidden away in the summer house." 

"Can I help?" Andrea asked.

"No, no, we'll be fine, really," Arete replied. "Have some more champers before it gets too warm."

"I gather Euthenia and Arete have known each other quite a while," Andrea said to Princess Charlotte as the other two bustled off. 

"Oh, one way or another most of us have known each other since we were children. Lady Mary, for example, was head girl when I was just starting at boarding school. The original club was formed as a way of keeping in touch after we had left and, at first, you had to be an old girl before you would even be considered for membership but, as we all started to widen our social circles it seemed unfair to exclude some people's partners just because they went to a different school."

"So all this started back at school?" In her mind Andrea could already see the headlines.

"Well, not all of it. It was all a lot less... sophisticated back then, but the friendships, and some of the couples, yes, they go all the way back."

With a 'pop' Andrea's dream of the "Princess Royal in School Sex Scandal" headline disappeared. What's more, although they had finally met their quarry, so far her involvement was hardly newsworthy. Photos of the princess sitting demurely enjoying an al fresco meal were hardly going to rock Angus's boat, even if there were naked puppy girls in the background.

At that point Arete and Euthenia returned. Arete was pushing an overloaded wheelbarrow and Euthenia had her arms full of brightly painted wooden sticks. 

"What on earth have you got there?" Princess Charlotte asked with a laugh.

"Everything, including the kitchen sink," Euthenia said ruefully as she let her burden cascade to the ground.

"If a thing's worth doing...," Arete started. "I had a wander over to Emma Thornton's place over at Lower End Manor. She breeds Black Labs and judges at Crufts so she knows what she's talking about. Anyway, she showed me some of her training gear and, after that, I spent some time in the stables with some of the bits from the jumps and, well, here we are."

"Emma, my dear," Euthenia said with an air of weariness, "do you remember that annoying girl from girl guides, the one who knew all the knots, who passed all the badges, the one who took it all far too seriously? Well, here she is full grown. Arete, you're impossible."

"Well, someone has to take it seriously otherwise nothing would get done. We all know why you joined the girl guides. The only guiding you were interested in was guiding your way into Sue Farthingale's panties...."

"Didn't need much guiding there. She was hardly terra incognita and joining her Tufty club was a lot more fun than doing first aid badges."

"Really, you two, if you could just hear yourselves. Squabble, squabble, squabble. Now, are we going to get this course set up or not?" Once again it was Princess Charlotte who stepped in.

Even then there was a certain low level but good natured bickering as Arete and Euthenia, carefully avoiding the wet patch by the quince tree, worked together to lay out the obstacle course. Arete wanted everything just so while Euthenia was more interested in just getting on with things. This nearly came to a head when Arete asked Euthenia to drive a series of three foot high stakes into the ground for the puppies to weave in and out of and, when this was done, complained that they weren't in a perfectly straight row. 

However, for all the bickering, there was no malice and it wasn't long before the course was laid out. Arete had, quite clearly, put herself to some considerable trouble and even Euthenia appreciated this. Apart from the stakes there was a see-saw affair, a cloth tunnel and, as a jump was impractical, she had used some of the 'bricks' from the show jumping wall to construct a low bridge for the puppies to go under.

"So, who's going first this time," Euthenia asked.

"How about, as in show jumping, we start with the puppy with the lowest score," Princess Charlotte suggested. "That's your Poohbear first, followed by Arete's Noodles followed by Snookums."

All three Dommes agreed.

"OK then, if you're ready, off you go."

Euthenia led Poohbear to the start of the course and, on the way, plucked a bamboo cane from the flowerbeds where it had been supporting some gladioli. She used this to help guide Poohbear through the course. Calliope, in her role as Poohbear, wasn't particularly graceful and her generous breasts, whilst part and parcel of her feminine charms, didn't really go with puppy play. As she weaved her way in and out of the stakes they swung beneath her which rather ruined the effect. Euthenia, spurring her on with her enthusiastic use of the cane, didn't help much and, by the time she had finished the stakes, three of them were laying on the ground. As Euthenia negotiated the see-saw it was obvious that she was nervous and, when it teetered over as she passed the midway point she gave a very human cry of dismay. The cloth tunnel was pretty straightforward but, when she got to the bridge, she made a right muck of things. She was squeezing her way through when her hips touched and, after that, the stiff rubber tail caught and, before she knew it, the whole thing had collapsed around her.

"Well, the time's not too bad," Princess Charlotte said once she had finished laughing, "but three stakes knocked over and the bridge all down, that's eight faults if we're going by show jumping rules. Oh, and I'm not sure your puppy stayed completely in role as she went over the sea-saw so that's another demerit. Still, good try. Now, let's see how Arete does with Noodles."

Arete took the cane from Euthenia and used it to guide Noodles over to the start. As with earlier it was quite evident that they had been practising and that this was far from the first time Noodles had been through this course. Tamsin, possibly a shade biased, felt that, despite her skills through the obstacles, Noodles was a woman in puppy gear rather than a puppy girl. She didn't seem to have the spirit of the thing and there was no joy in what she was doing. After all, a real puppy would love nothing better than to show her Mistress how well she could negotiate the course; Noodles just seemed, like her Mistress, to be out to win for winning's sake.

And then, just when it was going so well and it looked as if Noodles would get a clear round, her tail, like Poohbear's before her, caught the top of the bridge and, although it didn't collapse, one brick tottered to the ground. Arete gave Noodles an exasperated look and was quite forceful with the cane as she led her back to the table.

"A superb time but four faults for the bridge," Princess Charlotte commented. "OK, Emma, it's your turn."

"Come along, Snookums, let's show them how it's done," Andrea said, standing up and leading Tamsin over to the start of the course. She unclipped the leash from Tamsin's collar, Princess Charlotte called out "Ready, steady, Go!" and Tamsin was off. Tamsin was quite fit and her slim, lithe figure was well suited to the course. Normally she rather hated her boyish shape, two fried eggs on an ironing board, as she saw it, but there was no doubt it came in handy for puppy play. In her heart she wanted to be the bouncy, exuberant puppy that she felt herself to be but, back in the real world, she was a human crawling on all fours so she was somewhat less graceful and agile. Still, she went through the stakes with no problems and, apart from a short pause as it tipped over, the see-saw was also easily negotiated. The cloth tunnel, whilst confusing to a real puppy, was nothing to a human one and that just left the bridge. She remembered how both Noodles and Poohbear had failed to get their hips down low enough but she was smaller, slimmer and ready to learn from their mistakes. Getting down as low as she could she wriggled through and, although the bridge did give a wobble, she managed to keep it intact.

"Oh, bravo!" Princess Charlotte called out. "Well done, Snookums, a clear round. Emma you must be very proud of her."

"Yes, well done, puppy," Andrea said but, noticeably, that was all. Tamsin felt that a true puppy Mistress would have given her puppy a bit of a cuddle for being so clever. Indeed, as she glanced around there was Poohbear knelt next to Euthenia who was holding her close and even Arete had Noodles's head in her lap and was stroking her. By comparison Andrea came across as cold and unfeeling. Tamsin couldn't help but glance at Princess Charlotte who had a thoughtful look on her face. She hoped that, now that they had finally made contact, Andrea wasn't, unwittingly, giving the game away. Andrea went back over to the table and sat down so Tamsin, to make it as real as possible, followed her over and laid her head in her 'Mistress's' lap. 

"Anyone for any more champers?" Arete asked.

"Not for me," Princess Charlotte replied. "I've got to drive home and two glasses is more than enough."

"What about you two," Arete asked, waving the bottle at Euthenia and Andrea. "Neither of you are driving."

"Well, just a small one. I don't want to get too squiffy," Andrea replied and Arete topped up her glass. 

"I guess it's pretty obvious which puppy was best in show," Princess Charlotte said. "Top in the puppy show and the only clear round in the obstacle course."

"Yes, Noodles and I might have to have a little discussion about coming second at some point," Arete said mock ruefully. "However, that's as maybe. I for one, have found the sight of our three puppy girls playing around to be most stimulating. We've had the puppy show, now it's time for the prizes. I seem to remember that the puppy who won first prize got to go walkies with Despoina but that's not the end of it. I'm sure we'd all like some time with the puppies. Emma, darling, that goes for you as well. Please feel free to spend some time with whichever puppy takes your fancy, or both for that matter."

"I might well do that but first," Andrea took Tamsin's leash, and put it in Tamsin's mouth. "Off you go, Snookums, go to Despoina, there's a good girl."

Tamsin knew that Andrea was encouraging her to go to Princess Charlotte so as to endear herself, so as to get closer, so as to find out the nitty-gritty. For Tamsin it was far more complex. The journalist side of her was, indeed, keen to get the story but that belonged to a more human aspect of her personality. Puppy girl wanted to get close to Princess Charlotte for far more carnal reasons. Whereas Arete was far too strict, Euthenia was far too frivolous and Andrea, quite frankly, hadn't got a clue, Princess Charlotte had, almost from the moment she had arrived, shown that quiet command, that mixture of control and compassion, that understanding that would make any puppy girl just want to beg to be played with. For the first time since they had been assigned to this story Tamsin was actually a willing participant and that made a huge difference. For once she didn't have to force a smile as she went over to Princess Charlotte, knelt up before her in the 'beg' position and lifted up her head to offer up her leash.

"Come along then, little puppy, let's see what the garden has to offer." Princess Charlotte stood up, took the leash from Tamsin's mouth, said "heel" and Tamsin went back to all fours and took her place at her new Mistress's side. 

"What a good girl you are, such a well trained puppy. Come along," and, with a gentle tug of the leash, Princess Charlotte led Tamsin off into the garden.

Princess Charlotte had been here before; she already knew her way around the twists and turns as the grass paths that weaved in and out of the richly planted beds. She led Tamsin towards a south facing wall and, more pertinently, towards an alcove in the middle of which was bench made of stone. As they approached Tamsin could see that the seat of was not stone but a soft cushion of closely planted fine thyme. Princess Charlotte sat down and the heavy scent of thyme filled the air. Tamsin knelt before her and looked up into her face.




Royal Flush Ch. 05



"You are the prettiest little puppy I have ever seen. If you were mine...," Princess Charlotte sighed. "Now, what would Snookums like to do?"

Tamsin didn't hesitate but reached down and took the hem of Princess Charlotte's skirt between her teeth and tugged it gently upwards.

"Do you want me to take my skirt off?"

"Woof!"

Princess Charlotte stood up, reached for the waistband of her skirt, undid the buttons, pushed down the zipper, slipped it to the ground and stepped out of it. She folded her it neatly and carefully draped it over the end of the bench. Tamsin could see that she was wearing stockings held up by suspenders hung from some sort of corset affair. She was also wearing lacy 'boy shorts' panties.

"And these?" Princess Charlotte asked, running her fingers across the front of her panties.

"Woof!" Tamsin barked again.

"Well, seeing as you ask so nicely." Princess Charlotte slid her panties to the ground, stepped out of them and placed them on her skirt. She sat down again with her knees pressed together. 

Tamsin knelt forward and kissed Princess Charlotte's knees. She tried to push them apart with her face but Princess Charlotte kept them tightly closed. In the end she looked up in frustration and whined just like a puppy. 

"Oh, my poor little Snookums," Princess Charlotte said gently. "Am I being mean and cruel?"

She eased her knees apart just far enough to let Tamsin start kissing the inside of her thigh. Tamsin's lips caressed the nylon of her stockings giving both of them an electric thrill. Slowly, step by step, Princess Charlotte opened up allowing Tamsin to get nearer and nearer to her ultimate goal. By mid thigh Tamsin had gained the top of the stockings and, by pushing a little more, Tamsin could reach out with her tongue and gently lick the exposed flesh. The strong scent of the thyme was now mixed with another, earthier scent and, for all her teasing, Tamsin knew that Princess Charlotte wanted this as much as she did. For a moment Tamsin stopped pushing, leant back and silently entreated Princess Charlotte.

"Oh, but you're such a pretty puppy!" Princess Charlotte exclaimed. "How could I possibly resist those gorgeous puppy dog eyes, and why on earth would I want to. Come, little puppy, do as you will."

Princess Charlotte leant back against the back of the bench and opened her legs wide. Tamsin could clearly see the dew of Princess Charlotte's arousal along the lips of her sex but, much as she longed to taste it, if Princess Charlotte could tease, then so too could puppy girl.

When Tamsin returned to her task she did not dive straight in but resumed pretty much where she had left off. There was plenty of unkissed flesh between the top of Princess Charlotte's stocking and the groove where her thigh met her groin and Tamsin was determined that each and every inch of it should be worshipped, revered, honoured, teased and tantalised. By the time she reached the neatly trimmed hair that covered and enhanced Princess Charlotte's pubic mound she could hear the groans and gasps that spoke of the effectiveness of what she was doing. And then, when her tongue reached out and prized open the waiting petals of Princess Charlotte's sex, she was rewarded by a gasped 'Oh, Yes!' She let the tip of her tongue search out the juices that flowed and, as it did so, it teased and titillated the folds of flesh that held those juices. From time to time her tongue would brush against that sensitive little button, the very centre of Princess Charlotte's pleasure, and each time Princess Charlotte would gasp with delight but, although that was the final destination, there was time yet to enjoy the journey.

Much as she had been determined to take her time, she couldn't put it off forever. Each time she found Princess Charlotte's clitoris she would linger a little longer, flick a little harder and, each time she felt Princess Charlotte respond a little more.

"Have a care, little puppy," Princess Charlotte muttered between clenched teeth as, once more, Tamsin moved on. "Don't tease too much. Only naughty little puppies tease too much and naughty puppies... oh, yes... naughty puppies... yes, like that... naughty... oohhh... naughty...!"

Almost as soon as Tamsin stopped teasing the first orgasmic wave crashed thorough Princess Charlotte's body. As the muscles in Princess Charlotte's thighs tensed enough to lift her up off the seat Tamsin kept up the steady flick, flick, flick of her tongue and it was only when Princess Charlotte started to calm back down that Tamsin, without for one moment, changing the rhythm she had settled into, allowed the intensity to relax back again.

But this relaxation was only a temporary respite. Tamsin gave Princess Charlotte a few moments to get her breath back before, once again, upping the pressure, pushing her once more up the slope towards the peak of ecstasy. There seemed to be some sort of link between them; Tamsin just knew what Princess Charlotte needed and, twice more Tamsin brought her to the crest, building and then receding as Princess Charlotte's passions built and receded. And then, as together they climbed towards the fourth, both knew this one was going to be a bit special. Princess Charlotte was, at this point, perched right on the edge of the seat so as to open herself up and allow Tamsin full access to where it mattered. Her legs were stretched wide before her as she leant back with her arms out either side for support. It was as if she were offering herself up to Tamsin's tongue, a gift Tamsin was only too glad to receive. As the climax approached Princess Charlotte's whole body tensed, her groin was thrust towards Tamsin's mouth and her backside rose up off the bench. Tamsin responded by pushing back as hard as she could, working with her tongue on the tender swollen flesh at the heart of Princess Charlotte's pleasure. 

"Yes... harder... please... please... yes... like that... oh god... oh god... oh god... oh yes... oh yes! Oh yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!" Completely abandoning herself to pleasure, Princess Charlotte cried out, uncaring about who might hear her. 

As Princess Charlotte crashed into her climax with a raw, animal cry of release Tamsin had to swallow hard as the evidence of the intensity of Princess Charlotte's orgasm flowed. Her whole body went rigid, every muscle taut as the explosion rocked within her. For five long heartbeats the only movement was the flick, flick, flick of Tamsin's tongue before Princess Charlotte could finally take no more. With little cries of 'enough' she gently pushed Tamsin away and collapsed back sobbing onto the bench emotionally and physically drained. If Tamsin had not been in role as a puppy she would have reached out and cosseted her lover but, in role, all she could do is look on and wait. Gradually Princess Charlotte's sobbing died down and she started to get her breath back.

"Oh, wow! That was...," she started, still somewhat overcome. "That was.... I've never.... How on earth...? Oh, puppy, oh, you clever little puppy, where on earth did you learn to do that? You've left me all in a tizzy." Princess Charlotte hid the intensity of her emotions behind the language of the nursery. She reached for the pocket of her jacket and retrieved a handkerchief which she used to wipe Tamsin's face before slipping from the bench onto the grass so as to kneel facing Tamsin. "You're a very clever puppy, a very clever puppy indeed," she said, reaching out and gathering Tamsin in. For a moment she just held her close before pulling back and looking Tamsin straight in the eye. For all that their masks covered their faces they did little to hide the roiling emotions going on between them and, for a second or two, Tamsin thought that Princess Charlotte was about to kiss her but, at the last moment she knelt back holding Tamsin gently by the shoulders.

"Mistress Emma is a very lucky woman, do you know that?" Princess Charlotte said. "Very lucky indeed. Now, fair's fair. You've been such a good little puppy it's only right that you should get a reward." She reached down and placed her hand so that the tips of her fingers were right over the top of Tamsin's sex lips. "Is this what you want?" She moved her fingers in slow circles around Tamsin's sex. Tamsin couldn't reply directly, she wasn't allowed to talk and a 'woof' didn't seem to fit the bill, so she just opened her knees wider. There eyes met and there was more than a trace of awkwardness. Both realised that this was more than mere mechanical sex, that there was a very real connection between them but both knew that as Tamsin was, officially, Emma's puppy, this was a connection that had to be denied. Indeed, Princess Charlotte's stroking was tentative, cautious, as if she were scared to overstep some sort of line.

And then, as if on cue, Andrea saved the day. In the quiet of the garden they could hear another voice coming from one of the other alcoves. At first you couldn't make out the words but, with the rising tempo they grew louder and clearer until they heard Andrea cry out "Oh my god! Oh my god! Yes! Yes!" Although she was several yards away Andrea's orgasm was clear for all to hear.

"That sounds like your Mistress Emma," Princess Charlotte said with a smile. "I gather she's having fun. Mind you, I guess I was just as loud. Oh, to hell with it, come here."

Princess Charlotte moved so that their knees were interlocking and with a bit of jiggling, arranged them so that Tamsin's groin was resting against her knee. She then pulled Tamsin closer and hugged her tight.

"Now that your Mistress has come it's definitely your turn." Princess Charlotte flexed her thigh muscles so that her knee moved against Tamsin's groin. "Does this feel good, is this what you want, little puppy?"

Tamsin pushed back, rubbing herself shamelessly against Princess Charlotte's knee and, all the while, Princess Charlotte reached in between them and held Tamsin's breasts, playing with her nipples. Tamsin had been pretty much turned on for quite a while now and it wasn't long before she could feel her climax approaching. 

"That's it, good puppy, come for me, come for Mistress Despoina, come, now, come!"

Tamsin couldn't help it. It wasn't very puppy like but she flung her arms around Princess Charlotte's neck and hung on as wave after wave of pleasure flowed through her. She was hardly moving but she didn't need to. The sheer pressure of the knee between her thighs was enough. Whilst her orgasm wasn't as vocal as Princess Charlotte's, or Andrea's for that matter, it didn't lack in intensity and, hanging by her arms from Princess Charlotte's neck, her whole body shuddered as the wave broke within her.

For a while Princess Charlotte let her just hang there and, with their bodies locked together, they shared a moment of peaceful serenity, there in the beauty of the garden. Even when she had recovered from her orgasm Tamsin was reluctant to move. She wanted just to stay there, basking in the post orgasmic glow. In the end it was Princess Charlotte who reached up and took Tamsin's arms from around her neck.

"I think it's about time we were returning to the others. Yes, I know, I wish we could stay here forever as well but we can't. Now, you wait there while I get dressed." 

Princess Charlotte stood up and turned to the bench. She picked up her panties and stepped into them, Tamsin watching intently as she pulled them up her shapely thighs. Then she put her skirt back on and, suddenly, in her two piece tweed outfit and crisp white blouse, she was the prim and proper puppy Mistress again.

"Come along," she said as she took the end of Tamsin's leash. "Let's rejoin the others."

When they got back to the picnic table it was noticeable that Euthenia and Noodles were missing. Poohbear was lying on the grass while Andrea and Arete chatted at the table.

"You were a while," Arete joked.

"I do hope that Snookums was satisfactory," Andrea added.

"Oh, she was fine, just fine," Princess Charlotte replied. "Most satisfactory."

"And what about you," Andrea asked Arete, "would you like to take Snookums for a little walk."

"I don't mind if I do. In fact I've rather been looking forward to doing so. We shan't be long."

"Oh, take as long as you like, please, be my guest," Andrea said effusively.

"Let the poor thing have a drink first," Princess Charlotte said. "After all, I used her pretty hard."

"So we heard," Arete laughed but she did let Princess Charlotte lead Tamsin over to the water bowls where she drank her fill. While she did so Arete came over and took the leash from Princess Charlotte.

"OK, that's enough, walkies!" Arete ordered and, with a tug on the leash, she took Tamsin back into the garden. After a bit of weaving in and out of the various beds they arrived at an alcove pretty similar to the one Princess Charlotte had used. The biggest difference was that, instead of the thyme bench, there was what can best be described as a throne made of carved granite. She ordered Tamsin to sit, looped the end of her leash over a part of the throne and started to undress as if it were absolutely normal, which, of course, in a way, it was. Like Princess Charlotte she removed her skirt and carefully folded it over the back of the throne. Her panties followed in short order and then she unhooked the leash and sat down.

"Very well, Snookums, you know what to do," she ordered, shifting her position so that she was sat on the edge of the seat and stretching out her legs in front of her. She tugged on the leash to pull Tamsin in and guided her head straight between her thighs with no thought of foreplay. Tamsin got the message and set to in an almost mechanical fashion. Arete didn't want subtlety or sensuousness, she wanted a well behaved puppy who would do her bidding and get straight down to work. From time to time, Arete would reinforce this dominance by ordering Tamsin to go faster or harder, or to change position slightly. It was as if Tamsin were to have no say in what she did or how she did it which, Tamsin felt, reduced her from an active participant to little more than a sex toy but, it appeared, that was what Arete required. It certainly seemed to be working.

For, although, on the outside, Arete was all self control, she couldn't completely hide the effect Tamsin's tongue was having on her. Whilst she was never going to cry out, little sighs or grunts would escape as the sexual tension rose. 

"Yes, yes, like that," she said tersely, "keep it like that, just like that, and, if you stop now I'll thrash that backside of yours so hard you won't... you won't... you won't sit... sit... sit... oh yes... oh yes... oh yesssss!" The last syllable was hissed out like steam escaping from an over-stressed boiler. "Ooohhhh... yessssss! Yesssss! Yesssss! .... Enough, enough!"

Arete pushed Tamsin away and, as Tamsin knelt up and watched, Arete leant back in the throne and savoured the sensations that were flowing through her. Their sex, it could hardly be called love making, may have been cold and mechanical but it was obviously exactly what Arete had wanted and, although there were few outward signs of the intensity of it all, the glistening dampness between her thighs spoke volumes. 

And then, almost like flicking a switch, Arete was back to normal. As with Princess Charlotte, she reached for her jacket pocket and pulled out a handkerchief so as to wipe herself down. Then she stood up and, with only a slight unsteadiness on her feet betraying the orgasm she had so recently experienced, put her panties and skirt back on.

"Not bad, Snookums, she said as she took hold of Tamsin's leash and set off back to the others. "With a little training you could become quite proficient."

'Well, fuck you, bitch,' Tamsin thought to herself. She wasn't fooled. Arete had been more than adequately serviced and this put down was just about trying to reassert her dominance. 

When they got back to the table all the others were there chatting. 

"Arete, my dear," Euthenia said as they approached. "I hate to be a party pooper, especially as I was hoping to have some time with Snookums, but the day has just gone so fast and I have to get back to town. People to see, things to do, you know how it is."

"So soon, well, if you must, you must," Arete replied. "I suppose you'll be taking Emma and Snookums with you. What a bore! Despoina, please tell me you don't have to leave as well. I do hope you, at least, can stay for a little while longer. Perhaps you might dine with me tonight."

"That would be lovely," Princess Charlotte replied. 

"In which case...," Euthenia started as she stood up from the table, "if you don't mind..."

And, with that, they all headed back towards the stables. Euthenia and Poohbear disappeared for a while only to reappear with Calliope back in her chauffeur's uniform and, with that transformation in place it was time to get in the car and leave.

"I have enjoyed myself," Euthenia said as they headed south down the M1, "even if I didn't have time for a turn with Snookums. Well, we'll have to save that little treat up for next time, won't we? Maybe get some pony play in with Artemis and Hipperia. See if this one is as good pulling a sulky as she is as a puppy."

"Oh, I do hope so," Andrea replied.

From her place knelt on the floor of the car Tamsin, viewed things rather differently. She'd spent the day being a puppy, now they were talking about ponies. She already knew what the riding crop felt like and wasn't keen to repeat the experience. Mind you, it did depend on who was there. Much as the thought of being used, and there was no other word for it, by Euthenia or Artemis was repellent, the thought of a certain princess in tight fitting jodhpurs.... What was it about the woman that was so alluring. Was it a simple matter of who she was? No, that had nothing to do with it. She was, quite simply, different.

And, in almost no time at all, Euthenia was dropping them off in Mayfair and, after a quick scuttle to the front door, they were inside and getting changed.

"We did it!" Andrea enthused. "Wait until we tell Angus. That will stop him fussing over the budget. So, what was she like?"

"How do you mean?"

"When she took you for 'walkies', what was she like?" Andrea asked again as if Tamsin were being dense.

"It was... it was...," Tamsin stuttered. How could she answer? "Look, it's hard enough being the submissive in this little charade without having to disclose every single detail."

"But... but... but you've just had sex with a member of the royal family, for Pete's sake. What was it like?"

"It was just another indignity I was put through in order that we might get this story," Tamsin replied. "Now leave it alone."

"OK, OK, don't bit my head off. It looked like you were quite enjoying some of it."

"Just leave it alone," Tamsin repeated.

That night, as Tamsin lay in her bed, and thought over the day, she reached for her backside which still felt stretched and full, albeit that it was now several hours since the plug had been removed. However, the butt plug wasn't the only lingering memory of that afternoon. 

She was a journalist. That was what defined her, that was what was important to her, and uncovering the facts that others wished kept secret was part and parcel of her job. However, this story was different from the rest. The people she was working to expose weren't exactly wrongdoers and the public's interest was going to be purely lascivious, a desire to see the "high and mighty" caught with their knickers down. And, when it came down to it, was what these women were doing so very wicked? No one was getting hurt, well beyond the occasional smacked bottom. There was nothing that wasn't entirely between consenting adults in private. Did they really deserve the opprobrium that would soon be heaped upon them just for the sake of selling a few newspapers. For all that Tamsin had sometimes been shocked by their snobbery and some of their attitudes they weren't bad people, not when you got down to it.




Royal Flush Ch. 05



And then, at the centre of these thoughts, was Princess Charlotte. She was the one with most to lose, the one with the highest profile, the one who would be hurt the most. Only two weeks ago Tamsin would have delighted in bringing down a member of the royal family but now, now that she had actually met one, now that she knew exactly who her victim would be....

And that's where it got really complicated. She had called what had happened that afternoon 'just another indignity' but she had lied and she knew it. There had been some sort of connection between her and Princess Charlotte, she just knew that there had been, but that was crazy. After all, apart from the puppy play, they hadn't even spoken to each other. And this thrill, the one she couldn't deny, the one she felt every time she thought of the princess, was there something in it or had she just become the sort of mindless royal groupie she so despised; the sort that thronged the streets every time another wedding rolled around, the sort who had cried at the recent royal funeral. And what about Princess Charlotte, what were her feelings? What did Tamsin mean to her? Was she just another plaything in their sexual merry-go-round, another submissive to be used and forgotten, at best a fleeting memory of a pleasant afternoon. Tamsin had been sure that that there was something between them, that it wasn't all one sided, but was that real or just wishful thinking?

With a sigh Tamsin rolled over and tried to push these thoughts away but her troubled conscious wasn't going to let her sleep for a while yet.



Royal Flush Ch. 06



****** Please Read This First *******

I know, I know, I usually don't bother with the disclaimer bits either. Blah, blah, blah, over 18, blah, blah, blah, don't read if easily offended, blah, blah, blah. But, just this once, please bear with me and read this one.

Firstly, this is chapter six of ten and the story will only make sense if you read it from the start. If you haven't already done so then I sincerely urge you stop and go to chapter one. It will be better that way, honest.

Secondly, this is a work of fiction and all the characters are completely fictional. In particular, one of the main characters is Princess Charlotte who is, according to chapter one, "about tenth in line for the throne". Now, in real life, there can only be one person who holds that position but this story is not real life and it's definitely not about her. 

Princess Charlotte is not a real person and any resemblance is purely coincidental. Before I get carted off to live out what is left of the rest of my life in the Tower Of London, I want to stress that this story is set in a parallel universe where Britain has a very different Royal family with a very different line of succession.

Thirdly, briefly but importantly, my heartfelt thanks to all those who have helped so much. Especial mention must go, as ever, to OneWhoAdores, 'V' and MartiniMan for help along the way.

Fourthly, once again, I fall neatly between the BDSM and Lesbian Love categories. This story centres on a BDSM club and much of the action has a BDSM theme. However, it's a bit short on the whips and chains to really be a BDSM story. On the other hand those looking for a lesbian themed story may well end up complaining, as a critic once did, that my stories always seem to feature a D/s relationship. This one is no exception; its a lesbian love story with BDSM overtones. If this is not what you're looking for stop reading now. That's kinder than voting one star because it wasn't what you were after.

Lastly, this is a story of deception and subterfuge. Most of the characters have at least two names, many three or even four. To help the reader keep track each chapter will start with a dramatis personae. The list for this chapter is:-

*Andrea, a journalist, masquerading as Emma Pearson from Paarl, club name Pheme
*Tamsin, another journalist, masquerading as Emma Pearson's sub, Susan Ward, club name Alethia
*Angus, Editor of the Daily Sleaze, a London based tabloid newspaper.
*Lady Mary, a lady, club name Voluptua.
*Popsy, her maid and chauffeur, club name Odyne.
*Euthenia, a Domme along with her sub Calliope.
*Chelone, a Domme along with her sub, Thalia.
*Epione, a Domme.
*Tyche, a Domme, nicknamed 'grumpy' by her sub, Mida.
*Otrera, a Domme.
*Various other 'goddesses' and their attendant handmaidens.

Enjoy

******

"This is much better," Angus commented as he read through Andrea and Tamsin's notes on their trip to Bedfordshire. "At last you've actually met Princess Charlotte. That's not bad for, what, only your third meeting. What's more it confirms that my source was right all along and this isn't a wild goose chase."

"You mean you weren't sure!" Andrea protested. "We went through all that on the off chance...."

"It was more than an 'off chance'. I wouldn't have poured all those expenses in on an 'off chance' but no, it wasn't a given. After all, if it was a given then I wouldn't have needed to send in a couple of greenhorns like you, would I?" Angus snapped back. 

For a while Angus flicked back and forth through the report while Andrea and Tamsin waited in silence.

"So Princess Charlotte, she's a dominatrix, is she?" Angus continued when he finally put the report down. "All whips and chains and tight black leather, that sort of thing, is it?"

"It's not quite as simple as that but, yeah, that's the basics," Andrea replied.

"Well, stick to the basics; make it simple," Angus snapped back. "Our readers don't do complicated. 'Whip Wielding Princess Royal in Lesbian Sex Scandal', that's the headline we're looking for, not some lefty sociological analysis. She's a dominatrix and that's how we're writing it. As far as our readers go that means whips and chains and tight leather outfits and we'll confuse them if we write anything else. Which brings us to the big question, what sort of kinky stuff was she wearing? I do hope you got photos. I told you, right from the start, no photos, no story. Please tell me even a pair of greenhorns like you got photos."

"Yes, I got some photos. I've downloaded them onto my laptop," Andrea replied as she reached down for her laptop case which was on the floor beside her.

"Oh, my god, photos," Tamsin groaned. She had forgotten that Andrea had been equipped with a hidden camera. "I hope I don't appear in any of them."

"What's that groan all about? Of course I took photos. That's what we were there for. And, naturally, you happen to feature in quite a few of them. You were there, you were part of it and that's the way the cookie crumbles," Andrea said as she opened up her laptop and put it on Angus's desk. "Before I start let me state that I'm still a beginner with this hidden camera lark and these aren't quite as good as I was hoping for. I haven't quite got the hang of it yet so there are a lot of ruined shots but next time... well, lets see what I did get." She clicked on the touch pad and, after a few moments, a gallery of photos appeared. As she scrolled though the thumbnails they could see that the vast majority were blurred or obscured but there were more than enough that had come out quite well. 

"What's that one," Angus asked, pointing at one of the better ones. "Show that full screen."

Andrea double clicked on the touchpad and, as clear as day, there, on the screen of her laptop, were the three puppy girls, up on their knees in the beg position while the urine streamed from between their thighs.

"You can't print that!" Tamsin all but screamed.

"No, we can't," Angus agreed after some consideration. "We're a family newspaper and, more to the point," he studied the photo carefully, "none of these women are the princess. It's pretty kinky stuff, though, maybe with a few suitably positioned black blobs there is something there we might use. Get one like that with the princess involved and we'll definitely see what we can do." Angus gave the photo a long hard look. "That one there, the one on the right, is that...?"

"Yes, OK, that's me," Tamsin said bitterly. "Maybe you can now appreciate just what I'm having to do for this story."

"Kinky, very kinky. I didn't know you were into that sort of thing," Angus said turning the laptop towards him for another look. "And this is what goes on at these meetings, is it? Synchronised pissing?"

"I am not into that sort of thing!" Tamsin all but screamed. "I only did it because I had to or we'd have blown our cover. As to whether it's the sort of thing that goes on, well, yes, pretty much so. Maybe now you'll appreciate just what I'm being put through. I suppose I ought to be grateful that, on this occasion, I didn't get my backside beaten."

Angus gave her a look as one might give a child throwing a tantrum before turning back to stare at the screen. Tamsin had never felt so open and vulnerable. Then, with an audible sigh, he closed the picture and continued searching through the thumbnails.

"But I don't see any pictures of Princess Charlotte," Angus protested after a while.

"Here, let me," Andrea turned the laptop back and, after flicking through a few pages, turned the screen back again.

Tamsin, fearing the worst, looked at the photo Andrea had picked out. It showed Princess Charlotte walking towards the camera and, beside her, on all fours, was Tamsin as her puppy girl.

"Hmm... that's not too bad," Angus commented. "But you can't really tell that it's her. What's more, she's not in the kinky gear and you can't even be sure that the girl on the end of the leash is naked. It's a shame about those damn masks. As it stands it's just a photo of an anonymous woman wearing normal clothes who happens to have a woman on the end of a leash who is wearing a dog mask. It could just be some sort of bizarre fancy dress party. We might be able to use this but not as the main hook for the story. We'll need far better than that before we go to print. We have to have at least one photo where," Angus ticked off the points on his fingers, "it's unmistakeably the princess, so no masks or any similar nonsense; she needs to be dressed in kinky gear, not a twinset and pearls, and I want other people involved. Do you think you can manage that?"

"It's not going to be easy," Andrea started.

"I'm not paying for easy, I'm paying for the story of the decade. So, what's next?"

"Well, once again, the ball is in their court. Euthenia, we're pretty sure we've pinned her down as Lady Barbara Abercrombie, she seemed pretty keen for us to meet again and was chatting about it all the way back to London, but, even so, we really can't afford to be pushy."

"Hmm... I suppose you have a point. However, I'm not paying you to sit around on those pretty little arses of yours so what are you going to do in the meanwhile."

"We've still got plenty of research to do. I'd like to be back at the flat in case Lady Mary or any of the others want to pop by so I thought that Tamsin and I could work from there."

"OK," Angus said reluctantly, "there are no other immediate bookings for the flat but don't push it. I want to see some results."

In fact they had to wait four whole days before they had any response. Angus was, by this time, beside himself with impatience and pushing them to get in touch with Lady Mary. Andrea, on the other hand, was just as adamant in insisting that Lady Mary had to make the next move. Fortunately, just as Angus's patience was reaching the end of its tether, the morning post brought an envelope flopping down onto the door mat. Tamsin got up from where they were working in the kitchen and went to the front door to pick it up.

"We're on," she remarked to Andrea once she had opened it up and read what was inside.

"Really? Let's have a butcher's."

Tamsin passed the card over.

"Pheme, and her handmaiden, Alethia, are cordially invited to attend the next meeting of the Sisterhood of Hellenic Goddesses," was printed in embossed gold on one side of the card. On the other, in Lady Mary's handwriting, was "Emma, darling, can you make the fifteenth? Give me a call and we'll sort things out."

Almost immediately Andrea was on the phone to Angus. 

"I told you it was worth waiting," she crowed. "We've been invited to join their little club. Lady Mary wants us to go to a meeting on the fifteenth."

"The fifteenth? Day after tomorrow? That's another day with you two sitting around doing nothing," Angus moaned. "Well, at least you're making progress. Have you got in touch yet?"

"No, I thought I'd tell you first. We only got the card five minutes ago," Andrea replied.

"Well, call the bitch up and tell her you're accepting and then get back to me. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" Andrea replied, her voice full of irony.

"Don't push it, sunshine, don't push it," Angus replied and the line went dead.

As soon as she had put the phone down Andrea was busy dialling Lady Mary's number. "Ah, Lady Mary," she said once she had got through, "I just got your card. I must admit I'm slightly overwhelmed by how much you and your friends have made us welcome."

"Nonsense, my dear. The club has been getting slightly stale recently and you and that pretty little maid of yours are like a breath of fresh air. It's just lovely to have someone new joining us."

"Well, I'm honoured. I'm also really excited about this Sisterhood of Hellenic Goddesses. Please, tell me more."

"It's not that much more than you've already seen. It's a little club we put together when we were all back at school together, just a bit of fun, really. Of course, in those days, it was a lot more innocent, silly japes in the dorms and all that. Once we all started to go our separate ways we decided to carry on the club as a way of keeping in touch and, over time, the games have become a bit less innocent. Mostly we just meet up in small groups, well, you already know that, but every now and again we have a full meeting and that's a lot more formal."

"What makes it Hellenic?"

"That dates back to school as well. You know what it's like at that age; secret societies with silly names. When we first started we just happened to be studying the Greek myths so we decided to use the names of the Goddesses as club names. That, plus the masks, gives it that air of mystery. Silly really but it's become a bit of a tradition with us and we all seem to like it that way."

"I don't think it sounds silly. I think it sounds rather fun. We had the same sort of thing when I was at school. So, if it's Hellenic should I wear a... what was it that you had on the other day?"

"A peplos, yes, but, err...," Lady Mary sounded uncharacteristically unsure of herself. "You don't need to bring one. You'll be presented with one after your initiation ceremony."

"Initiation ceremony? That sounds ominous. Tell me more."

"I'd like to but... I don't want to spoil the surprise. Again, the idea dates back to our school days, although, as I said, it was all a lot more innocent back then. Nowadays, well, it's grown into a tradition, it's a bit of fun and, seeing as we've all been through it then it's only fair that any new members should...."

"Suffer the same fate," Andrea finished off for Lady Mary. 

"Something like that," Lady Mary confessed.

"So, what should I wear?" Andrea asked.

"It is a club night so you don't want to be too plain. Something with a bit of... zing. That leather outfit you wore last time would do fine." 

"And what about my maid? What should she wear?"

"Much as I think she looks delightful in that French maid's outfit she wore last time and Euthenia has been raving about how pretty she was as a puppy, you have to bear in mind that on this occasion she'll be acting as the handmaiden to a Greek goddess so the simple answer is 'not very much'. Beyond that, well, use your imagination." 

"I most certainly will."

"Oh, and one last point," Lady Mary continued, "it's really best if you spend the night. It's not as if I haven't got plenty of room and that way, if anyone has a drink or two, then there's no problems with having to get you back to London. Furthermore, if there's any... umm... musical beds then there's plenty of time to sort it all out over breakfast. How does that sound."

"Splendid!" Andrea replied. "You have got this well organised. I can tell you've done this before."

"Once or twice," Lady Mary replied with a laugh. "Now, as to your getting here, Shall I send Popsy to fetch you, just as I did last time? Would that suit? Mind you, you had best get used to calling her Odyne as that's her club name. If I send her to pick you up around seven, would that be OK?"

"That sounds perfect and it's so kind of you to offer. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to this. I'll see you the day after tomorrow then," and, with that the conversation ended.

So it was that, two days later, Andrea and Tamsin were being driven down to Lady Mary's house by Popsy. Once again Tamsin was sat in the front but at least this time she was decently dressed. Indeed, Andrea had insisted that they both needed new outfits for this trip. As she pointed out to Angus, arriving at Lady Mary's house wearing the tweed would be far too gauche and, as an impoverished reporter, non of her own clothes would pass muster. She went on to say that they would actually need two outfits, one to arrive in and one to go home in although the latter could be somewhat less formal.

Once they had gained Angus's grudging assent they had headed for the West End and, in particular, Bond Street. Andrea had ended up with a pant suit in white linen and, having done so, she insisted that it was imperative that she completely accessorise. The saleswoman was practically drooling at the thought of the commission she was getting as Andrea added a belt, a hand bag, shoes and underwear to the growing pile of purchases. This was followed by slacks and a silk blouse in ivory, again with a complete set of accessories.

"Don't worry," Andrea laughed as Tamsin gasped at the price tags. "By the time Angus sees the expense claims we'll have landed the story of the year and he'll be so grateful he'll sign anything. Now, let's get you sorted out."

Sorting Tamsin out meant, in Andrea's eyes, choosing her a light, mid thigh, sundress with quite a bold floral pattern in pale blue. Again Tamsin found it hard to believe the prices they were charging; she hadn't realised it was possible to spend over five hundred pounds on a sun dress. What's more, when she had tried it on it had turned out to be shorter than she had thought and was barely decent. However Andrea enthused over it and it wasn't worth making a fuss about. To accompany this Andrea had insisted on buying her a pair of strappy sandals with three inch heels but, and Tamsin wasn't surprised at this, that was the full extent of the accessories she was allowed.

It was only as they made their way back to the flat that Tamsin realised just how much she had, once again, let Andrea take command. It shouldn't have been Andrea's decision as to which dress she would buy or which shoes would accompany it. These should be joint decisions. However, as ever, she couldn't be bothered to rock the boat by making a fuss.

And now, sat in the front of Lady Mary's car, wearing the sundress, the sandals, cuffs on her wrists and ankles and her chromed steel collar, she once again wondered what she was letting herself in for. 

At last they arrived at Lady Mary's house. The car swept to a halt outside the front door and, before Popsy had had time to get out and open the passenger door Lady Mary appeared at the front door and swept down the steps at the front of the house. She was wearing her peplos, the cut of which owed more to fevered imagination than strict adherence to Greek antiquity.

"Emma, my dear," Lady Mary boomed out as Andrea stepped out of the car. "Do come on inside. We're all dying to meet you."

Lady Mary led Andrea into the house and Tamsin, on Popsy's instructions, took the luggage from the boot of the car and followed them in. As they crossed the hallway they heard the sounds of the party that was going on and a woman they had not met before went past carrying a tray of canapés. Tamsin did a double take as it came home to her that, in a short while, she too would be, like that woman, a slave dressed in nothing but high heeled shoes and a collar. The 'slave' went through a door from which came the hubbub of several people talking but Lady Mary led them straight past, up the main staircase and along a corridor.

"I've kept the Blue Room for you," Lady Mary commented. "I do hope you'll find it comfortable. Here, let me."

She opened on of the doors and gestured Andrea into one of the rooms. She then followed Andrea in with Tamsin trailing along behind. The room was vast, at least twenty feet square with a king sized four poster in pride of place. As Tamsin put the bags down and started to unpack, Lady Mary showed Andrea the chest of drawers already stocked with a selection of cuffs, chains, paddles and crops; indeed, there was everything there a Domme could possibly need.

"Now, I know you're going to need a few minutes to freshen up and get changed. Do you mind if I stay and chat while you do?"

"No, not in the slightest," Andrea replied although Tamsin could tell that this was not in the plan. 

"For heaven's sake," Andrea turned to Tamsin, "haven't you finished putting that stuff away and why are you still wearing your dress in the house?"




Royal Flush Ch. 06



"I'm sorry, Miss," Tamsin replied as she reached for the dress and started to take it off.

"If you don't get a move on you will be sorry," Andrea replied. "Still, we haven't got time for that now. Get that dress off and bring me the holdall."

Tamsin shrugged off the dress and quickly hung it in the wardrobe before bringing the leather holdall over to the bed where Andrea was standing. Andrea rummaged about inside and, to Tamsin's consternation, fetched out the tail along with its harness.

"I know this isn't exactly a puppy show and she's here as my handmaiden, not my puppy but I decided to bring her her tail along anyway. I thought it might amuse you to have her wearing it," Andrea said as she stroked the fur of the tail. "Of course, the harness can be used without the tail. Which would you suggest: the tail, the harness alone, or neither?"

"Oh, the tail! That would be delightful! I so missed seeing her wear it last time you were here and when I couldn't make the puppy show, well I was simply devastated," Lady Mary gushed.

"Perhaps you would care to help me fit it?"

"Why certainly," Lady Mary replied. She came over and took the harness from Andrea and looked it over. "Where do I start?"

"The first thing to do is to prepare her backside. There's a tube if lubricant in the holdall. One moment...," Andrea searched in the holdall and pulled it out. "Do you want me to...?"

"No, no! You carry on getting changed. Let me do this, please." Lady Mary turned to Tamsin. "Come here girl. Bend over the bed. You know what to do."

With an internal sigh but an external smile, Tamsin bent over the end of the bed and put her hands flat on the mattress. Lady Mary ordered her to move her legs further apart and reinforced this with a quick slap to the thighs. Then there was the cool feeling of the lubricant gel being squeezed from the tube directly into the crack of her buttocks before she felt Lady Mary's finger pushing inside her.

While Tamsin was grateful that lube was being used and, certainly, she had more sense than to complain, it would seem that, once again, her backside held some sort of weird fascination for Lady Mary who was taking delight in seeing how far she could push her finger up inside. For what seemed like ages Tamsin had to endure Lady Mary's poking and probing until, at last she had had enough. She removed her finger, wiped it off with a tissue from the bedside table and, with a little bit of guidance from Andrea, started to fit the tail. Possibly because of the amount of lube and possibly because Tamsin's backside was getting a little stretched, this time the plug slipped in quite smoothly. Before doing up the straps, Lady Mary took another tissue and wiped off the excess lube from around Tamsin's backside. This done she went into the en-suite to dispose of the soiled tissues and wash her hands.

When she returned it was a relatively simple matter of adjusting the straps of the harness. Lady Mary seemed entranced by the way the tail appeared to come from the base of the spine and cascaded down the back of Tamsin's thighs. Moreover, when adjusting the straps at the front Lady Mary seemed overly keen to ensure that Tamsin's sex was suitably clear and took the opportunity to have another grope using the excuse of 'getting things right'.

Once Lady Mary was completely satisfied that the harness was properly fitted Andrea informed her that Tamsin's current shoes, the strappy sandals, were only for travelling and that, in the bag, were the high heeled ankle boots which could be padlocked on. Lady Mary found them, announced that they were perfect except that she recommended not using the padlocks. "After all, my dear, you can't guarantee that you'll be around when it's time to take them off," she said with a laugh. She seemed to feel that a handmaiden should have no part of dressing herself and she knelt down in front of Tamsin so as to fit the shoes. With Lady Mary thus distracted Tamsin glanced over at Andrea, rolled her eyes, and the two of them shared a smile.

"There, that's got your pretty little handmaiden all sorted out," Lady Mary said as she got up off the floor. "Lets see how the tail moves when she walks."

Lady Mary went to the chest of drawers and found herself a riding crop. She used this to chivvy Tamsin around the room. The high heeled boots enforced a mincing, hip swinging gait and this made the tail swing from side to side in a way that delighted Lady Mary.

Meanwhile Andrea had got as far as putting on her bodice and needed help with tightening the laces. She turned her back on the room and called out "Maid!"

"No, no! Allow me," Lady Mary interjected. She went over and, leaving Tamsin standing somewhat aghast, started tightening the laces.

"I do feel a woman's body, and I mean a real woman's, body looks so fine encased in dark leather. And, of course, you have the body for it," Lady Mary gushed and, under the pretence of adjusting the bodice, Tamsin noticed that she had a good grope of Andrea's breasts. With a start Tamsin realised that, for Lady Mary, what was important wasn't so much the owner of the body she was groping but the fact that it was her that was doing the groping. If she'd have been male she would have been a dirty old man, the sort that can't keep his hands off waitresses bottoms. Indeed, under the pretext of admiring Andrea's leather panties she was having a good old grope down there as well. 

However, much as Lady Mary was prepared to help with tightening Andrea's bodice she certainly wasn't going to get down on her knees to help fit her knee high boots. These were laced from just above the foot all the way to the knee and Tamsin knew from practice back at the flat that they were a bind to get on and off. As soon as Lady Mary had finished adjusting the bodice Tamsin, in her role of dutiful slave, was down on her knees holding the boots ready. As she worked away at the laces she sensed Lady Mary come up behind her and then, to her compete lack of surprise, she felt the tip of the crop being stoked across the taut globes of her buttocks. It was almost inevitable that.... Thwack! Not too hard but enough to sting, the crop left its vivid red mark across Tamsin's flesh. Tamsin jerked forward and dropped the laces.

"Lady Mary, really!" Andrea said in mock annoyance. "Please, stop distracting the child! She takes long enough as it is."

"I'm sorry, my dear, but I couldn't resist the temptation," Lady Mary replied with a laugh that belied any real repentance.

Naked and knelt between Andrea and Lady Mary while ordered to lace Andrea's boots, Tamsin felt the humiliation burning within her, but that was nothing compared to having Andrea call her 'the child'. She gritted her teeth and swallowed it back trying to, as Andrea put it, keep her eyes on the prize. She knew, or at least she hoped, that Andrea had only said that so as to play along to Lady Mary, to play at being the haughty Domme Even so, there was a sneaking suspicion at the back of her mind that, in Andrea eyes, a child was all she was. With a tug that was, maybe a little harder than required, Tamsin tied off the laces.

After that there was only the relatively simple matter of Andrea's leather skirt and they were ready, well, almost ready. Lady Mary looked Tamsin up and down and suggested that, in the first instance at least, her hands might want to to be fastened behind her back and, without asking Andrea's permission, used the quick release catches on her wrist cuffs to do just that. Then she reminded Andrea that, from now on, they should wear their masks and, given that there was a strict rule that club names should be used during the meeting, she should address her as Voluptua, not Lady Mary. 'Emma', on the other hand, would not be addressed by her club name until she was initiated.

"Don't forget, it's club rules from now on," she said as she led them back downstairs.

When they got downstairs Tamsin found that it was, to all intents and purposes, a pretty normal cocktail party. Well, normal when you put aside they way everyone was dressed. The Dommes were all wearing a peplos although they did so with varying degrees of effectiveness. On some it just looked a bit dowdy but on others it looked incredibly sexy. The biggest difference was whether the open side was a tantalising glance at the hidden delights beneath or gaping hole showing that which would best remain hidden. 

The handmaidens, by comparison, were wearing practically nothing. Of course, some sort of collar was de rigueur although, even there, there was a significant amount of variation. The width and thickness of the leather differed considerably from those that were almost mere decorations to those which left no illusions to the status of the wearer. Furthermore, whilst most were black leather there were a couple in white and even one in pink. Beyond that there were no standards. Some, like Tamsin, were wearing ankle and wrist cuffs, others weren't. Some wore shoes, always with perilously high heels; many were barefoot. There were gags and nipple clamps and a couple of handmaidens had been dressed in a cross between a wide belt and a corset and, in each case, this had been tightly laced so that the leather constricted the wearer. And that left one last common factor; each and every one of them had their pubic area clean shaven. Tamsin may not have liked the various things that had been imposed on her but, dressed as she was, even with the tail, she fitted in perfectly.

As Lady Mary led them into the party and started doing the introductions Tamsin looked around to see if she could spot Princess Charlotte among those present. The room was busy and everyone was masked so it wasn't easy. There were a couple of maybes but, on second look, they turned out to be strangers. She did spot Euthenia without Calliope who was, presumably, helping in the kitchen.

"Stop gawping!" Andrea ordered rather crossly. "For heaven's sake, I thought I had you better trained than that. Stand up straight with your feet a shoulders width apart and with your head bowed. I do apologise," Andrea turned to Voluptua and Epione one of the Dommes she had just been introduced to, "my maid is a little unused to this sort of gathering."

"There's no need to apologise. We've all had problems with discipline. I normally keep a notebook with me to make sure such infractions don't get forgotten but, on this occasion, I guess all we can do is make a mental note. Before the evening is over there will be plenty of opportunity to show her the error of her ways," Epione replied. "In fact I'm sure I'm not the only one who wouldn't mind helping you spank that pretty little bottom of hers." And, as if to prove the point, the Domme reached behind Tamsin and gave her buttock a squeeze.

Voluptua was busy introducing Andrea to the rest of the party. What with all the masks and Greek names it was a bit of a struggle to remember who was whom and, with her eyes downcast, Tamsin could only listen and not watch, but she tried to make a mental note of as much a possible so as to be able to report back to Angus tomorrow. There seemed to be maybe a dozen couples in total although, from what Tamsin could gather, there were plenty more who hadn't made it and the 'club' totalled thirty or forty members in all. As most of them had known each other in school they were all pretty much the same sort of age although some, like Voluptua were pushing forty while others appeared much younger, early twenties even. 

The conversations mostly centred around the ever increasing costs of keeping up appearances and how the 'lower classes' failed to understand the problems of land ownership. The topic of fox hunting found some favour; absolutely all of them found the ban on hunting with hounds an intolerable imposition and a gross misunderstanding of country ways. The fact that the current Tory government had failed to repeal the ban was seen as some sort of class treachery.

I wasn't long before they were called to table. It said much about Lady Mary's house that the dining table was of sufficient size that even when the dozen Dommes seated it was far from capacity and there was more than enough room for those handmaidens who were not involved with serving to be knelt on the floor at their 'owner's' side. Tamsin was knelt next to Andrea and, on her other side was Chelone, a Domme whose handmaiden Thalia was among those serving. Both would, on occasion, feed Tamsin with morsels from their plates but she still ended up hungry when compared to Andrea and the other Dommes. For her, excluded from the conversation and with a very restricted view of the proceedings, the meal seemed interminable, but eventually it started to draw to a close. As the desert dishes were cleared away there was a growing air of expectation. The rise in sexual tension was almost palpable. They were just finishing their post dinner brandies when Voluptua got up from her seat and came over to Andrea.

"Emma, my dear, if you would just come with me, there's some bits and pieces we have to attend to. Chelone, darling, perhaps you would be so kind as to keep an eye on Emma's little handmaiden while we pop off for a minute or two."

"Of course. The pleasure's all mine. I'll make sure she doesn't stray from my sight," Chelone replied looking at Tamsin in a way that did nothing to reassure her. Andrea got up from the table. Voluptua took her gently by the arm and led her out of the room.

Tamsin suddenly felt very alone. She was knelt naked on the floor with her hands behind her back surrounded by people who, in general, she actively despised but who all felt they had been granted carte blanche to do what they wanted with her and her body. She may not have liked Andrea very much and there wasn't a vast amount of trust in their relationship but, for all that, at least they were on the same page, at least there was some honesty between them. Chelone reached down and fed her one of the after dinner mints that had been supplied with the coffees but the smile she gave as she did was unsettling rather than comforting.

Barely five minutes had passed since Andrea had been led away when the dinner gong in the hallway sounded. One of the Dommes got to her feet.

"Ladies," she announced, "I do believe that the Sisterhood of Hellenic Goddesses is in session. Shall we make our way to the temple?"

The assembled Dommes got to their feet and, along with their handmaidens, made their way out of the dining room and into the hallway. Tamsin accompanied Chelone along with Thalia whose kitchen duties had now finished. Indeed, it would seem that much of the post meal tidying up was being left for later as all the handmaidens were now present, each accompanying their respective Dommes. Chelone, Tamsin and Thalia followed the throng through to the rear of the house where they came to a doorway which Popsy, or should it be Odyne, was holding open. Once through the doorway there was a staircase which led down into the cellars under the house.

Tamsin glanced about her. The cellars, matching the house above, were extensive and were mostly used, as are cellars everywhere, as a dumping ground for things that have no other home. However they went past the piles of odds and sods, through another door, and into an area which was far from being a dumping ground. At first sight it was a vast and well stocked wine cellar but it was far more than that. In between the wine racks were half hidden alcoves and, as they went by, Tamsin glanced inside one of them. Each one had heavy curtains that could be drawn across the entrance so that it could be made completely private and, inside, the main feature was a chaise longue. There was also a small chest of drawers on top of which was a pile of towels and, hanging on the wall were suitably placed shackles and a selection of paddles, floggers, whips and crops. 

"Checking out the playrooms," Chelone laughed. "Don't worry, you'll be seeing much more of them later. Now come along," and, with a pat to Tamsin's backside she chivvied her along towards the end of the passage way. 

They went on through, past the wine racks, until they reached a large room which had been set up as a temple. At at the far end was taken up by semicircular dais. Either side of the dais were two large candlesticks and these, together with candles in sconces along the wall, were the only lighting in the room. This flickering candlelight helped to provide the slightly mystic atmosphere. Between the sconces the walls were hung with dark red cloth and dotted with erotic statues on plinths. However all this paled into insignificance compared to the centrepiece of the dais: a statue of Pan in dark oak. Stretching over six foot from its cloven hooves to horned head the statue was carved in the form of the traditional half man, half goat. It stood facing into the room with its arms raised as if signalling a touchdown in American football. A metal bar ran between these upraised hands and that, in turn, was connected to chains that linked together and stretched up to a pulley on the ceiling. However, it wasn't these upraised arms which grabbed Tamsin's attention. Whether man or goat, Pan was undeniably male and a well endowed male at that. From what Tamsin already knew of Voluptua and her friends, she could be sure that, before the evening was over, someone was going to end up impaled on the massive hook of a phallus that projected from its loins.

"Good, isn't it?" Chelone had spotted Tamsin staring. "Voluptua found it in a junk shop in Athens and just had to have it and, ever since... well, you'll see. I don't want to spoil the fun. Now get on your knees next to Thalia. Oh, it is nice to have a matched pair! I must have you two play with each other later. Won't that be fun?"

Tamsin was not sure whether her definition of fun exactly matched Chelone's but the question was rhetorical so she answered with a smile as she got down on her knees next to Thalia who, in turn, gave her a welcoming wink. Tamsin glanced around. The room was filling up with the Dommes who stood around the edges, each with respective handmaiden knelt before them. When she was younger, Tamsin had been taken on a school trip to Buckinghamshire and one of the highlights had been a visit to the Hell Fire caves. With the massive exception that this was all women, this mixture of eroticism and mock pagan worship, with its combination of ceremonial robes and nudity, was exactly how she had imagined meetings of the Hell Fire club. She was also sure they were certainly in for the same level of debauchery before the night was over.

A door at the back of the stage opened a Voluptua came out and stood in front of the statue.

"Sisters! This is a very special meeting for tonight we have a new goddess who has petitioned to join our circle. Bring forth the neophyte, bring forth she who would wish to join our company!"

Odyne appeared from the same door and, on the end of a leash behind her, there was Andrea, on her hands and knees naked except for a blindfold and wrist cuffs which were linked together by a short length of chain. Although Tamsin was slightly shocked she was also grateful that, for once, it was Andrea who was being humiliated in this fashion. Let her find out what it was like, let her suffer for once. Odyne brought Andrea to the front of the dais and handed the leash to Voluptua.

"What is your name, neophyte?" Voluptua demanded.

"I am the goddess Pheme," Andrea replied.

"Is it your wish to join your sisters on Olympus?"

"That is my wish, that is what I crave."

They were obviously following some sort of script and, although she was playing at being solemn and dignified, Tamsin could tell that Lady Mary was loving every second in her role as Voluptua. Whether the same could be said of Andrea was another matter. 'She should be grateful she hasn't got anything shoved up her arse,' Tamsin thought to herself rather bitterly.




Royal Flush Ch. 06



"The road to Olympus has many trials," Voluptua continued. "Are you ready to be tested? Do you take this road willingly?"

"I take this road willingly."

"You must be proven with the trial of fire. To be accepted into Olympus a goddess must bring fire from the heights and down to the people. Do you accept this trial?"

"I accept this trial willingly."

"Bring forth the fire of the gods!" Voluptua ordered a little over pompously. Tamsin couldn't help smile to herself as she imagined the bossy schoolgirl of all those years ago whose dorm games had evolved into this nonsense. Secret societies and all this trial of fire tosh; really!

Odyne fetched two candlesticks from an alcove at the side of the dais. She lit one before placing it on the dais at the foot of the statue. She then took the other and the assembled Dommes and handmaidens moved to the sides of the temple so that it could be placed on the floor at the far end of the room. When she returned to the dais, she went back to the alcove and returned with a yet a third candle, one that was longer and thicker than the others. She handed this to Voluptua.

"Let the neophyte see the trial before her!"

Odyne removed the blindfold. Andrea, blinking somewhat, glanced about her.

"Your trial is to carry the fire of the gods from Pan to the people. Use this candle to lighten their darkness."

Andrea knelt up and reached for the candle with her linked hands but Voluptua held the candle out of reach.

"To show proper humility the supplicant may use neither hand nor mouth to carry the flame. At befits one as yet untested, she must remain on her knees so that the candle can be suitably positioned. Bow down and kiss the feet of the statue so that you may be properly prepared."

'Here we go,' Tamsin thought to herself. As she had suspected, for all Voluptua's grand words and semi mystical nonsense, this was just another sex game. When Andrea turned and bent forward to kiss the statue's feet her backside was presented straight towards the temple. Voluptua dipped the bottom end of the candle in a pot that Odyne was now holding and stirred it around. As she took it out again she held it by the middle to reveal that the bottom had been shaped so that, whilst nothing when compared to the one currently lodged in Tamsin's backside, it was still effectively a butt plug. Voluptua leant down and, with as much ceremony as she could muster, separated Andrea's buttock cheeks with one hand and, with the other, pushed the candle firmly against Andrea's sphincter. Then, with a certain amount of twisting back and forth, Voluptua pushed it deep into Andrea until her sphincter could grip the groove that had been carved around it for exactly that purpose. Whatever had been in the pot must have been some sort of lubricant for, although Tamsin had seen Andrea's backside clench, and Voluptua had to push quite hard at first, once the candle had passed the sphincter, it had slid straight in without too many problems.

"Have a care, goddess Pheme. Do not allow the flame to fall or die for to fail at either will have its forfeit. And time is of the essence; should you tarry too long and the candle will burn too short you will surely fail." She reached down and unclipped the leash. "You may begin."

As Andrea was about to demonstrate, there can be few things less dignified than crawling around with a candle pushed up your backside. Her first difficulty was getting it lit. She backed up towards the candle at Pan's feet but, in order to see what she was doing, she had look back between her spread thighs and perform endless undignified contortions. Tamsin glanced around at the Dommes. All were smiling and waiting for Pheme to falter. Tamsin guessed that most, if not all, had been through this at some point and all would be aware of the contortions needed just to get this bit done. And that would only be the start of her problems. Andrea had been warned to hurry but even the smallest movement of her thighs made the candle wave about wildly and, after only a yard or so of the first attempt and several yards the second, this waving about was enough to extinguish the candle forcing her to go back and relight it. What is more, although the candle was maybe twelve inches long and more than an inch thick, being on its side meant that it burnt much faster. The backs of Andrea's calves were quickly getting spattered with wax where the candle was dripping.

But even that wasn't the full extent of Andrea's problems. Although the candle was grooved like a butt plug the groove was not that deep and, with the best will in the world, Andrea's bodily reflexes were trying to expel it. On her third attempt Andrea managed to crawl the whole length of the room but, as she was turning so as to reverse up to the unlit candle, she lost her grip and the candle fell to the floor to the jeers and merriment of the onlookers. On Voluptua's orders Andrea had to blow out the flame and pick up the candle in her teeth so as to return it to the dais where it was refitted. She took great care to pick up the candle by the right end as she did so.

As Andrea set off for the fourth time there was a look of determination on her face that Tamsin recognised. For Andrea this had gone way beyond some silly game she was playing so as to become accepted into the club; she wanted to win. Like Tamsin, Andrea would know, or at least guess, that all the other Dommes had tried this and succeeded. This time, Andrea was simply not going to let herself fail. She relit the candle and set of, slowly but surely, along the floor. With great care, she turned around and started to reverse up towards the unlit candle. It was difficult for her, looking back between her legs, to see where she was going and she nearly knocked the candle over on her first approach but she tried again and, this time.... The whole room seemed to hold its breath.

"Bravo! Bravo!" Voluptua called out and there were similar cries and a round of applause from the goddesses. "The task has been completed and you are on your way to glory. However, you failed three times along the way. Twice did the fire fail and once did it strike the ground. For these sins there is a price that must be paid. Remain on your knees as you approach the statue."

With the candle now lit Andrea, with an air of relief, expelled the candle from her backside before crawling back across the room towards the dais. Odyne went over and, rather carefully, picked up both the discarded end along with the candle Andrea had just lit and, following behind Andrea, brought them back and tidied them away.

"Three times you failed," Voluptua said as Andrea knelt before her. "Three times the flame did not reach the people. To shrive you of these failures you must become one with Pan, you must give yourself up to him, surrender to him. Are you willing to be his bride?"

'Here we go,' Tamsin thought to herself. 'As soon as I saw that statue I knew someone was going to be impaled on it. At least it isn't me... yet.'

"I am willing," Andrea replied.

"Prepare the way," Voluptua ordered.

Odyne came out from the wings with a block which was maybe six or seven inches higher than the plinth on which the statue stood. This she placed in front of the statue as a sort of step. Andrea was helped up onto it and, slightly to Tamsin's surprise, arranged not facing the statue but out into the room. The statue's phallus must have been jabbing between Andrea's buttocks but neither Voluptua nor Odyne made any move to impale her. Then Voluptua got up on the block and lifted Andrea's arms up, over her head so that she could use a quick release clip to attach the chain that ran between Andrea's wrists to the metal bar running between Pan's upraised hands. There was plenty of slack and Andrea was able to grasp the bar with her hands. As she did so the statue wobbled a bit but the ceiling chain stopped it from falling. Voluptua then stepped back down off the block and faced the room.

"Where is Alethia, handmaiden to Pheme?" Voluptua demanded.

'Her handmaiden! Oh god, that's me. I thought it was too good to last,' Tamsin thought to herself. Chelone, behind her, nudged her forward and Tamsin, still on her knees, shuffled into the centre of the room.

"Approach, Alethia, approach and assist your Goddess."

Tamsin shuffled across the room until she reached the dais. Voluptua and Odyne helped her up and across the dais until she was in front of where Andrea hung from the statue. 

"Alethia, as handmaiden to Pheme, it is your duty to prepare your Goddess, to make her ready for Pan. Open her up, prepare her womanhood, make her bounty flow that she might accept Pan with ease."

Tamsin put two and two together, untangled Voluptua's appalling prose, and realised what was required of her. Knelt directly on the dais she was too low but, by kneeling on the edge of the block that Andrea was stood on, her head was level with Andrea's groin and she was in the right position to 'make Andrea's bounty flow', as Voluptua had so theatrically put it. This was a bit of a milestone for Tamsin. It was one thing being forced into sexual acts with strangers; it was quite another to do so with a work colleague. Although quite a few of the barriers between them had been brought down by this assignment this was going to be the first time that they had actually had any sexual contact. Still, there was no way out and, for a change, it was Andrea, not Tamsin, who was strung up and on display in front of a lascivious crowd. Tamsin leant forward and probed her tongue between Andrea's nether lips.

Slightly to Tamsin's surprise Andrea wasn't as immune to all these games as she made out. For all that she had taken the mickey out of Tamsin's penchant for puppy play and had held herself aloof as she did so, there was something about this particular game that had got to her and her juices were already flowing quite freely. Andrea reached up and grasped the bar from which she was suspended and spread her legs as far as she could. She still had her feet firmly on the block but she was at full stretch which opened her up and invited Tamsin in.

As Tamsin's tongue worked its magic between Andrea's thighs she became aware of the expectant silence in the room. All eyes were upon them and were waiting for the next part. Andrea's arousal was getting more and more obvious but surely that on its own wasn't enough. A simple orgasm while hanging from the statue couldn't possibly count as 'becoming Pan's bride'. No, those who watched knew what was coming next and that was what was causing the anticipation.

Andrea was beginning to lose control. She was thrusting her groin forward and little moans of pleasure were being forced out of her. Just how much of Andrea's willingness to play along was feigned and how much was real had become a moot question. Her orgasm was fast approaching and there was nothing feigned about that.

"Are you ready? Are you ready for your god?" Voluptua asked, studying Andrea to gauge how close she was to her climax.

"Just a little more, please, just a little more," Andrea gasped. "Just... just... just..."

"Turn and face your god!" Voluptua ordered and she tugged Tamsin away. Voluptua and Odyne between them quickly turned Andrea around so that she faced the statue and Voluptua herself guided Andrea to impale herself on the phallus.

"Are you ready to enter paradise? Are you ready to give yourself up to Pan?"

"Yes, yes, I am! I am!" Andrea replied as she changed her grip on the bar between Pan's hands and, using it to gain purchase, squirmed against the statue, shamelessly rutting herself on the phallus.

"Then feel his power!" And, with that, Voluptua and Odyne pushed the statue so that it rocked backwards taking Andrea with it. The top fell maybe a couple of feet before the chain, which had been surreptitiously adjusted by Voluptua, snapped tight holding the statue at an angle with Andrea now astride it, one leg dangling either side, her weight supported by her arms and, more pertinently, the phallus which was buried to the hilt within her.

Although those watching had been expecting, nay waiting for this, there was still a collective gasp of sympathy as the statue's phallus was rammed so forcefully home. However, to be fair to Voluptua, she had waited until Andrea's grip on the bar was sufficiently firm that, when the statue fell, she could hold herself up by her arms and not rely on the phallus inside her for support. What is more, now that it was in this tilted position Tamsin could see how Pan's shaggy goat legs had been carved to form a sort of saddle which Andrea could grip with her thighs. Indeed, it was now clear that the statue had been designed to be ridden in this way. And riding it was exactly what Andrea was doing. Once she had adjusted to the new angle she was surrendering herself to Pan, just as she had been exhorted. And it wasn't all show, either. In fact, as Andrea flexed the muscles of her buttocks you could see the phallus glisten from her juices as it worked its way in and out of her. Although she would almost certainly use the excuse of 'doing it to gain acceptance' she wasn't entirely averse to what was being done to her.

"How many times did Pheme fail the trial of fire?" Voluptua called out to the room.

"Three! Three times she failed!" came the shout in reply.

"So how many times must she be shriven?"

"Three times! Three times!"

Voluptua went to the side of the dais and returned with a long wooden paddle.

"And is the supplicant ready to receive her penance?"

"Yes, I am ready," Andrea replied, her voice rather shaky. She had stopped working herself against the statue and was looking apprehensively over her shoulder.

Thwapp! Thwapp! Thwapp! Voluptua struck Andrea across the backside.

"Thank you, goddess Voluptua," Andrea gasped but, if she thought that was it, she was sorely mistaken. One by one, in slow procession, each of the Dommes present were called to the dais and, one by one they too gave Andrea three blows with the paddle. Each time Andrea would thank her tormentor but, with each set of three, she was losing control. Her backside was a fiery red and her thanks were getting ever more strained. What's more, her squirming from the blows combined with the increasing struggle to hold herself up which meant that the statue was doing what it had been designed to do. Time and again, whether through pain or pleasure, Andrea squirmed and shuddered as the statue did it's thing.

At last the final blows fell. 

"The ordeal is over, be as one with the great god Pan!" Voluptua ordered.

Whether faked or real, Andrea worked herself against the statue, grinding herself down so that the carved 'pubic hair' would rub against her most sensitive flesh until, with an animal cry, she impaled herself as far as she could go and the whole room seemed to exhale. The flow of her juices down the thighs of the statue told their own tale. In the end there had been nothing faked at all.

"Behold our new goddess!" Voluptua cried out. "Behold sister Pheme! Let none deny that she has paid the price, let none deny that she is now one of us! Behold! Behold!"

The statue was lowered gently until it was parallel with the ground and Andrea could just lie along its length, her weight no longer held by her hands or the hook of the phallus. Drained and exhausted, she just lay there for a while. She was too spent to move, too spent even to pull herself forward so as to remove the phallus from between her thighs. Voluptua went over and undid the wrist cuffs before gently easing Andrea off the statue and helping her onto her feet. She was still holding her upright as she led her to the front of the dais where she was met by rapturous cheering from the congregation.

Whilst Voluptua was leading Andrea to the front of the dais, Odyne had fetched a brand new peplos and handed it to Voluptua who fitted it over Andrea's shoulders before giving her a sensuous kiss.

"Welcome, Pheme, welcome to the club," Tamsin heard Voluptua say sotto voce. "Now, you're probably a bit sore down below. I know I certainly was when it was my time to ride the statue. Can I suggest that you get one of the handmaidens to kiss it better? Take your pick and enjoy yourself, no one will deny you that. Oh, and don't worry about Alethia, we'll look after that pretty little maid of yours."

While Voluptua was still finishing off fitting the peplos Andrea was being inundated with well-wishers. There was a general feeling that she had given a good account of herself and, as with Voluptua, there was an assumption that Pheme would wish to celebrate her ascension to deity by making use of the services of one or more of the handmaidens. Of course, the natural corollary of this was that, should any of the Dommes wish to make use of Tamsin's services, then she was equally available and Tamsin's novelty value was making her popular. However, there was absolutely nothing that Tamsin could do about it so her only option was to kneel next to Andrea and await her fate.

As the Dommes chatted a handmaiden appeared carrying a tray of drinks and they each took a glass and clinked them together with a hearty 'cheers'. Tamsin sincerely wished that she too could imbibe. A stiff drink, preferably vodka, was just what she needed. However, for the moment, she was going to have to go without.

It was Chelone who made the first move. 

"I've been admiring your Alethia all night," she said quite openly. "Such a pretty little thing. Stand up, girl." 

Tamsin got to her feet. Chelone lifted her chin and looked her in the eye and Tamsin smiled nervously back at her.

"A little timid, perhaps, but then the timid ones are often the most fun. Do you mind if I borrow her for a while?"

"No, no, be my guest," Andrea replied. "Alethia, off you go, and don't let me down."

Chelone took Tamsin and Thalia, who had been patiently waiting beside her, and led the two of them to one of the alcoves, where, once they were inside, she closed the curtains and lay back on the chaise longue. She undid the belt of her peplos and, as she did so, the material slipped to one side revealing that she was naked beneath.

"Thalia, sweetie, poor Alethia has had her arms behind her back for hours. Unfasten her wrists and loosen her up a bit. You know what I mean."

Thalia went behind Tamsin and undid the clip holding her wrist cuffs together. It had, indeed, been hours and Tamsin's shoulders were stiff and awkward. Even so she had mixed feelings as Thalia stood behind her and massaged her shoulder blades. It wasn't the massage, per se, that bothered her, rather it was the way this was being done as some sort of show for Chelone's amusement. However, as always, she was out of options. If she didn't play along, if she let her true feelings be known, she and Andrea would be thrown out of the club and all their hard work would be wasted. But it was more than just playing along; she had to be seen to be actively enjoying this 'sexy fun', not just enduring but actively welcoming the abuse. She leant back into Thalia and tried her best to fake arousal.

But, if Tamsin was faking it, then Thalia certainly wasn't. Still standing behind Tamsin she moved on from the massage by wrapping one arm around to play with Tamsin's breasts while the other went for her groin. What's more, Thalia was no novice and, while Tamsin generally preferred a less direct approach, Thalia's fingers were gentle and soothing and it wasn't that hard to relax into her caresses. Tamsin glanced down at Chelone whose hand had slipped under the folds of her peplos and she was openly playing with herself. Tamsin, with gritted teeth behind her smile, determined that, if watching her 'slaves' play with one another was what turned Chelone on, then that was what she was going to get. If Andrea could ingratiate herself by getting off on being raped by a statue then playing along at being some sort of erotic dancer was next to nothing. She leaned her head back, turned towards Thalia who was looking over her shoulder and kissed her on the lips.




Royal Flush Ch. 06



And the kiss went on and on and on. As long as Tamsin could divorce the emotional side of what she was doing from the physical side then Thalia was actually pretty skilled and the touch of her fingers were working well. Putting herself firmly in the mindset of an erotic dancer, and thinking only of the prize, Tamsin turned to face Thalia so that, this time, they could kiss properly. Thalia reached behind Tamsin and, taking her tail, lifted it up and laid it along her spine so that, as she stroked it, Tamsin felt the combined effects of Thalia's hand and the fur of the tail. Tamsin didn't need to fake the little moan of pleasure this produced. Whatever this embrace may have lacked in love it more than made up for with eroticism.

Tamsin let her kisses wander. Thalia's neck, shoulders, upper arms and breasts were all visited and, when Thalia's nipples swelled under the attention, Tamsin started to give them gentle nibbles with her teeth. Now it was Thalia's turn to gasp in pleasure. However, this had the side effect of letting Chelone know what she was missing.

"That's enough of you girls having all the fun," she said. "Now, come here, you two. Thalia, you take this side and Alethia, you take the other." As Thalia and Tamsin knelt down either side of the chaise longue Chelone undid the buckle at her shoulder so that she could then push the peplos right out of the way. She lay back, directing Thalia and Alethia to each take a nipple and show her how well they could work together.

They had only just started when Tamsin felt something touching the side of her face. She reached up to find that it was Thalia who took her hand and guided them so that, while still busy kissing Chelone's nipples, their conjoined hands could rest on Chelone's tummy. Although she knew immediately where this was heading she took her time from Thalia as, together, they moved their hands to either side of Chelone's pubic mound. Together they started a circular massage, which, whilst not acting directly on Chelone's sex, was having the desired effect and raising her level of arousal.

Tamsin, knowing that Thalia would be better attuned to Chelone, let her take the lead. Out of the corner of her eye she watched what Thalia was doing to Chelone's breast and mirrored it. When Thalia kissed Chelone's nipple so did Tamsin, when she just used her tongue to flick at the tip, so did Tamsin and, moreover, their hands were working together down below. Thalia put her hand directly over Tamsin's and, interlinking their fingers, guided her down until, together, they probed between Chelone's nether lips, found the centre of her pleasure, and, without once stopping their attention to Chelone's breasts, moved their fingers in a circular motion until Chelone was brought to orgasm.

"Oh, you clever girls!" Chelone exclaimed as she wiped herself down with one of the smaller towels one she had recovered somewhat. "I knew you would work well together. Maybe I should lend Thalia to Pheme and then she can find out how good you are as a pair. Would that be a good idea, Alethia? Do you think goddess Pheme would appreciate that?"

"I'm sure she would," Tamsin replied.

"Let's get back and see how the others are getting on. Thalia, you tidy up in here and follow on."

As they returned Tamsin noticed that many of the other alcoves were curtained off and, from those that were, came sounds that the participants within were fully occupied. As they entered the temple itself Tamsin had a look around for Andrea who was nowhere to be seen. In fact the crowd had thinned out somewhat, which was no surprise given the number of alcoves in use.

"Chelone darling, I haven't seen you since Henley. You must tell me where you got that hat. Simply divine!" Euthenia had spotted them and came over with Calliope in tow.

"That hat, isn't it lovely. I found this darling little milliners in San Trop. Very French, very chic and run by this wonderful woman who is so inventive. Give me a call tomorrow and I'll let you have the address."

But Euthenia didn't seem to be quite as interested in hats once she spotted that the handmaiden on her knees next to Chelone wasn't Thalia but Alethia.

"My word! I'd recognise that tail anywhere. I missed out on having any playtime with her when we had a puppy show," Euthenia said. "It's so nice to have someone new in the group. I thought that Pheme did herself proud riding the statue."

"It still makes me wince every time," Chelone laughed. "I'll never forget..."

"Nor will I, dear, nor will I. Now, I wouldn't want to queue jump but if you've finished with this one I wouldn't mind having a turn."

"Be my guest," Chelone replied. "I had her as a matched pair with Thalia and can highly recommend her. She's a bit shy at first but once she gets going... well, I was most satisfied."

Tamsin would never know how much of all this was an act and how much the way these women really thought but, as Pheme's handmaiden, she was seen purely as a piece of meat, meat there to be used for sexual gratification without any further consideration. It was almost inevitable that, minutes later, Tamsin found herself back in one of the alcoves, knelt on the floor, with her face buried between Euthenia's thighs.

And that pretty much set the tone for the night. Her novelty value made her popular and, by the time the party was drawing to a close Tamsin must have serviced a good half of the Dommes there and a fair few of their handmaidens as well. Her jaw and neck ached from all the work, her backside had been paddled more than once and she was worn to a frazzle. At least she had escaped without having to 'ride the statue', a fate that befell some of the other handmaidens. It would seem that it was a popular whipping stool and, judging by the reactions of some who were on it, this popularity was shared by the whipped as well as those doing the whipping. However, as she watched one handmaiden being 'forced' upon it she noted that they were mounted on the statue when it was flat before being lifted into position rather than being impaled in same rather brutal way that had been used on Andrea. 

But the physical strain had been only a small part of what had made the evening tough going. The emotional toll was far worse. For Tamsin the act of making love was an act of sharing, of letting a physical closeness match an emotional one. Whilst the puppy show had been similar, at least there had been some sort of connection with Princess Charlotte which, in itself, had made up for the rest. Moreover she had, for the most part, been with Andrea so, in that respect, she had been there as part of a couple. Here, abandoned by Andrea and at the whim of whomever wanted her, she felt very alone. Furthermore there was the dissonance with the rest of the party who were, undoubtedly, having fun. She, on the other hand, felt more than ever before, that she was simply a commodity to be used. Her appeal was a combination of her novelty and her availability. None of the Dommes that had used her had made any attempt to engage with her as a person. She was simply their latest doll, dancing to their tune. 

What made it worse, what added to this isolation, was watching the other subs who, whilst still swapped around, were returning to their respective Dommes where there were some very obvious bonds. This 'wife swapping' was all very well when, after it was all over, you had a loving partner to go back to but when it was all a pretence, when your loving partner was merely a workmate, and one you didn't particularly get on with, then it was all a very different matter.

During the course of the evening she actually saw Andrea a few times in passing, although never for more than a moment or two as they changed partners in this mad cotillion. From what she could gather, now that she was past her 'ordeal', Andrea was having a ball. As with Tamsin, her novelty was winning her friends, but, unlike Tamsin, she had some choice in her actions.

And then, as the party drew to a close, one last Domme claimed her. However, instead of being taken to an alcove, Tamsin was taken upstairs to the bedrooms. The Domme was too tired and too tipsy to demand more than a few cuddles and, minutes later, Tamsin ended up lying in the bed listening to this stranger snore. She wondered if she should sneak out and try and find the correct room but then she remembered what Lady Mary had said about musical beds and sorting it out in the morning. She was stuck sharing a bed with this snoring stranger, stuck there until morning, a morning that couldn't come soon enough.

And, despite the slightly queasy feeling in her stomach and the rumbling snores from her bed mate, she drifted off to sleep.

The sun was up and a certain amount of light was coming through the gaps in the curtains when Tamsin was woken by a light tap on the shoulder.

"Wha... whassup?" Tamsin asked blearily. She rolled over to see a naked woman crouched down beside the bed.

"Shh... you don't want to wake grumpy," the woman whispered in reply. "You're the new girl, aren't you. Come in to the en-suite and we can talk."

The woman stood back up and, with a smile, motioned Tamsin to follow her to the en-suite. As she walked away Tamsin noticed the criss-cross of crop marks on the woman's backside. Tamsin slipped out from under the covers and crept after her. Once inside the woman closed the door as quietly as she could.

"Hi, I'm Justina... err... Mida," the woman said. "We like to sort out the musical beds before the Dommes wake up. It makes life easier."

"That suits me," Tamsin replied. "My name is Alethia, by the way."

"Awful bind, all these Greek names but you know what Voluptua is like. Well, maybe you don't but you'll soon find out. Don't get me wrong, we all love her dearly, but she loves keeping us organised."

"Yeah, I got that bit," Tamsin replied. "Look, my Domme is in the Blue Room, at least I think she is. Can you tell me where to find it?"

"The Blue Room? That sounds about right. Out of the door, turn left and it's the last on the right. Sneak in quietly in case I got it wrong but don't worry if I have, they'll understand."

"I best be off then."

"Don't you want a hand with that tail first?" Mida asked. "You might find it easier taking it out now rather than when you get to the room. That's if it's OK with your boss."

"I'll be glad to get rid of it," Tamsin replied with feeling and, as she did so, she realised she had committed herself to removing the tail in front of this woman. She undid the buckles, let the strapping fall and eased the plug out of her backside. 

"Here, let me," Mida said and, while Tamsin sat on the toilet and wiped herself down Mida washed off the plug. "I bet you knew all about it having this up your jacksie all night," Mida joked. "Jesus, what a monster."

"You get used to it," Tamsin replied as she washed her hands.

"If you say so. Now, you had best be off before grumpy wakes up. Take care and, who knows, maybe next time...." Tamsin finished washing her hands and reached for a towel. Then Mida handed her the harness before leaning forward and giving Tamsin a kiss. Simply because Mida had treated her as a human being and because it would have been churlish to have done otherwise, Tamsin returned the kiss and it threatened to turn into a clinch. After a moment they separated again.

"Go!" Mida urged with a broad smile. "Go before I want you to stay."

And, with that, they left the en-suite. Mida slipped into bed beside 'grumpy' who rolled over and grunted a couple of times but, crucially, didn't wake. Tamsin grabbed her shoes and slipped out into the corridor. On the way to the Blue Room she passed another handmaiden, stark naked, just as she was and, presumably, also returning to the right room. They smiled at each other and exchanged whispered 'good morning's. When she got there the Blue Room had its name on the door so it was easy to identify. As quietly as she could Tamsin slipped inside. There in the bed was Andrea and, beside her, equally fast asleep, another of the handmaidens. Tamsin put down her tail and shoes before gently waking the handmaiden and, with a conversation which consisted entirely of smiles and whispers, the two women swapped places.

A couple of hours later Popsy knocked on the door and came in carrying a breakfast tray for two.

"You can come down to the drawing room as soon as you're ready," she said. "Lady Mary said to tell you that civvies are the order of the day."

Andrea and Tamsin sat together in the bed and ate their breakfast. It was a bit strange, what with them both being naked and all, but, after the events of the previous night, there was little embarrassment left. 

"Jesus!" Andrea exclaimed, reaching for her groin as, breakfast finished, she got out from under the covers. "That bloody statue has crippled me for life."

"Really?" Tamsin enquired.

"No, not really," Andrea replied, "but I'm battered and bruised and I'm going to be sore for a while. "What about you, how did you get on?"

"Well, apart from going down on about half of those present and having my arse whipped by the other half I'm just tickety-boo, thank you for asking."

"At least you didn't get a candle shoved up your arse."

"No, I had a butt plug shoved up it and, come to think of it, I wonder exactly who I have to thank for that. Now who would that be? 'Oh, Lady Mary'," Tamsin mimicked, "'I thought it might amuse to have my handmaiden wearing a tail.' Now who said that?" 

"Yeah, OK, I did rather spring that one on you," Andrea conceded. But Tamsin's anger was real and, if she were being fair, Andrea had to concede that she had a point. 

"Well, next time you're springing something on me, remember whose arse it is that gets the butt plug and don't expect any sympathy from me because you had a teensy weensy candle up there for five minutes."

"OK, OK, I said I'm sorry," Andrea protested as she disappeared into the en-suite.

And Tamsin let it rest although, to her recollection, Andrea hadn't actually said that she was sorry.

When they got downstairs it was all pretty subdued. Many had already left and those who remained were not planning on staying long. They went into the lounge where there was coffee and petits fours. Lady Mary was her usual effusive self and apologised for the fact that it would be a while before Popsy would be available to run them back to town. They were still drinking coffee when another couple appeared. The Domme went straight over to Andrea.

"Ah, I'm glad I caught you before you left," she said in a cut glass accent accent. "I'm Otrera, from last night. I'm sure you remember." 

"Of course," Andrea replied. "And can I thank you for the loan of that little handmaiden of yours. She was simply perfect."

"I'm delighted that you found her so," Otrera continued. "Now, I'm glad I caught you before you left. I was wondering if I can tempt you up to Scotland. I'm arranging a little stalking for a few of the girls up at the estate. Weekend after next. I do hope you can join us."

"Stalking? Is that for deer?"

"Something like that but... look, I don't want to give away the surprise."

"Well, now you really have me intrigued. Whatever it is it certainly sounds like fun. Where is this?"

"Oh, up in Sutherland. My husband owns a couple of thousand acres just north of Lairg but, don't worry, he won't be there."  

"That's...," Andrea could call upon her supposed South African origins and plead ignorance. "Sorry, I'm not sure where that is."

"About as far north as you can get and still be mainland," Otrera joked. "Middle of nowhere really but the scenery is fantastic and, of course, we get the privacy. Do come, I know you'll love it and, don't worry about getting there, I'm sure I can arrange a lift for you in one of the planes."

"You make it sound more appealing by the moment. Won't you give me a little clue as to what you stalk?"

"My lips are sealed. You'll find out when you get there," Otrera replied with a smile and it was easy to see she was keeping something back. "Let's not sort out the details now. Just say you'll come and we'll dot the 'i's and cross the 't's later. OK"

"Now I've got to go if only to find out what it is," Andrea carried on the joke.

But before they could discuss much further Lady Mary appeared and announced that Popsy was ready with the car and it was time for Pheme and Alethia to return to London.

"Don't forget, we'll fly up Friday week," Otrera said as they started to leave. "I'll send details nearer the time. Lady Mary has your phone number, doesn't she. Now, promise me you'll be there."

"Oh, we wouldn't miss it for the world," Andrea replied.



Royal Flush Ch. 07



****** Please Read This First *******

I know, I know, I usually don't bother with the disclaimer bits either. Blah, blah, blah, over 18, blah, blah, blah, don't read if easily offended, blah, blah, blah. But, just this once, please bear with me and read this one.

Firstly, this is chapter seven of ten and the story will only make sense if you read it from the start. If you haven't already done so then I sincerely urge you stop and go to chapter one. It will be better that way, honest.

Secondly, this is a work of fiction and all the characters are completely fictional. In particular, one of the main characters is Princess Charlotte who is, according to chapter one, "about tenth in line for the throne". Now, in real life, there can only be one person who holds that position but this story is not real life and it's definitely not about her. 

Princess Charlotte is not a real person and any resemblance is purely coincidental. Before I get carted off to live out what is left of the rest of my life in the Tower Of London, I want to stress that this story is set in a parallel universe where Britain has a very different Royal family with a very different line of succession.

Thirdly, briefly but importantly, my heartfelt thanks to all those who have helped so much. Especial mention must go, as ever, to V and OneWhoAdores for invaluable help along the way.

Fourthly, once again, I fall neatly between the BDSM and Lesbian Love categories. This story centres on a BDSM club and much of the action has a BDSM theme. However, it's a bit short on the whips and chains to really be a BDSM story. On the other hand those looking for a lesbian themed story may well end up complaining, as a critic once did, that my stories always seem to feature a D/s relationship. This one is no exception; its a lesbian love story with BDSM overtones. If this is not what you're looking for stop reading now. That's kinder than voting one star because it wasn't what you were after.

Lastly, this is a story of deception and subterfuge. Most of the characters have at least two names, many three or even four. To help the reader keep track each chapter will start with a dramatis personae. 

The list for this chapter is:-


*Andrea, a journalist, masquerading as Emma Pearson from Paarl, club name Pheme
*Tamsin, another journalist, masquerading as Emma Pearson's sub, club name Alethia
*Angus, Editor of the Daily Sleaze, a London based tabloid newspaper.. 
*Lady Mary, a lady, club name Voluptua. 
*The ladies who lunch


*Georgina McDonald, club name Otrera along with her sub Zoe Fitzwarren, club name Pyrrha
*Hermione Sergeant, club name Chelone, along with her sub Augusta Frogmorton, club name Thalia
*Patience Armitage, club name Artemis, along with her sub Sally McIntosh, club name Hipperia
*Barbara Abercrombie, club name Euthenia, along with her sub, Felicity Ambrose, club name Calliope


*The pony show


*Patience Armitage, club name Artemis, along with her sub Sally McIntosh, club name Hipperia, pony name Foxtrot
*Barbara Abercrombie, club name Euthenia along with her sub Felicity Ambrose, club name Calliope, pony name Strawberry
*Celia Molesworth, club name Arete along with her sub, Elizabeth fforde, club name Aergia, pony name Pepper
*Hermione Sergeant, club name Chelone, along with her sub Augusta Frogmorton, club name Thalia, pony name Freckles





Enjoy the story

*****

"Are these all the photos you got," Angus complained as he looked at the thumbnails attached to Andrea and Tamsin's report, "All I've got here is posh ladies drinking coffee together. I can't hang a story on these. How many bloody times do I have to tell you, we have to have photos, usable photos, photos of the princess with her kit off."

"And when was I supposed to take photos like that!" Andrea complained. "Maybe you can tell me, next time I'm crawling around on the floor buck naked except for a candle stuck up my arse exactly where the fuck am I supposed to hide the camera?"

"Yeah, but you weren't crawling around buck naked all the time, were you? Once you had passed this initiation you were mixing with all and sundry. Why couldn't you have gone back and got the camera then."

"Because, even then, there was no where to hide it. All I had on was the peplos, the one that they provided. It didn't come with handy pockets and, even if it had, I never got the chance to go back to the room to get the camera. It's not easy, this one. We have to be discrete and, under the circumstances, finding places to hide the camera is really difficult. We're not carrying handbags or briefcases so we can't pull the usual tricks we would use if this were a normal set up. That's why the only photos I got were when we met up for coffee this morning. At least they'll help with identifying who was there."

"OK, but remember, next time, I want usable photos, not excuses," Angus grunted and, for the moment, that seemed to be the end of the matter. He flicked back and forth a couple of times more before putting down the file.

"So, no Princess Charlotte? I don't see any mention of her. Do I gather she didn't put in an appearance?" 

"No, I kept my eyes open for her but I'm sure she wasn't there," Andrea replied

"I'm not convinced she's that keen a participant," Tamsin commented.

"Oh, and what makes you say that? Your report suggests she was pretty keen last time."

"Yeah, I didn't get any reluctance," Andrea added.

"It's just a feeling I got."

"Don't give me that 'woman's intuition' bollocks. Did she actually say anything to you to suggest she was less than keen?"

"No, no, she didn't," Tamsin confessed.

"Well, there you go then. Just because she wasn't there last night doesn't mean she won't be there at the next one. You two are just going to have to keep on getting yourselves invited to these parties until she turns up and you finally get some usable photos. Talking of which, what have you got lined up?"

"Well, there's the Scottish trip but that's not for a day or two."

"Day or two! It's not until Friday week. I can't have you waiting around that long."

"You're pretty much going to have to," Tamsin said rather more forcefully than she intended.

"And why is that?"

"Because of mother nature."

"What the hell do you mean? Why is it always problems with you two?" Angus asked with a sigh.

"Because, to put it bluntly, there are certain times of the month when playing sex games isn't an option, whether I want to or not."

"You mean you're on the blob. Well, why didn't you just say so without being all coy about it? So, if you can't get involved what are you two going to do to justify your wages until such time as you can?"

"We've got plenty of new faces to try and track down. Those photos will come in handy but, even then, it will take a while to put names to them all."

"I suppose so," Angus said reluctantly. "We've nothing else booked for the flat in the interim so I suppose you can keep on using it. But, while you're there, why don't you see if you can get some of the others to come round for tea, get you more ingratiated into the group, sort of thing. The flat is fully wired for sound and video so there should be no problems there."

"Wired for sound and video?" Tamsin asked, horrified.

"Of course it is. How else do you think we get our big exposes? Lure them in, get them relaxed and film them with their pants down. That's how it works."

"Have you been... have you been...," Tamsin simply couldn't get the words out.

"Have I been spying on you? Is that what's got your knickers in a twist. No. The recording equipment is in the cupboard by the front door and doesn't yet have links out to the office. I suggest you get up to speed with it. Give nuts and bolts a call if you can't manage."

"I'm sure we'll be able to work it out," Andrea cut in.

"Make sure you do. Then, invite a few of your new friends round for tea, start a bit of hanky-panky and Bob's your uncle."

"I thought I said that..."

"Yeah, I got it, you're on the blob. Doesn't stop you wearing that maid's outfit I coughed up so much money for, does it? What's more, being on the blob doesn't stop you rug munching or whatever it is your lot get up to."

Tamsin kept her silence, just. She bit her lip and pushed her anger back down. It was better to do that that to get entangled with Angus who was, when all was said and done, her boss. 

"Right then, off you go, girlies, and I want a report on my desk tomorrow outlining which of the club members you've identified from those photos and which of those you have invited back to the flat."

Smarting somewhat at being called 'girlies' along with everything else, Andrea and Tamsin left to make their way into town. 

"So, got any thoughts on who you're going to call?" Tamsin asked as they sat together on the tube.

"I've not that many options," Andrea replied. "Lady Mary is an obvious one. Apart from that I need to contact Otrera and I still have Euthenia's number from the puppy show thing."

"Oh, god, if we invite Lady Mary she'll be here in a shot. That woman seriously can't keep her hands to herself."

"But you've got the painters in."

"Do you think that will stop her? Mind you, the others aren't that much better. If Angus knew the real cost of this story...."

"If you think that would make any difference you must be talking about another Angus from the one that I work for," Andrea laughed. "He doesn't care what it takes to get a story as long as he gets one."

"With photos," they chorused and, for once, they laughed together.

When they got to the flat they went to the kitchen and settled down to work. Tamsin went on line to start trying to track down the other attendees at the party. Andrea got out her phone, put it in speaker mode, and started dialling.

"Lady Mary," Andrea said once she had got through. "I'm just calling to thank you for the absolutely super time I had at your soiree. It means so much that you've made me so welcome."

"Oh, you're more than welcome," Lady Mary replied. "I've had quite a few comments from the others about how refreshing it is to have a new goddess. And, as for that pretty little maid of yours, she was quite the hit of the party. Chelone, in particular, was most keen that you should attend our next get together."

"Actually, that brings me to a point I wanted to mention. I don't want to be pushy or unseemly but, if you'd like to pass the word around that, if any of the girls are up in town for any reason, then we would love to see them. There's no need to wait for club meetings, my door is always open. Please feel free to pass my mobile number around and, of course, that applies especially to you. You've made me feel so welcome. I am so eternally grateful."

"Not at all, not at all," Lady Mary replied. "Now, one moment, let me check my diary.... Yes, I thought so, I'll be up in town on Thursday. Maybe I could stop by for afternoon tea?"

"That would be delightful. I look forward to seeing you," and, with that, the chat turned to other things.

With that phone call out of the way Andrea gave Euthenia a call.

"Emma, darling, or maybe I should call you Pheme nowadays," Euthenia gushed. "So good of you to call. Wasn't that a simply splendid do last night? Lady Mary surely knows how to put on a show and I thought you were superb. Welcome to the club."

"So kind of you to say so," Andrea replied. "I was just phoning to say...."

"When's the next meet?" Euthenia cut across her. "Well, there's nothing formal for a while and I gather that you've been invited to bonny Scotland for Otrera's little get together but, in the meanwhile, we girls must do what we can. I've been chatting to Artemis, telling her all about the puppy show, and she was most insistent that we should all get together for some pony play."

"I'd love to but..., look, I won't beat about the bush, it's the wrong time of the month for my maid and I'm due on in a day or two."

"Not a problem, not a problem," Euthenia responded. "After all, we're all girls together so we do understand. Come along anyway and you can join in as much as you want, or not as the case might be. It's all up to you. How about we go for the day after tomorrow, does that work for you? And, as for that delightful little maid of yours, well, there's always a need for grooms where ponies are involved and it doesn't put that clever little tongue of hers out of action. Why don't I give Artemis a bell and then call you back later. How does that sound."

"That's... that's fine," Andrea replied, somewhat taken aback at the way Euthenia had taken over the conversation. 

"Super, absolutely super. I'll call you back in an hour or so," and the phone went dead.

"Well that was something else," Andrea commented.

"I wonder what's involved in being a groom. Pound to a penny it will end up with me getting my backside flogged," Tamsin commented. "What's more you can bet your bottom dollar the cow is going to want me to go down on her. She's as bad as Lady Mary."

"Hmm, pony play. I guess that means jodhpurs for me at least. I wonder where we get those from."

"More clothes shopping?" Tamsin laughed. 

"Might as well make the most of it. Now, that just leaves Otrera to call and we can face Angus with a clear conscience."

Andrea looked up the number and punched it into her phone. It rang a couple of times and then was picked up.

"Good morning, can I help you?" Otrera's voice gave the distinct impression that giving help was the last thing on her mind.

"Otrera, it's Pheme, from Lady Mary's do last night."

"Emma, my dear, how super to hear from you. Look, don't tell Lady Mary but I really can't be doing with all that cloak and dagger, masks and Greek name nonsense. I mean, it's her club, her rules and all that and I wouldn't dream of rocking the boat when it's a full meeting but when it's just us girls together I think we can dispense with all that twaddle, don't you?"

"Well, I wouldn't like to offend anyone...," Andrea started.

"Nor would I, nor would I, but, seeing as you're going to be a guest at my house it seems a little daft that you're not allowed to know my name. I'm Georgina McDonald," Otrera, or rather Georgina, laughed. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"I'm just working on my diary and, as it was all a little rushed yesterday, I'd like to firm up my commitments for the Scottish weekend. It looks like quite a drive, all the way up there."

"That's part of the beauty of the place, it is a long way but that just makes it far from the madding crowd and all that. Acres and acres of private land and the only thing that will disturb you is the grouse. We can have lots of fun and games without having to worry about privacy. But, for heaven's sake, don't drive. It's far too far. Your best bet is to fly. I've talked to Fiona. She will be flying up in her little plane and be delighted to give you a lift."

"Fiona?" Andrea queried.

"Fiona Bradshawe. You probably know her as Megaera. I gather you met the other night."

"Of course. These Greek names are a bit confusing, aren't they?"

"So I keep telling Lady Mary but you know what she's like. Anyway, Fiona parks her plane up at Northolt and she'll said just to arrive for eleven o'clock. She'll notify security to let you in. She did ask me to tell you not to bring too much luggage. That's the thing.

"Talking of luggage, what's the dress code?"

"We're pretty informal. On the Friday night we all dine together without any role play so smart casual for that. On the Saturday there's the game so pretty much what you would wear for a day out on the moors. Then in the evening, well, I don't want to give too much away, but um... something in leather, maybe? Sunday, well, I hope you'll stay for lunch but that's very relaxed and anything goes."

"That sounds fine. I'm agog to find out exactly what this game involves but I guess I'll have to wait."

"You will indeed. Look, I'd love to chat but I've got things to do, people to see. Can we leave it that I'll get in touch with Fiona to confirm that you'll be travelling with her and, other than that, I'll see you a week on Friday."

"Certainly, I'm really looking forward to it."

And then it was back to trying to identify those who had been at the meeting. This time they had far more to work on. Firstly they had some more real names, Fiona Bradshawe and Georgina McDonald, which reduced the detective work considerably. Secondly, the photos that Andrea had taken during morning coffee at Lady Mary's were without masks and that would also help. The list of those involved was growing considerably and, the more they unravelled, the more it became apparent that the majority of the Sisterhood were, at least nominally, married and, in a couple of cases, parents. Whereas Lady Mary and Popsy, as well as Artemis and Hipperia were 'companions' this was far from the norm for most of the couples.

"We're going to rock quite a few boats," Tamsin commented to Andrea as she finished typing up yet another file. "We could wreck quite a few marriages when we expose this lot."

"And your point is? Anyway, why should we worry? They did the deed, they deserve the payback. What's more, from what little I know of men, when they find out their wives are involved in lesbian orgies their only complaint will be that they weren't invited along to watch."

But, for all that she wasn't going to argue, Tamsin was less and less convinced by this argument. These were real people, real lives.

The next day they were still hard at it when Andrea's mobile rang. Andrea didn't recognise the number so she was cautious when she answered it.

"Hello, Emma Pearson, how can I help you?"

"Emma darling, so glad I caught you. It's Georgina here. Hermione Sergeant has a table booked for lunch at the Ivy. We'd love it if you could come down and join us."

"That's... that's very kind of you," Andrea replied. "Err... is this an invite for one or for two?"

"Oh, the two of you. This is just a girly lunch do. Nothing to get dressed up for. We're booked in for one o'clock. Can you make that?"

"I'm sure I can. I... We'd be delighted to join you."

"Perfect, see you at one."

"I'm really looking forward to it," and, with that, the call was over.

"Lunch at the Ivy, this is the life," Andrea told Tamsin gleefully. "Just wait until I tell Angus."

The taxi dropped them off in West Street just after one o'clock and they went in and asked for Hermione Sergeant's table. On Andrea's insistence they were both wearing new outfits that they had purchased on the way there. She had pointed out, with some emphasis, they couldn't turn up in the clothes they had been seen in before and they had nothing else suitable. If they were to fit in and mingle with this crowd then they would have to have the wardrobe to match. When they got there they found that although Hermione Sergeant may have booked the table it was Georgina who was acting as hostess and, with a certain amount of light hearted joshing about being unmasked, she did the introductions and made sure that they knew everyone. 

'Far more than you think,' Tamsin thought to herself. There wasn't a person around the table who she hadn't studied, hadn't read up upon. It was also slightly bizarre to consider how many had used her sexually. Across the table Augusta Frogmorton was chatting gaily to Georgina. The last time she had seen Augusta it had been as Thalia and she had been 'riding the statue' with a level of abandon that decried the fact that she was being 'punished'.

Tamsin tried to keep her head down and stay in the background. On the other hand Andrea was, as ever, being queen of the ball and playing Emma Pearson to the hilt. Because Tamsin wasn't actress enough to hide her London accent they had worked out a back story for an English Susan Ward but it wasn't anything like as detailed as that for Emma Pearson and Tamsin was reluctant to use it unless necessary. However, she couldn't stay silent forever. She was sat between Zoe Fitzwarren, who she had met as Pyrrha subbing to Otrera and Barbara Abercrombie, who she had first met as Euthenia. It was Barbara who turned to her first.




Royal Flush Ch. 07



"So, Susan, were you at school with Emma?"

"No, I'm...," this was exactly the conversation Tamsin was dreading. Still, there was no way out. "I'm British, I was born and brought up in London."

"Really, how interesting. So where did you go to school?"

"Streatham Comprehensive. I have to admit that, compared to you, I'm a bit of a mongrel. If it weren't for our shared love of dogs...."

"Love of dogs?"

"Oh, yes, that's how I met Emma."

"Really? Do tell."

"Emma was over in London for Crufts and I was working at the show. I've always loved dogs but I couldn't keep any. They don't go well with a flat in Streatham. Anyway, I was assigned to assist Emma and, what with one thing and another, when the show was over she was kind enough to invite me back to South Africa."

"How absolutely fascinating. And what does your father do in Streatham?"

"He's a school teacher. He teaches modern languages."

"Well, good for him, it must be hard keeping all those oiks in line," and, with that, Barbara turned back to the rest of the table.

"Don't worry too much about Barbara," Zoe whispered across to her. "Her grandmother was a chorus girl. Caused quite a fuss back in the day. She probably came from Streatham as well. So, tell me, you must miss your dogs like crazy. I know I do when I'm away from them for a while. I keep Retrievers, train them up for when we go shooting."

And, with that, the conversation veered off into the finer details of breeding dogs. At first Tamsin was concerned that she wouldn't be able to hold her own in such a technical conversation but she needn't have worried. Zoe was so keen to tell her new found friend all the details of the kennels she ran in Herefordshire that all Tamsin had to do was to nod wisely from time to time.

"Oh, gosh, listen to me go on and on. I must be boring you rigid," Zoe said at last.

"Not at all, not at all," Tamsin lied. "So you live in Hereford and Georgina lives in Scotland. How do you two know each other."

"Like so many of us that goes back to school days. We had a system called 'pashing'; a bit like the fagging they have in boys schools. I was a lost and lonely new girl when Georgina picked me out to pash for her and took me under her wing. We've been friends ever since. When Lady Mary started her little club it was only natural that we should be a couple."

"But didn't you mention you have a husband?"

"Oh yes, we're not that sort of friends, well, most of the time we're not." Zoe said with a sly wink. "After all, Georgina is married as well. Not that she sees that much of Julian nowadays. Ever since that dreadful mix up he's been living in Venezuela. Such a frightful bore but she doesn't seem to miss him and I'm not sure they were ever that close in the first place. Still, it does mean that the house is free for the stalking. I gather you're coming next week."

"Oh yes, I'm really looking forward to it. Mind you, I'm not sure exactly what Georgina has planned. Do you know the details?"

"If she hasn't told you then it's not my place to spoil the surprise. Now, your glass is empty. Can I top you up?"

It was all but four o'clock when the party finally began to break up. Georgina insisted on picking up the bill and the maitre'd called taxis for them all. Patience suggested that, as she and Sally were heading for Paddington, it was no problem for them to drop off Andrea and Tamsin on their way and, as such, they simply had to share a taxi. When they got in Tamsin noted that, although they were not 'playing', it was Patience and Andrea who took the main seat whilst she and Sally were left with the jump seats.

"Splendid girls, Georgina and Hermione, of course but they don't really embrace the lifestyle, if you know what I mean," Patience started once the taxi drew away. "I do feel that one's maid is one's maid and all this part time nonsense doesn't quite get the full flavour. Do you agree?"

"Well, of course, it takes all sorts but I do understand. I certainly know that my maid and I are not 'just good friends'. Our relationship isn't something we can switch on and off; it's part of what we are, a very big part."

Tamsin gathered that this was the continuation of a conversation from earlier. 

"In fact I think it would just confuse things if we were chopping and changing all the time," Andrea continued. "My maid knows her place, knows where she belongs and that's where she's happiest. It just wouldn't feel right, any other way."

"I'm so glad you agree. Do you know, I'm pretty much convinced that some of the girls only play along because of Lady Mary's little club. If it weren't for that, they would be vanilla all the way. Not that there's anything wrong with vanilla, if that's what you want."

"Yes, but one does get rather peeved but those who think that a pair of fur covered hand cuffs and barely used paddle make them experts in the lifestyle."

"You are so right. Now, I really must insist that you come down to Hampshire on Thursday. It just won't be the same without you."

"I'd love to but... the timing is a bit out. My maid is..., well, it's her time of the month and to tell you the truth, I'm due any day now."

"Yes, Barbara did mention something along those lines but you must come down anyway. There are still plenty of ways you can join in. After all, you don't stop being a Domme just because it's wrong time of the month. Bring your maid as well. We always need grooms to get the ponies ready."

"Well, if you insist," Andrea replied. "Who else will be there?"

"Barbara and Felicity are both keen to join us and Celia and her Elizabeth will probably be there as well. I'll try and arrange one more couple. Eight's a nice round number."

"Celia? I don't think..."

"Celia Molesworthy. Didn't you visit her in Bedfordshire? Of course, she would have been called Arete then. These Greek names can be such a bind but Lady Mary does insist and I'm sure you'll understand how careful we had to be until we were absolutely sure about you."

"Oh, yes, I completely understand. After all, you don't want any undesirables getting wind of things, do you?"

And, with that, the taxi pulled into the mews where the Daily Sleaze flat was located.

"Look, Patience, are you in a dreadful hurry or would you like to come up for a cup of tea? I'd love to carry on this chat," Andrea asked.

"Tea? That's very kind of you. I don't mind if I do."

Andrea paid off the taxi and they all made their way upstairs to the flat. Tamsin was trying hard to remember whether they had left it in a suitable state for random visitors but, with Andrea having made the invitation, there was not much she could do. Andrea led them into the lounge, offered Patience a seat and ordered Tamsin to go and make the tea. As soon as she entered the kitchen Tamsin saw her laptop which she had left open on the table. She hid it in one of the cupboards before filling the kettle and digging out the china tea service. She was still searching around in the cupboards when the kitchen door opened and Sally entered.

"Can I lend a hand?"

"It's not necessary."

"My boss seems to think otherwise. Here, let me." Sally took the cups and laid them out on the tray. 

"Your Patience, she seems very strict," Tamsin commented.

"She likes to come across that way," Sally replied. 

"But really..."

"Let's just say we wouldn't have been together all these years if she were just some sort of bully. She likes to play at being the mighty Domme and she likes a fair bit of control in her games but, fair enough, so do I. Do you know, I can't even remember the last time I used our safe word; I've all but forgotten what it is. And when my father died... I don't know how I would have coped if not for her. She was a real brick. Anyway, it doesn't look like your boss is much milder. She's always giving you a hard time and I seem to remember your backside being pretty well marked last time we met!"

"Point taken. I guess that's why they seem to be getting on so well together. Now, which tea would your boss prefer." Tamsin indicated the various tea packets. Sally suggested the Earl Grey and, while Sally filled the pot, Tamsin found some of the biscuits they had picked up at Fortnam's and laid them on a plate.

Together they took the tea through and laid it out on the coffee table in the lounge. Sally poured out two cups and handed one to Patience and one to Andrea. Then she knelt down next to Sally and, taking her cue from this, Tamsin knelt down next to Andrea.

"...and when you finally sort out the financial end, you must come and talk to me. I've got some contacts who can put you in the way of finding suitable kennels. You must really miss your dogs."

"Oh, I do, I do. It was heart wrenching to leave them all behind. Where I could I let them go to friends but I had such a bloodline and now it's scattered to the four winds. Now, changing the subject somewhat, you were mentioning over lunch that, what with one thing and another, you were one of the first to meet us but you still have yet to be pleasured by my maid. Maybe, if you wish, we could rectify this right now."

"What? Right now?"

"And why not. You're available, my maid is available. Carpe diem and all that." 

Patience looked like she wasn't quite sure what to say.

"Please, I insist," Andrea added.

"That's... that's very generous of you," still Patience looked more than a little taken aback. She looked down at Tamsin who carefully avoided her eye. "You're right. As you say, carpe diem. I don't mind if I do."

"Take Mistress Patience through to the bedroom and see that she's properly satisfied," Andrea ordered as if this were the most natural thing in the world. 

Inside Tamsin was seething. She hadn't understood why Andrea had invited Patience and Sally up in the first place and now this! Even Patience seemed to have been slightly shocked by the suggestion and, if I wasn't for the fact that she and Andrea seemed to be trying to out Domme each other, she would surely have refused. However, there was absolutely nothing Tamsin could do about it and, what's more, she even had to appear willing so she got to her feet.

"If you'd like to come this way." She hoped Patience couldn't tell how false her smile was as she tried to play along.

She led Patience through to the bedroom and, as soon as they entered, Patience noticed the crop and tawse that Andrea had hung on the wall. She went over, took down the crop and swished it through the air a couple of times. 

"If only, eh?" she said with a smile. "I'd have that pretty little bottom of yours tanned to perfection. Still, maybe next time."

She put the crop down on the bed and kicked off her shoes. 

"Fetch a towel, girl, fetch a towel. We don't want nasty stains all over the nice clean covers."

Tamsin nipped into the en-suite, grabbed one of the bath towels, took it back into the bedroom where she folded it up and laid it on the bed. Patience, who had by now taken off her trousers and panties, sat down on the bed and then lay back. She took the towel and positioned it under her backside. 

"Go ahead, girl, let's see if you're as good as everyone says you are." She lay back, picked up the riding crop and spread her legs.

Tamsin knelt on the floor and leant forward. She wondered about the 'as good as everyone says you are' remark. It would appear that the others were talking about her which was understandable, given the circumstances. Quite how she felt about this was another matter. On the one hand it was nice to get praise but, on the other, this cold, impersonal grading was all part of the dehumanisation. She was being praised in the same way that one might praise a "rabbit" vibrator. Worse than that, she now had the reputation of being good at oral sex. Not only was she going to have to go down on Patience but she wasn't going to be able to get away with a half arsed attempt. She slipped her arms under Patience's thighs, reached forward with her head, pushed out her tongue and eased Patience's nether lips apart.

As she worked away she got more and more angry. How dare Andrea force her into this position, offer her up without so much as a by-your-leave. And bloody Patience Armitage, for that matter. Stupid, stuck up bitch, accepting Andrea's offer as if it were no more than the tea and biscuits. 

With a start she told herself to calm down. Sure, she was angry, she was livid, but she was once again stuck in the position where she had to carry this through whether she liked it or not. If she were going to do this thing then she would have to treat it not as making love, or even as something particularly sexual but as massage. She was to massage this woman's clitoris with her tongue and, through stubborn pride, if nothing else, she was going to make the best of it.

Slowly, delicately, carefully, she eased the sex lips apart. She didn't know Patience's preferences so she'd just start gently and work upwards. She ran her tongue along the groove between the inner and outer lips, opening her up, feeling her respond. Patience took the riding crop and laid it across Tamsin's back.

"You're a little minx, do you know that? You're a naughty little girl who misbehaves just so as you can bet your bottom smacked, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Tamsin was far too busy to respond so she took the question as rhetorical.

"I remember having to give you quite a tawsing just the other day. You looked so pretty, bent over with your bottom in the air. Oh, you were acting all meek and mild but you were loving every minute of it, weren't you. I know you were; you can't hide it from me. Smack! Smack! Smack!" Patience lightly tapped the crop across Tamsin's back. "You're a naughty, sexy, little girl"

Whether it was because of her imagination or Tamsin's tongue Patience was taking next to no time to become fully aroused. Her juices were flowing and her clitoris was swollen and inflamed. Back and forth, back and forth Tamsin's tongue flick, flick, flicked, pushing her higher. Patience's continuing monologue was getting more breathless, more disjointed, although it was quite clear that the idea of spanking Tamsin's backside was the main thrust of her thoughts. It was a little bizarre for Tamsin to listen to this woman fantasise about her in this way, especially as, in Patience's world, she was a willing and complicit 'naughty little girl'. 

As her climax neared Patience started to thrash around and this made it hard for Tamsin to keep with her and keep the steady rhythm of her tongue working away. Patience's monologue became completely incoherent and was reduced to gasped phrases such as 'smack you so hard' or 'naughty little girl' and even these degenerated to demands that she do it 'like that, yes, like that, oh, god, yes, like that, oh, yes, oh, yes, oh..."

And, with an animal cry, she came, arching her back, thrusting herself at Tamsin, the climax crashing through her. For a moment or two she held this pose before collapsing back, spent, exhausted, replete. Tamsin stayed knelt between her thighs, waiting while the two of them got their breath back.

"You're not bad, not bad at all," Patience said eventually as she sat back up again. "Now, where's the little girl's room."

Tamsin directed her towards the en-suite and, while she was busy, Tamsin used some tissues to wipe down her face and then set to and made the bed. She heard the toilet flush and the sounds of running water from the sink and then Patience reappeared.

"You're a very clever girl," she said with a big smile on her face, "very clever indeed." She walked up to Tamsin and gave her a hug, a hug which seemed to surprise them both. "Thank you. Now, where did you put my clothes?"

Tamsin picked up Patience's panties from the chair where they lay, handed them over and waited while she got dressed again. Once ready they returned to the lounge where Andrea was reading the paper and Sally was knelt waiting. As they entered Tamsin could tell that the atmosphere was more than a little awkward. Whatever Andrea's motivation for setting all this up, she hadn't completely thought it through and had been left sitting in the lounge with Sally, presumably able to hear Patience's cries through the wall. 'Well, tough tittie,' Tamsin thought to herself.

"I do hope that was completely satisfactory," Andrea asked as she put the paper down.

"Oh, completely. Now, could I trouble you for another cup of tea. I'm parched."

Sally poured her Mistress another cup and gave it to Patience who sipped it eagerly.

"Is that the time," Patience asked once her cup was drained. "I'd love to stay and chat but we've got to get back and give the horses their evening feed. Would you be so kind as to call me a cab?"

And, five minutes later they were gone.

"What the fuck was that all about!" Tamsin all but screamed.

"What?" Andrea asked innocently.

"Offering me up like some sort of party favour. Oh, Patience, why don't you have my maid go down on you," Tamsin mocked. "It's all very well for you, you're not the one on her knees with her face buried between a stranger's thighs."

"For Pete's sake, calm down. I'm only doing what Angus told us to. Here, let's have a look."

To Tamsin's horror Andrea went to the cupboard next to the front door, opened it and pressed some switches on the recording equipment inside. In no time Tamsin could see herself and Patience on the screen. The camera had a fish-eye lens and was set quite high so the picture was somewhat distorted but it was quite clear what was going on.

"Oh my god! We can't let anyone see this."

"Why not? It's not as if you're the one with your kit off. Most of the time your face is obscured. Anyway, it's Patience Armitage we're after, not you. I really don't know what you're so uptight about."

"You don't see what I'm so uptight about? No, you don't, do you. Well, I've had enough for one day. Enough of the humiliation, enough of being the one on her knees. If Angus asks I've gone home sick."

And, with a slam of the door she was gone.

That night Tamsin had a long hard think about whether she could continue with this story. It just seemed to get worse and worse but, for all her distaste, for all her very real nausea at what she was being forced to do, she really did want a career in journalism and this really was an opportunity of a lifetime. If she were to go to Angus and refuse to work on the story any more she would, effectively, be killing the story, not just for her and Andrea but also for the Daily Sleaze. It was easy to see that Lady Mary's suspicions would be raised if 'Emma Pearson' were to disappear and, shortly afterwards, another new prospective club member were to arrive out of nowhere. There was so much at stake that, were she to simply walk away, Angus's wrath would know no end and her journalistic career would be over.

Two days later they were arriving at Patience Armitage's stables. They had travelled down by train to Brockenhurst where Sally had met them at the station and run them back. The Land Rover made short work of the drive to the village where Patience and Sally lived and, in no time, they were pulling up outside the front door. The house was quite impressive on it's own but, to the rear, were a number of outhouses arranged around a paved courtyard. At the opposite end from the house a gate opened out directly onto a paddock. Significantly, next to the paddock, was another field where close planted Leylandii formed a thick hedge and gave complete privacy. Although this area of the New Forest was a favourite with ramblers this layout did the utmost to minimise the risk of exposure. 

"Emma, darling! So glad you could make it. How was the journey down? The train service can be simply frightful nowadays. It's not been the same since they dropped the first class. One can end up sat next to some dreadful types. Still, you're here now. Come on in and have a sherry...."




Royal Flush Ch. 07



And, with that, Patience led Andrea away into the house. Meanwhile, Sally took Tamsin round to the back of the house and showed her around the stables. These took up one side of the courtyard and the stalls opened out onto it. Four of these were occupied. Sally took Tamsin to each horse in turn and 'introduced' her to them. She seemed to assume that Tamsin would share her passion for the animals. In fact, it was quite hard to tell where Sally's first love lay, with Patience or with the horses. She was still extolling their virtues when the back door of the house opened and Felicity Ambrose, Elizabeth fforde and Augusta Frogmorton all appeared, each carrying a holdall.

"Hi guys!" Felicity called out as they came towards them across the courtyard. "All ready for the pony show? Bright eyed and bushy tailed?"

"We're fine," Sally answered for them both. "I've just been showing Susan around the stables."

"You've been boring her with your beloved horses, you mean."

"No, really, she's been most interesting," Tamsin put in. 

"If she has then that will be a first," Felicity replied.

Tamsin could tell that this was just friendly joshing and Sally was well used to it. Indeed, it was clear there was real affection between Felicity and Sally, all part of the tangle of friendships and partnerships that made up the 'Sisterhood'. They all came together and there was a lot of air kissing.

"Well, if you're all here then I guess that it's time to get changed," Sally said after a while. We all know what happens if we're not ready when the jockeys arrive. Come along."

She led them into the body of the stables and on to the tack room which was quite crowded once they had all packed in. Those with holdalls put them on the work benches and, as if it were in no way out of the ordinary, they all started to disrobe. Sally explained that Tamsin would be acting as groom which led to expressions of sympathy from the others with comments such as 'maybe next time' or 'I was so looking forward to racing against you'. 

Tamsin quickly discovered exactly what being the 'groom' entailed. There was a clothes locker in the corner of the tack room and, as the others undressed, they passed their clothes to her to hang up them to avoid creasing. At first it was almost as if they were getting changed at the gym; they were just four women getting undressed together. However, once they were naked, it wasn't leotards they were getting changed into. 

"Susan, darling, could you possibly give me a hand with my harness?" Elizabeth asked as she hauled out a complex web of black leather strapping from her bag. Once they had untangled it Tamsin could begin to see how it all fitted together to form a 'harness' with a spider's web of straps all leading from a wide leather belt. Here and there it was fitted with 'D' rings so that the harness could, indeed, harness the pony. As Tamsin fastened the straps, Elizabeth reached into her bag and fetched out matching wrist cuffs. 

Next out of the bag was the horse's tail. The long strands looked silky but were actually quite course. Tamsin wondered if they were made from the real thing; they certainly seemed to be. At one end the strands were gathered together into a chrome ferrule which was, in turn, attached to a leather strap. It was no surprise at all to find that, on the other side of the strap, there was a butt plug similar to that fitted to her puppy tail.

"You'll find some lube in the bag," Elizabeth said with a grin. "Don't be too stingy."

She turned away from Tamsin and leant over the workbench, taking her weight on her elbows. Tamsin had had this done to her often enough but now the boot was on the other foot. She thought about just applying the lube to the butt plug. Surely that would be enough? However, in all conscience, she felt she had to do the job properly. She slipped on a latex glove from the pack in Elizabeth's bag, squeezed a good portion of lube along her forefinger, came up behind Elizabeth, reached down, and slid her finger into Elizabeth's waiting sphincter. To her consternation, Elizabeth pushed back.

"Ooh, that's nice. Make sure I'm good and slippery."

"You just like taking it up your backside," Augusta quipped. "And don't hog the groom. You're not the only one who needs to get ready."

Tamsin glanced around the tack room. Felicity and Sally were busy assisting each other and Augusta had got her harness fixed but she was holding her tail, waiting for Tamsin to help her.

"I'll be with you as soon as I'm finished here," Tamsin told her.

"Just bear in mind that if we're not all ready and in our stalls by the time the bosses arrive...."

"OK, but I don't want to rush this. I'm sure you won't want me to rush yours."

"Can I remind you that you still have your finger inside me and, nice as it feels...."

Tamsin removed her finger, reached for the tail assembly, smeared some lube over the butt plug and lined it up. As Tamsin pushed and twisted so Elizabeth pushed back and, in no time, it was slipping inside her. Even so there was a squeak followed by a sigh as the thickest part of the plug passed her sphincter until it closed around the neck, holding it tight. Elizabeth then stood up and flexed her backside, getting the plug to sit as comfortably as possible. Tamsin did up the straps at the back while Elizabeth did the ones at the front.

"How does that look?" Elizabeth asked, wiggling her backside so the tail shimmied behind her.

"Not bad, not bad at all." Tamsin replied and, in a bizarre way, it did look pretty good. As with her puppy tail, it appeared to spring from the base of the spine and cascaded down to just below the knees. The colouring was a perfect match for her hair. 

"Oh, for heaven's sake, stop showing off and let me get on," Augusta said rather brusquely. 

"I'll be right with you," Tamsin said as she stripped off the latex glove and reached for a new one. Augusta got into position and, for the second time that afternoon, Tamsin had her finger up another woman's backside.

As Tamsin fitted Augusta's tail Elizabeth was fitting herself with a bridle. The basics were a strap running around the head just above her eyes and another, crossing it, which ran under her chin and over the top of her head. From these ran numerous other straps encasing the head. From the top there was a mounting for a plume and Elizabeth fitted hers, an ornate feathery confection in bright red. The bridles were fitted with blinkers so the ponies could only look forward and, significantly, there were two short straps which jutted forward, stopping just short of either side of her mouth. 

Once the bridles were fitted a pair of pony boots made up the next piece in the jigsaw. These did not come from the high street shoe shops; they were expensive and custom made for pony wear. The basics were knee high leather boots with six inch heels but the toe of the boot had been fashioned into looking like a horses hoof. As Tamsin slipped Augusta's feet in she could see how the tightly laced leather gripped the calves and ankle, supporting them, enabling her to stand in such high heels. Tamsin was not the tallest of women and, now that the four ponies were wearing these boots, they towered over her.

However, there was one last thing to do before leading the 'ponies' to their stalls. For each one there was a bit that went between the straps either side of the mouth. This was, essentially, a hard rubber bar with chrome loops either end to which the reins could be attached. Once clipped to the straps it fitted into the mouth, not filling it as a gag would, but restricting it all the same. Sally had explained that, at this point, they effectively became ponies and 'pony rules' came into effect. Tamsin attached reins to the bits and, as the final touch, fastened their wrists behind their backs before leading them to their respective stalls. 

And then there was not much to do but wait. Reckoning that someone like Patience would be on the lookout for excuses to punish and, even as groom, she should not assume immunity, she tidied around, making sure that the tack room was spotless and even taking a broom to the main aisle of the stables. As she made her way along the aisle she could see the ponies, both equine and human, waiting patiently. She couldn't be too fast to judge, after all, she knew all about the allure of being a puppy girl, but this seemed harsher, more impersonal. Puppies got playful cuddles; what did ponies get?

She was still sweeping up when the door to the stables opened. Tamsin looked up to see the assembled Dommes coming down the central aisle. They almost pointedly refrained from noticing her as the carried on past and up to the stalls where the 'ponies' were waiting.

"This is Foxtrot," Patience announced as she opened the door, unhitched the reins and led Sally, now Foxtrot, out into the main aisle of the stables. "Why don't we hitch her up to a sulky and you can take her out to the paddock, see how she runs. Groom!" Patience turned towards Tamsin. "Fetch a sulky at once."

Tamsin's confusion must have shown on her face.

"Down the end, on the right," Patience said with some exasperation. "Hurry up, girl, we're waiting."

Tamsin went down to the end of the aisle where, in some empty stalls, there were stored a number of wheeled contraptions. She wasn't completely sure what a sulky was but two bicycle wheels either side of a seat with long shafts running forward seemed to fit the bill. She untangled it from the rest and brought it back down the aisle. Of course, the easiest way was to stand between the shafts which meant that, as she returned, she was pulling as if a pony. 

"Doesn't she look pretty between those shafts," Patience said with a little laugh. "Next time you come down I really must insist. I'm sure we can some spare tack for you and we'd have this one racing before you could say Jack Robinson. Now, come along, let's get Foxtrot harnessed."

While Tamsin held the sulky Patience led Foxtrot back between the shafts, unclipped her wrists from behind her back and refastened them to clips next to the handgrips. Andrea then sat, rather gingerly, on the seat of the sulky. Patience passed the reins over Foxtrots shoulders and handed them to Andrea. 

"OK, let's see you take her out into the paddock."

"Walk on," Andrea said, with maybe the slightest trace of nervousness and Foxtrot started off, down the aisle, left out of the door, and into the stable yard.

"What are you standing about for?" Patience said rather crossly to Tamsin. "The other ponies need harnessing as well. Go and fetch the rest of the sulkies."

For the next few minutes there was hustle and bustle as Tamsin fetched three more sulkies and the other ponies were hitched up and, one by one, taken out into the paddock. Patience was very much in charge. It was, after all, her stables, her show. 

When the last sulky had gone Patience turned to Tamsin and looked her up and down. 

"Such a shame," she said wistfully. "You'd look so good between the shafts, a pretty young thing like you, and I'd have so much fun training you. Still, maybe next time. Now," she seemed to pull herself together, "tidy up in here and, when you've finished, you'll find a hamper in the kitchen. Bring it out to the paddock, will you?"

"Of course, Ms Armitage," Tamsin replied, remembering to give a little curtsey. Patience turned on her heel and left.

Five minutes later Tamsin, satisfied that the stables were as tidy as she was going to get them, went over to the kitchen and found the hamper. It was bigger and heavier than she had anticipated and it was quite a struggle to take it all the way out to the paddock. Sweating slightly she put it down on the picnic table she found there. She looked about to see that she wasn't the only one sweating. A selection of fences and hurdles had been used to demark an oval course and the four ponies were being driven around this. Patience had, almost inevitably, a stopwatch and notebook and was keeping track of their times. As Tamsin watched Hermione came over towards them, still on the sulky pulled by Augusta, or Freckles as Tamsin was having to learn to call her. Augusta got off the sulky and came up to Patience.

"What a splendid day for it," Hermione enthused. "You couldn't ask for better. However, it seems that my Freckles is a little off the pace. A certain amount of slackness in training, I fear. I'm as much to blame as she is. Now, she could do with a wipe down. Is there a bucket and sponge available?"

"Well, is there?" Patience asked Tamsin.

"I won't be a moment," Tamsin replied.

"In the tack room, quick as you can, now," Patience said as Tamsin turned to go. 

Tamsin found the bucket and sponge in the tack room and, by the look of them, they were the ones used to wash down the real horses. Still, that was what she was asked for so that was what she fetched. A filled bucket is really quite heavy and Tamsin didn't want to spill it all so her return was significantly slower. She took it all over to where Hermione was waiting. 

"Well? Get on with it?" Hermione said firmly and Tamsin realised that, as groom, it was her job to do the wiping down. She rinsed off the sponge, squeezed out most of the water so that it would be damp, rather than sodden, and then set to work. She was unsure as to how sexual she was supposed to make this. After all, on the surface, she was supposed to treat Freckles as a real horse. On the other hand, when Tamsin was sponging down Freckles's breasts, there was no disguising the way they were responding and, when Tamsin moved further down, Hermione ordered her firmly not to forget to do between the thighs.

This time there was no pretence whatsoever. Freckles actively pushed herself against the sponge and, in response, Tamsin pushed back.

"That's enough of that," Hermione said after a while. "She hasn't earned that yet. Indeed, unless she picks up the pace a little she won't earn that at all today. Now, let me give her a drink."

Tamsin stood back while Hermione held a water bottle to Freckles's mouth. Whether she was thirsty or not she was encouraged to drink quite a bit of it. Meanwhile Barbara had pulled up along side and her pony, Strawberry, was also in need of wiping down and watering. 

And so it went on. There was quite a bit of chopping and changing as the various Dommes rode behind the various ponies, each one wanting to 'try out' the other's ponies. In between Tamsin would be called upon to wipe them down and, quite often, water them as well. There was nothing overtly sexual but the wiping down, especially if done by one of the Dommes, was getting more and more obvious and there were strong undercurrents everywhere.

Come four o'clock and Patience announced that it was time for afternoon tea. Under her direction Tamsin took the hamper out from under the table and took from it a number of cakes, biscuits and petit fours which were laid out on plates on the table. Then she was sent to the kitchen where all the bits and pieces for making tea had been left out ready for her. Ten minutes later she was carefully carrying the tray laden down with teapots and cups, all in the finest china. When she entered the paddock she found the Dommes sat around the picnic table while the ponies, now unhitched from the sulkies, were knelt on the ground. The bits had been removed from their mouths and their hands fastened behind their backs. She put the tray down and, encouraged by Patience, poured out tea all round.

Whilst the Dommes were drinking tea Tamsin was ordered to feed and water the ponies. They were fed the same cakes and pastries that the Dommes were eating but, rather than tea they were being given water from bottles that were stored in the hamper. 

"So what have you got planned for the rest of the afternoon?" Hermione asked. She had reached down and was idly playing with Freckles's nipple as she knelt beside her. "I mean, this has been lots of fun and all but...."

"My dear, the best things come to those who wait," Patience replied, haughtily.

"That's all very well but I'm with Hermione on this one," Barbara put in. "A couple of hours spent watching pretty ponies' backsides has given me an appetite, and not just for sticky buns and tea. I've got an itch that needs scratching. Here we are with four very sexy ponies, and all we're going to do is drive them round and round. Surely we can do better than that."

"Well, if you really can't wait," Patience replied rather peevishly, "there's nothing stopping you taking one of the ponies for a quick run back to the stables. Or maybe right here, in front of us all, if your 'itch' is that urgent. What I was actually planning was a bit of racing with, maybe, a few incentives to spice things up a bit."

"What sort of incentives?"

"Oh, I don't know. A dozen stripes for the loser, half a dozen for third, and something rather more pleasant for first and second. What do you think?"

"So it's more of the same with a few smacked bottoms to round things off? Isn't that just the same as we did last time? Seriously, Patience, I know that pony play is your thing but we're not all quite as fanatical."

"What about you, Celia? I know you like to do things properly."

"If we're going to have a pony show then I feel we ought to have a pony show," Celia replied. "We ought to do things properly. We've come all this way and it would be a shame not to make the most of it."

"And that just leaves Emma; what do you think?" Patience asked.

"Err... I'm the new girl here and I really don't want to offend anyone but, for what it's worth, I'm with Patience. Her house, her rules, sort of thing. But maybe we can compromise. Sure, lets have some races but surely there's time for other activities as well."

"How about we all drive each other's ponies and the winning rider in each heat gets to take that pony to the stables?" Barbara suggested. "As an added incentive, the losing pony gets, I don't know, half a dozen with the crop."

"And how do you propose to select the ponies? Car keys in a bowl, maybe?" Patience said caustically.

"Maybe not that, but I agree with the principle," Hermione put in. "Come on, Patience, let's have a little fun."

"Fun...," Patience Armitage looked exasperated. It was clear that she was losing the argument and it was clear that she was unhappy about it. "Well, if that's the way you feel then I guess we will have to compromise. So how are we going to chose who rides which pony."

"Give me your notepad," Elizabeth asked. Patience handed it over and Elizabeth tore out four pages. On each page she wrote the name of a pony and then folded it up tightly. These she put on a plate which she held out.

"Car keys in a bowl," Patience muttered but she reached out and took one all the same. "It looks like I've got Freckles. Groom, get her back in harness, will you."

While Tamsin reharnessed Freckles to the sulky the other Dommes were selecting their ponies. Racing against Patience was Celia being pulled by Strawberry. Once they were both ready Tamsin led the ponies to the start line, Hermione put them under starter's orders and they were off. 

In an odd, rather juvenile way, it was quite fun watching the ponies pull the sulkies around the track. The boots gave them a rather awkward gait which meant that grace and posture were more important than sheer strength and neither pony was an expert. In the end it was Patience who won and Tamsin led the two ponies, puffing from exhaustion, back to the picnic table.

"Well, are you going to take your reward?" Celia asked rather pointedly as she got up out of the sulky.

"I'd rather not," Patience replied, also dismounting.

"Come on, you're the winner, or do you want to wait and watch Strawberry get her smacking?"

"No, it's not that, I'd just rather not," Patience said, rather shortly.




Royal Flush Ch. 07



"Suit yourself. Now then, groom, take Strawberry over to...," she looked about her, "that hurdle over there and she can have her reward."

Tamsin unfastened Strawberry from the sulky and led her over to the hurdle. Strawberry's hands, or should that be forehooves, had not been fastened behind her back so she leant forward and grasped the top of the hurdle. Celia took her riding crop and, with the minimum of ceremony, laid six stripes across Strawberry's backside. Tamsin was all too aware of how much the riding crop could sting but it was plain that Celia was acting more for effect than to cause any real pain.

And so the afternoon progressed. It was noticeable that, unlike Patience, the other Dommes had no reluctance to claim their prizes and were regularly scuttling back and forth to the stables. However, the earlier differences had cast a shadow over everything and there was less enthusiasm than there might have been. In fact, all were quite happy when, after the fourth race, Celia suggested that it was time for her to return to London.

"Sorry to be a party pooper and all, but I've things to do. Barbara, sweetie, can I give you girls a lift?"

"That would be super."

"I ought to be off as well," Hermione put in. 

"What about you, Emma, are you leaving me as well or can I tempt you to stay and dine with me?"

"Dine with you? If you're sure."

"Certainly. You'll have to take pot luck, of course, but stay and eat and then Sally can run you back to Brockenhurst in time to catch the nine forty. That gets into Waterloo about half eleven. How does that sound?"

"Splendid! I'd be delighted."

"Well then, I guess we had best get these ponies sorted out. Groom, take them back to the stables."

As the Dommes trooped back to the house Tamsin led the ponies back to the stables. As soon as they were inside she unhitched them from the sulkies and, from there, they were able to look after themselves. They all crowded into the tack room and started to remove the pony gear.

"Your Patience is a bore, do you know that," Felicity said rather crossly.

"How do you mean?" Sally asked defensively.

"We spend all this money on pony gear and troop all the way down here and, if she had her way, it would have been nothing more exciting than school sports day."

"That's a little unfair. Just because she takes it seriously...."

"Seriously! This is supposed to be fun, not serious. I don't want serious, I want to have a good time, to enjoy myself."

"You just don't understand her."

"No, I guess I don't, but I'm not sure she understands me either. Look, sorry Sally, I know you love her but she can be a bit much at times."

Sally didn't reply and the atmosphere in the tack room felt distinctly awkward. Fortunately it wasn't long before they were all changed and Elizabeth, Augusta and Felicity were heading back to the house. Sally and Tamsin were left busy tidying around in the tack room. Sally was putting her pony gear in the locker when Tamsin heard her sniff.

"Are you OK?" Tamsin asked.

"It's just...." Sally turned round and Tamsin could see the tears in her eyes. "I was so looking forward to today, and I know Patience was as well. We wanted it to be perfect, perfect for you and Emma. We had it all worked out and then... and then they went and ruined it. They don't understand, nobody understands. It's not just a silly game, it's part of who we are. They just want to treat it as another excuse for a bit of hanky panky and a chance to sleep around a bit. Patience and I, we're not like that."

"Your Patience was quick enough to tan my backside first time we met and what about the other day, up in London?"

"I guess it's all about where you draw the line. A bit of spanking is one thing and, when your Emma offered, well, it would have been rude to have refused, wouldn't it. We're not prudes but, well, it just doesn't feel right with anyone else."

"I can understand that," Tamsin said softly. And, curiously enough, she did. She wasn't particularly taken with pony play but she knew that when they had had their puppy show there was a disjoint between the way she had felt and the way the others seemed to feel about it. Again, it had been Barbara and Felicity who had been the most frivolous, who were only mucking about. The only one who had really understood had been Princess Charlotte, or was that wishful thinking? She gave Sally a hug.

"Sorry about that, silly of me," Sally said, pulling away from the hug. "Now, it's time I did the evening rounds. Do you want to come with me?"

Tamsin wasn't particularly taken with the idea of going around feeding the horses but it would have been churlish in the extreme to have refused. 

As they went from stall to stall Sally's disappointment was lost under her enthusiasm for her charges. However, Tamsin's professional curiosity had been piqued by this obvious rift within the Hellenic Sisterhood. 

"So you and Patience, you've been together since school, then?" she asked.

"Well, not entirely. Mummy and daddy decided I should go to finishing school in Switzerland for a while and, after that, we had the most awful row when I told them I was going to train as a vet. They all but threw me out and that's when Patience.... She's always been there when I needed her. Then, when her parents died in that awful accident and she inherited this place, well, I wouldn't want to live anywhere else, would I?"

"You sound very happy."

"Oh, we are. I know it's not exactly conventional but we're as happy as Larry, both of us. I look after her and she looks after me." Sally turned to Tamsin and gave her a great big beaming smile. "I'm so glad you understand. It's not everyone who does. That's why Patience was so keen to have you on board. Some of the others..."

"Like Barbara and Felicity," Tamsin prompted.

"They're splendid girls and all and I won't hear a word said against them but... well, lets say they're part of the reason we don't go to as many meetings as we used to. All they want to do is muck around; they don't take any of it seriously. That spoils it for the rest of us, well, for Patience and myself, anyway. Now, that's the horses finished. Come on in and you can help me get dinner ready."

They went back to the house and into the kitchen. Sally seemed more relaxed, happier than Tamsin had ever seen her. 

"I've got some lovely Marris Peers fresh in from the garden," she said, handing over a colander full to the brim of potatoes. "They just need washing and any bad bits taking out. Would you mind?"

"No, not in the slightest. I'm not much of a cook but I can do that for you."

As Tamsin set to washing the potatoes Sally got out her pots and pans and started preparing a couple of pheasants. It wasn't long before the kitchen was filled with delicious aromas.

"There's one thing I don't quite understand," Tamsin said after a while. "If the likes of Barbara and Felicity aren't really into the D/s thing why do they come along? What's all the goddesses and handmaidens thing about?"

"Oh, that's all Lady Mary's doing. It goes back to when we were at school. We had this system called 'pashing', a bit like fagging."

"Oh, yes, Zoe told me about that."

"Well, when Lady Mary started the sisterhood all the older girls got to be goddesses. Then they wanted to bring their pashes along and, well, we couldn't be goddesses so we became handmaidens. Silly really but you know what it's like at that age. Back then it was all awfully innocent. We thought we were so daring, secret meetings in the middle of the night, special code words, all that sort of thing. As we grew up, so did the games. Mind you, without Lady Mary, the whole thing would have fallen apart ages ago. She's the one who chivvies us to the meetings. She's the one who still insists on the goddesses and handmaidens thing. I think she just wants to keep the old school days going. Now, if you've finished the spuds how are you at shelling peas?"

"One last question," Tamsin said as she started in on the peas, "was that really Princess Charlotte I met when we were up at Celia's house in Bedfordshire?"

"You're not to call her that! When she's with us her name is Charlie, she hates it if you get all formal on her. Yes, poor darling, she turns up from time to time."

"Poor darling?"

"Oh, haven't you heard? Of course, there's no way you would have done. They managed to keep it completely under wraps. Thank god the press never found out. You know what absolute pests they can be. Still, least said, soonest mended. That's all in the past now. How are the peas doing? I'll be wanting to put them on the gas in a moment?"

Tamsin, sensitive to the way that Sally had clammed up, decided not to push it any further. She knew she ought to. That was exactly the sort of gossip that Angus would love. What's more, she was interested on her own account. 

The meal was almost ready and Tamsin wondered if she and Sally were going to have to play at being waitresses but, to her relief, Patience announced that they were going to dine informally and they ended up, the four of them, sat around the kitchen table. Tamsin and Sally were suitably quiet and respectful but, from the outside, it was just four women enjoying a meal together.

"I do apologise for this afternoon," Patience said, after a while. "It can be so hard to find others that share one's particular... obsessions, even among your best friends"

"There's no need to apologise, no need at all," Andrea replied. "I do understand."

"If it it weren't for a sense of loyalty towards Lady Mary... I'm sorry, I must sound like a spoilt child. We either play the game my way or not at all, sort of thing."

"No, really, I do understand. Your relationship with Sally is like mine with Susan; it's a very large part of what we are and when others don't take it seriously, they appear to mock, and, in doing so, they mock us."

"They do indeed. Now, you must have some more of this wine. It really is rather good." Patience reached, once more, for the decanter.

"What a day," Andrea said to Tamsin as they settled down in the train back to London. "But we made some headway."

"With you sucking up to your new best friend, Patience Armitage. You two were getting on like a house on fire. 'We are the only ones who fully understand the lifestyle; oh, Patience, I do so agree'," Tamsin mimicked.

"I'm just establishing our trust. What about you; what did you find out?"

"More than I really want to know about the care and treatment of horses. Sally is a sweetie but she's more than a bit obsessed."

"Yeah, and what bloody use is that to us?"

"And then she told me all about 'pashing', how this lot, in one way or another, goes all the way back to when they were all at school together."

"Well, we knew that already. Still, at least it's something to tell Angus, keep him off our backs."

And, as the train rattled north, Tamsin wondered why she never mentioned that Sally had let slip something about some 'trouble' that Princess Charlotte had been in. Part of her wanted to use it to crow over Andrea, to show that she could find things out as well but... but... As a reporter, exposing the high and mighty's dirty washing ought to be her bread and butter. Why did it feel so wrong? 'I'll wait until I know more about it.' she told herself.



Royal Flush Ch. 08



****** Please Read This First *******

I know, I know, I usually don't bother with the disclaimer bits either. Blah, blah, blah, over 18, blah, blah, blah, don't read if easily offended, blah, blah, blah. But, just this once, please bear with me and read this one.

Firstly, this is chapter eight of ten and the story will only make sense if you read it from the start. If you haven't already done so then I sincerely urge you stop and go to chapter one. It will be better that way, honest.

Secondly, this is a work of fiction and all the characters are completely fictional. In particular, one of the main characters is Princess Charlotte who is, according to chapter one, "about tenth in line for the throne". Now, in real life, there can only be one person who holds that position but this story is not real life and it's definitely not about her. 

Princess Charlotte is not a real person and any resemblance is purely coincidental. Before I get carted off to live out what is left of the rest of my life in the Tower Of London, I want to stress that this story is set in a parallel universe where Britain has a very different Royal family with a very different line of succession.

Thirdly, briefly but importantly, my heartfelt thanks to all those who have helped so much. Especial mention must go to, in no particular order, V and OneWhoAdores.

Fourthly, once again, I fall neatly between the BDSM and Lesbian Love categories. This story centres on a BDSM club and much of the action has a BDSM theme. However, it's a bit short on the whips and chains to really be a BDSM story. On the other hand those looking for a lesbian themed story may well end up complaining, as a critic once did, that my stories always seem to feature a D/s relationship. This one is no exception; its a lesbian love story with BDSM overtones. If this is not what you're looking for stop reading now. That's kinder than voting one star because it wasn't what you were after.

Lastly, this is a story of deception and subterfuge. Most of the characters have at least two names, many three or even four. To help the reader keep track each chapter will start with a dramatis personae. 

The list for this chapter is:-

*Andrea, a journalist, masquerading as Emma Pearson from Paarl
*Tamsin, another journalist, masquerading as Susan Ward, Emma Pearson's sub
*Georgina McDonald, owner of a Dun Luid, a Scottish castle, along with her sub Zoe Fitzwarren
*Angela Noble along with her sub Justina Crawford
*Fiona Bradshawe along with her sub Maggie Withenshawe
*Barbara Abercrombie along with her sub, Felicity Ambrose
*Princess Charlotte, a princess, known to her friends as Charlie.
*Henrietta Snape along with her sub Frances Albermarle
*Roberta Frogmorton along with her sub Sophia Sutton
*Bridie, housekeeper at Dun Luid, along with her 'help', Rowena and Jessie.

Enjoy the story

*****

The Beechcraft G58 circled around as Fiona lined up for the approach. Tamsin, for whom flying was purgatory, looked out of the window at the diminutive field that was to be their landing strip. She could see that there was another plane already parked up so it looked like they were not the first to arrive. Like so many Londoners, Tamsin's definition of the "far north" was anything past Scratchwood Services on the M1 so it had been quite an eye opener to find out just how far they had had to fly and, even with a comfort break somewhere near Glasgow, the flight had seemed to have gone on forever. However, she had to admit, as they traversed the highlands of Scotland, the scenery had had a majestic beauty that England simply couldn't match.

They had all met up that morning at Northholt airport on the A40 just outside London and, apart from Tamsin, they had all enjoyed the flight. Champagne had been opened and passed around and Andrea, as ever, was in the thick of it, busy being queen of the ball. Tamsin, on the other hand, was actually quite glad that her travel sickness gave her an excuse from joining in. Of course, as she and Andrea were playing their full time D/s relationship to the hilt, a quiet, submissive attitude fitted in just fine.

By comparison, their travelling companions, Barbara and Felicity, although nominally a D/s couple with Felicity as the sub, showed no sign that their relationship was anything more than very good friends. It was harder to gauge their exact relationship between Fiona and Maggie who sat up front but, like Barbara and Felicity, they came across as friends rather than anything deeper. Indeed, unless you knew better, the whole party just looked like a bunch of over-privileged Sloanes on their way to yet another party.

Tamsin's stomach lurched matching what, to her jaundiced eye, were the wild and uncontrolled lurches of the plane as it came in to land. It was all she could do to keep her breakfast down. Surely they were too low, surely they would never clear those trees... look out for those trees... oh my god those trees.... 

With the ease of much practice, Fiona lined up the plane and brought her in nice and smoothly over the coppice of Douglas firs that marked the end of the runway. The wind was all but non-existent and the weather was perfect so she was justifiably proud of the gentle touch down and the smooth and easy way she taxied over to where Henrietta's Cessna was already parked. She pulled up, applied the brakes and, as her passengers sorted themselves out in the back, started on her post flight check list.

As soon as they stopped a Land Rover, which had been waiting by the entrance to the field, drove over, parked up alongside, and Georgina leapt out looking rather tweedy.

"Darlings! Absolutely super to see you all. How was the flight? Not too ghastly, I hope. Isn't this weather glorious? According to the BBC it's set in for the weekend so it should be just perfect for tomorrow. Henrietta and her crowd flew in a couple of hours back so, now that you're here, we're just missing Roberta and Sophia. It's going to be a bit tight in the Landie so we'll have to throw all your bags in the trailer and then we can work out who goes where. I'm sure you won't mind all squeezing in together."

Behind the Land Rover there was, indeed, a trailer which, by the state of it, was well used around the estate. It was a good job that it was there as the Land Rover was a short wheelbase Series III and it was quite clear that, as Georgina had pointed out, there wasn't going to be room for all of them and their luggage inside. They took the bags from the plane and put them in the trailer but even so there wasn't enough space for them all in the back. 

"Susan can go in the trailer with the rest of the baggage," Andrea suggested. "Just joking, dear," she added quickly when she saw the general reaction. "Still, it would make sense and you could easily arrange the bags into seats."

"I'd rather walk," Tamsin replied.

"No you wouldn't. It's miles. Come on, I'll jump in with you," Justina put in. "It will be a laugh."

Although Justina's 'miles' had been an exaggeration it was quite a way from the landing field to the house and the track was unpaved so, aware of her passengers bouncing around behind her, Georgina took it very slowly, hardly going above walking pace. This meant that Tamsin had plenty of time to look around her. The track worked its way up a wooded valley and the scenery really was breathtaking.

"Lovely, isn't it?" Justina commented. "Wait until you see the house."

Tamsin was about to come back with a comment on 'how the other half live' except, of course, as far as Justina was concerned, she was 'the other half'. Instead she asked "isn't it a bit big, just for her alone?"

"But what else can Georgina do? She can't sell the place. Strictly speaking it's not even hers and it's not as if she needs the money. I suppose she could turn it into some sort of hotel but that would mean having the place overrun by ghastly Americans wishing to bag a ten pointer and it would never be the same. She was once persuaded to rent it out to a film company but they left an awful mess and, in the end, I'm not sure she felt it was worth it."

"But... but how does she look after it?"

"The house or the estate?"

"Well, both, I suppose."

"Fundamentally she's the biggest employer in the area. If it weren't for her no one in the village would have a job. The locals are pretty dependent on her."

Pondering the rather feudal nature of the rural Scottish economy Tamsin settled back and enjoyed the view.

The house, when they got there, did not have had quite the grandeur of Lady Mary's place down in Surrey but it was a solid edifice in red granite and still pretty imposing. The Land Rover drew up outside the front door where they were met by a middle aged woman and two teenage girls in maid's uniforms. Georgina jumped out of the Land Rover and started organising everyone. It turned out that the woman was Bridie, the housekeeper and that the teenagers, Rowena and Jessie, were girls from the local village helping out for the weekend. Andrea and Tamsin joined the others in sorting out their luggage from the trailer and Rowena led them up to their room.

"Bloody hell! What a place! I mean, just look at the size of that bed!" Andrea exclaimed once Rowena had left.

The four poster was, indeed, the biggest bed that Tamsin had ever seen and, when she tried it out, one of the most comfortable. However, they didn't have time to hang around. Georgina had chided Fiona for arriving so late and, insisted that, after a few minutes to unpack and freshen up they should come back downstairs for afternoon tea.

The rest of the day was spent relaxing. The south facing garden had been designed to act as a sun trap and, in view of the exceptional weather, there was no better place to serve the tea. Rowena and Jessie brought everything out and laid it on the garden tables. Even after the last scone had been eaten and the last cup of lapsang souchong drained it seemed a shame to go back indoors which meant that they were all still outside when a light aircraft came flying overhead. The plane dipped low and waggled its wing tips at them before heading off down the valley towards the landing field.

"That'll be Roberta and Sophia," Barbara commented. "Roberta always has to show off like that. Maybe we should..." but Georgina was already heading for the door so as to drive down to the landing field to meet them.

Thirty minutes later, Barbara was proven right. Georgina rejoined the party in the garden and, five minutes later, Roberta Frogmorton and Sophia Sutton, who Andrea and Tamsin had met at their initiation as Panatis and Hosea, arrived as well. However, it turned out that they weren't the only ones in the plane. Right behind them, unmasked and unmistakable, was Princess Charlotte.

"Charlie! I didn't know you were joining us," Angela called out and, indeed, there was a great deal of delighted surprise among the group. Princess Charlotte, in return, looked shyly pleased. 

"Well, you know how persuasive Georgina can be," she said with a little laugh. "Told me that I had to be here or else."

"Or else what?"

"She didn't make that entirely clear but I'm pretty sure I didn't want to find out." This raised another laugh.

"Emma, darling, I don't know if you remember Roberta and Sophia." Georgina was, as ever, the perfect hostess. "Or maybe I should say Panatis and Hosea?"

"It was all a bit of a whirl, that night, and my Greek mythology is a bit weak so I did find it hard to keep track of who was who but yes, of course, I remember. It's lovely to see you again," Andrea gushed. Tamsin just smiled sweetly. 

"Oh, Lady Mary, she just loves all those Greek names," Roberta joked. "I can barely remember who I am, let alone any one else. Now, Emma and Susan, isn't it. Delighted to meet you again."

"And this is Charlie," Georgina added.

There was a short, but unmistakable, awkward pause. Andrea really didn't know whether she was supposed to acknowledge having met Princess Charlotte before and how she was now supposed to address her.

"Oh, Emma, Susan and I all met at Celia's place in Bedfordshire," Princess Charlotte put in, breaking the awkwardness. "What a splendid afternoon that was. I did enjoy meeting you both. It's lovely to have some new faces around, especially ones who fit so well into our little circle. So, how have we all been? It's great to be back in Scotland again." 

That broke the ice and they all relaxed again. There was a certain amount of air kissing as Roberta, Sophie and Charlie made their way around the assembled friends and then it all settled down, fifteen women, chatting together in the garden. Tamsin, playing to her submissive role, kept in the background, wandering off on the pretence of admiring the roses while watching the proceedings as an observer, not as a participant. She was, therefore, a bit disconcerted, when Princess Charlotte, who she was learning to think of as Charlie, came over towards her.

"They're beautiful, aren't they? Georgina is so clever to get them to grow so well this far north."

"Yes, yes, they're very pretty," Tamsin replied. She felt unsettled and more than a trifle awkward. This was the Princess, this was the target, this was the person she was supposed to entrap. According to the plan she should be using cunning subterfuge to worm secrets out of her. But that wasn't the problem. How are you supposed to react towards someone when your only previous interaction has been puppy girl sex, when you've been so intimate yet never exchanged a word? Blushing she turned back to the flowers.

"I was... I was rather hoping you would be here. I'll admit, that's part of the reason why I came at all. It's just... well... we didn't get much chance to talk back in Bedfordshire." Charlie gave a little smile. "So, tell me all about yourself, tell me, how are you finding London? It must be a bit strange after Paarl."

"I'm... I'm used to it. I was born there, In Streatham."

"Streatham, South London?"

"That's the one. Sunnyhill Road, just off the High Street."

"So, for you, it was more like coming home. Even so, it must have been an awful wrench leaving all your dogs behind. Emma has told me all about how you used to breed Rhodesian Ridgebacks. It must have been simply dreadful having to say goodbye to them all."

"It would have been worse if we hadn't managed to find good homes for them all."

"But that's not the point, is it. Good homes or not, you must miss them. Sorry, I'm being rather thoughtless."

"No, it's OK, you're right, I do miss them but, what with one thing or another, it was time to move on."

"Even so, it does seem such a shame. At least moving back to England means you get to see more of your family."

"Yes, that's so. My mum was heart broken when I moved out there and now she's delighted to see me back again. I got to see her on her birthday for once," Tamsin extemporised. 

Tamsin looked about them. Somehow, without actually deciding to, they seemed to have drifted off into one of the quieter bits of the garden. They could still hear the chatter coming from the others and they were still in sight but, suddenly, it was as if they were on their own.

Tamsin looked at Princess Charlotte and saw her looking straight back at her. She knew that they were both thinking about the last time they were alone in a garden together and, it wasn't just the about the sex. Tamsin felt an overwhelming urge to touch, and be touched. But most of all she wanted to tell Princess Charlotte the truth. All that stuff about missing the dogs had been nonsense. She wasn't Susan Ward, nor was she in any sort of relationship with Emma Pearson, who wasn't even Emma Pearson. She looked away again and, for sake of anything else to do, plucked a rose and studied its petals.

"I'm sorry, I've upset you, talking about your dogs. I can see that. Please, forgive me."

"It's not.... it's not..." Tamsin had to fight to bite back the words. How could she go in lying like this? Again their eyes met. Again there was this sense of something between them, something that neither could express.

"Ah, Charlie, there you are. I've been looking all over. Do you mind, Susan, can I steal Charlie away from you?" Georgina had appeared out of nowhere and, with that, she whisked Princess Charlotte away leaving Tamsin standing wondering what had just happened. Their little chat had left her shaking. She hadn't got Andrea's self confidence, nor her carefully worked out back story and lying to the Princess had been so much harder than she had ever thought it would be.

The evening meal was a rather grand affair. Tamsin had seen fifteen people sat around the same table before but that had been an overcrowded fiasco at a once tried, never repeated, Christmas party when an over enthusiastic uncle had invited everyone around for dinner. By contrast, the massive oak table in the baronial dining hall could seat fifteen with ease and, rather than aunts and cousins bustling back and forth, it was Bridie assisted by Rowena and Jessie who was serving at table. The four course meal proceeded at a leisurely pace and it was gone ten when, with coffee and brandies, they all retired to the drawing room and Rowena and Jessie were dismissed for the night.

"Now the staff have retired we can get down to business," Georgina said, getting up out of her chair and going to stand in front of the fireplace. On the way she had gone to the sideboard where she had picked up a black velvet bag about the size of a pillowcase. 

"Welcome, ladies, to the Dun Luid annual stalk. Now is the moment of truth, now is the time when we decide who gets to be a stalker and who gets to be prey. But first, for the benefit of Emma and Susan, and Sophia who was so forgetful last year," this raised a round of laughter, "a quick reminder of the rules.

"In this bag there are fifteen snooker balls. Ten of them are red, the other five are the orange, yellow, blue, brown and green. We will each, in turn, take a ball out from the bag and show it to the others. Anyone choosing a red ball is designated 'prey', any other colour, 'stalker'. Anyone deemed to be cheating, yes, Fiona, I'm looking at you, will automatically become prey. 

"Tomorrow, after lunch, all those designated as 'prey' will be driven out to the far side of Loch Luid where they will be divested of any clothing apart from their shoes and socks. They will also be issued with a pair of safety goggles. I know they're not exactly Prada but please don't forget to wear them. I don't want to have to explain to Dr. McKenzie how one of my guests got paint in her eyes, especially if you have paint everywhere else as well. After being dropped off the prey will then have one half hour in which to disperse. Please, please, please keep within the deer fence to the north and west and go no further down the valley than the house. Let's not have any more accidental sightings, eh, Felicity.

"Meanwhile the five 'stalkers' will be issued with paintball guns. Each gun will be loaded with different colour paint matching the snooker ball they selected. The stalkers will then drive out to the old ghillie hut at the north edge of Loch Luid which will be the centre for all stalking activities. From there they will disperse in search of the prey.

"Any prey hit on any part of the body becomes captured. Should two stalkers bag the same prey at the same time then the one whose paint is nearer to the heart is deemed the winner. The stalker must then take the captured prey back to the old ghillie hut where they will be corralled. At the end of the day, or when all the prey are captured, we will all return to the house where the prey will remain the exclusive property of their captors until sunrise, Sunday morning. In case you're wondering, sunrise at this time of the year is about four thirty when we'll probably all be tucked up in our beds, well, in someone's bed, anyway. After that, any arrangements are strictly between yourselves but please bear in mind that Bridie and the girls will be serving breakfast at nine in the morning so, for heavens sake, when you come downstairs, be discrete.




Royal Flush Ch. 08



"Should any of the prey remain at large come five thirty, then a long blast from an air horn will be used to indicate that the hunt is over. Those prey not captured become stalkers and, any stalkers without a capture become their prey. If need be we can sort out any final details at the time.

"Now, has anyone got any questions? No questions? In which case, Charlie, let's start with you."

She went over to Charlie and held out the bag. Charlie reached inside and pulled out one of the balls. With a wry smile she held it up so all could see it was red; she was one of the prey. Then Georgina carried on around the room and, one by one, they chose their destiny. There were lots of cheers and groans, depending on the colour selected but no one seemed particularly upset either way. In particular, Felicity, who was sat on Barbara's knee, gave a squeal of delight when she picked out the blue ball while Barbara picked one of the reds. As this went on Tamsin tried to imagine Patience Armitage playing this game and, somehow, she couldn't picture it.

And then it was their turn. Andrea went first, and, with a cry of triumph, extracted the yellow ball. When Tamsin reached inside she hardly needed to look at what she pulled out, of course it was one of the reds.

And then it was down to the last ball. Even before Georgina had pulled it out simple maths said that she had to be one of the stalkers. The other four coloured balls had gone to Andrea, Felicity, Justina and Roberta but that still left the orange ball unchosen and it had to be the one left in the bag.

"You're loving this, aren't you?" Tamsin said rather bitterly to Andrea when, with evening over, they had returned to their room and now lay in bed keeping as far away from each other as possible. Andrea was wearing an oversize tee shirt, Tamsin rather more conventional pyjamas. 

"What's not to love? Here we are living the high life and, more importantly, zeroing in for the kill. In case you hadn't noticed that was Princess Charlotte downstairs and, what's more, she's one of the prey. I'm going to do my utmost to catch her and then...."

"And then what?"

"And then it's photo time. Look, Tamsin, shape up, this is it, this is the main event. Even if I don't manage to catch her one of the others surely will and she'll end up as one of the 'slaves'. That means lots of fun and games tomorrow night featuring Princess Charlotte in the altogether and that, in turn, means that there's a pretty good chance we can come away from this with lots and lots of exactly the sort of photographs Angus wants. Let's suppose I do manage to catch her. That would mean I'd be in control of her and I can have her pose any way I want. After that you can just see the headlines. Princess Royal in Highland Lesbian Orgy. The piece practically writes itself. We're there! We've made it!"

"I suppose so."

"You suppose so. God, you're a wet blanket. Cheer up, for fuck's sake. Remember, this is supposed to be fun. Now, we both need to be on top form tomorrow. Let's get some sleep."

Around nine in the morning Tamsin and Andrea drifted down to the dining room for breakfast which, laid on by Bridie, was a full Scottish at its best. All around them the others were tucking in with gusto but Tamsin found that she didn't have much of an appetite. She went over to the sideboard and poked around in the warming trays, trying to find something that wouldn't rest heavy on her stomach.

"For fuck's sake cheer up," Andrea whispered to her. "We're supposed to be really looking forward to this. At least try and look like you're enjoying it."

Tamsin had no reply to this. Andrea was right, of course, and, among the others, there was an air of expectancy and lots of comments about how lucky they were with the continuing fine weather. Tamsin, on the other hand, was finding it increasingly hard to play along. It wasn't so much the stalk that bothered her; that was no worse than the other indignities she had had to suffer. It was more the close proximity to those she was about to stab in the back. Whilst her political views on money and privilege hadn't changed in any fundamental way, now she was actually meeting the enemy, they came across as disarmingly human. Even those she considered spoilt brats who needed to grow up, Felicity Ambrose and Barbara Abercrombie being the most notable examples, weren't actually bad people. No, if anyone was 'bad' it was her, the snake in the grass, the betrayer. Still, Andrea's point was valid so she pinned on a smile, selected enough of the breakfast so as not to insult Bridie, took it over to the table and sat down.

"Good morning, did we all sleep well?" Charlie, having helped herself to a selection from the sideboard, came over and sat down at the table. "Looks like we have the perfect weather for it. Are you all excited? I know that I am."

"I'm still wondering exactly how it's going to go," Andrea replied. "It's all right for you lot, you've all done this before. Susan and I won't know the area."

"Oh, that won't matter. It's fun, really, it's fun. Just you wait and see. What about you, Susan, are you looking forward to it?"

"I'm a little apprehensive," Tamsin admitted.

"Oh, you've no need to be. We're all friends here. No one is going to make you do anything you don't want to. Isn't that right, Sophia?"

Sophia, who, like Charlie, had just helped herself to a full breakfast, smiled as she sat down beside them all.

"Well, there was that one time.... No, only joking, Charlie is dead right. After all, if it wasn't fun we wouldn't keep coming back here year after year. I remember last time, I was caught by Zoe and the little minx had me tied up in knots before the day was over. I was hoping to get my own back but it seems like I'm prey again."

"And this year I'm joining you," Zoe said as she too joined the breakfast party. "Ooh, pass the Worcestershire sauce, will you?"

There was plenty of good natured joshing and a certain amount of reminiscing and it was quite clear that this was an event that everyone, stalkers and prey alike, looked forward to. 

Eventually breakfast was cleared away and, with the continued good weather, they all drifted out into the garden to enjoy the sunshine. It was around eleven thirty when Bridie came out and went up to Georgina.

"That's the minibus come to take me away on the staff outing so I'll be off. Now, I've left you a cold lunch but you're to look after yourselves in the evening. I'll be back for your breakfasts at eight thirty so don't let me find any mess in my kitchen." 

"Don't worry, Bridie, we'll keep it spotless for you. Thanks for lunch and have a good time in Inverness."

"Just you mind my kitchen, young lady," and, with that, she was off.

Now that Bridie had left there was a certain amount of relaxation. Nothing too overt, that was all still waiting on the stalk to actually start, but it was like a schoolroom when the teacher is called away. In particular, the stalk was becoming more and more the topic of conversation now that there was no danger of being interrupted. 

"I never thought I would say this in Scotland but with all this sunshine our prey are going to need some protection. Better safe than sorry, after all," Georgina commented. "Zoe, be a dear and fetch the bottles of sun cream from our room, would you?"

Zoe disappeared into the house returning moments later with several bottles of Piz Buin which she put on the garden table. She then set the ball rolling by slipping off her sundress and bra, reaching for one of the bottles and, naked except for her shoes and panties, starting to apply the cream. 

"Come on, guys," she called out. "Don't just stand there. Last prey naked is a wus!"

Prompted by this Fiona and Maggie were first to join but it wasn't long before all the prey were stripping off and passing the bottles around. Tamsin, prompted by Andrea, knew that she too had to join in so she got up from where she was sat, went over and started to undress. She was wearing the sun dress they had bought for her when they went to Lady Mary's which was easy to take off so she shrugged her way out of it and laid over the back of a lawn chair.

"Shall I do your back for you?"

Tamsin turned and there was Charlie, standing there with a bottle of sun cream in her hand.

"If you wouldn't mind."

"This is so much easier with two," Charlie said as she smoothed the cream over Tamsin's back. Tamsin looked around her and saw that all the others were also pairing up. Some of the pairs were natural, Henrietta and Frances as well as Fiona and Maggie, were couples anyway, but some had just turned to the nearest person. Most, like Zoe, had kept their panties on but, one by one, they were being discarded in the quest to cover every inch with sun cream. "After all," Angela commented as she took Sophia's panties off, "we won't be wearing them when the time comes."

For, once they had started on each other's backs, it was generally felt that there was no reason to stop there and that it was easier to do each others legs as well. Just how much this was practicality and how much part of the pre-stalk mood was moot. The whole episode was turning increasingly frisky and applying the sunscreen was a good excuse to raise the temperature. It would have been churlish and out of role not to have joined in which meant that Tamsin found herself knelt on the grass ready to work on Charlie's legs. This was almost too much. She remembered the last time she had been knelt before Charlie, or should that be Princess Charlotte when she was in this position. However, she had to push that to one side and, as casually as possible, get on with the task in hand. 

Remaining casual was far from easy. She squeezed some cream out onto the palm of her hand and started to sooth it into Charlie's calves. This, in itself, was deliciously erotic and, as she moved higher it just got hotter. She looked up and smiled shyly and the smile she received in return told her that any feelings she might have were completely mutual. She squeezed out some more cream and was, by now, working around the top of Charlie's thighs. If she were to continue then....

"Shall I take these off?" Charlie asked, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her panties.

"Err... let me." Tamsin reached up, took hold of either side of Charlie's panties and pulled them down, letting Charlie step out of them. She tossed the panties onto a chair already laden with discarded clothes and turned back to her work. Charlie looked so perfect and it was all Tamsin could do to stop herself leaning forward and giving a little kiss. Just one, surely that wouldn't matter. In the sexually charged atmosphere that filled the garden at that moment she wasn't sure anyone would even notice. However, she had to pretend that this was just for sun protection so she set to work on Charlie's hips and buttocks. 

"You missed a bit," Charlie said once Tamsin had finished. She took the bottle of Piz Buin from Tamsin, squeezed some out onto her finger tips and massaged it into her groin. "That's better. We don't want any sunburn down there, do we? Now, come along, it's time I returned the favour."

Now it was Tamsin's turn to stand while Charlie knelt in front of her and applied the cream. This seemed slightly wrong to Tamsin. Sure, this wasn't the first time Charlie had applied sun cream on her but that had been with her as a puppy girl and she had been the one on her knees. However, it didn't seem to bother Charlie and, unlike Tamsin, Charlie was less covert about the sexual angle of what they were doing. She wasn't just applying the cream, she was massaging it in and her hands felt truly wonderful. Tamsin closed her eyes so as to savour the sensations. If only... if only....

It seemed to Tamsin that it was mere moments before Charlie reached the point where her panties were getting in the way and, without asking, Charlie hooked her fingers into the waistband and pulled them down. This brought Tamsin back to the here and now. She looked down, exchanged smiles with Charlie and stepped out of her panties so that they too could join the pile on the chair. Charlie then set to applying the cream to Tamsin's hips and buttocks and, when the time came, to Tamsin's crotch as well. However, there was only so much she could do under cover of applying the cream, and, truth be told, only so much Tamsin wanted her to do with so many others around. Even so it felt like all too soon before they were finished. 

Tamsin looked about her. It hadn't quite been an orgy and everyone had been careful to keep the sexual aspect under control but it was quite clear from the flushed faces of all involved, not to mention the five spectators, how much this had been some sort of foreplay before the main event.

"I think it's time for lunch," Georgina announced. "Zoe, dear, can you organise laying the table? I'm assuming we all want to eat out here on such a lovely day."

"Come on girls; if we all help it will take no time at all," Zoe said as she headed for the house. All the prey followed and, to Tamsin's slight dismay, none of them seemed to feel any need to get dressed again. Indeed, they seemed to be revelling in their nudity and, as if to emphasise the point, Fiona went over, picked up the pile of discarded dresses and took them into the house. It would appear that, by getting undressed, there was an unspoken understanding that the game had now started. The ten prey were to remain naked, fetching the meal and waiting upon the five remaining stalkers.

As Zoe had suggested, with ten of them helping, it hardly took a moment to fetch the cold luncheon that Bridie had made for them and bring it through to the garden where they laid it out on the patio tables. Again Zoe led the way, by going to Georgina, curtseying and asking if she could fetch anything for 'Mistress' Georgina. Despite the fact that it stuck in her craw to do so, Tamsin felt that she had to follow suit and went over to Andrea to ask what she would like.

"Nice bit of schmooze with the princess," Andrea said quietly after Tamsin had fetched her a loaded dinner plate. "You've got that coy act down to a fine art. I saw you rubbing in the old suncream. I didn't think you had it in you."

Tamsin just looked at Andrea. And then she twigged what she had meant. Apparently she thought that, while applying the sun cream, Tamsin had been flirting with Charlie so as to entrap her. The idea that there might actually be something between them was so inconceivable to Andrea that she had completely missed it. Mind you, Tamsin was a long way from sure exactly what, if anything, there was between them. 

Tamsin went back and loaded a plate for herself and, following the example of the others, went back and sat on the grass beside Andrea so as to eat it. As she did so she looked about her at the other prey. They all seemed so much more self assured about being naked. But then, as far as Tamsin was concerned, they had reason to be. They all seemed to have so much more grace and poise. Moreover, each and every one of them sported the sort of tan you only get with regular holidays to the sunnier places on earth. By comparison, the last holiday Tamsin had gone on was a wet week under canvas in the Lake District at the behest of a lover who enjoyed that sort of thing.

And then Charlie caught her eye and they exchanged smiles. Suddenly Tamsin felt a lot better.

"Well, much as I'm sure we would all like to lie here all afternoon," Georgina said after a while, "time is getting on. Maybe if we could have the dishes cleared away and then all prey to meet outside the front door in thirty minutes. How does that sound?"

There were all round murmurs of assent. 

"Well, we had better get on with it then. Roberta, darling, can I call upon you to drive the other Land Rover?"

Thirty minutes didn't leave that much time for doing the all the clearing away and stacking the dishwasher but, with the ten of them working together, the work got done and they were all on time, ready and waiting outside the front of the house. Now the excitement was palpable. Two Land Rovers came around from the stables and parked up in front of them; Georgina driving one, Roberta, the other. Georgina got out and stood before them holding a bundle of protective goggles in her hand.

"Ladies, your carriage awaits," she announced as she handed out the goggles. "Jump in the back and hang on tight. It's quite a bumpy ride and we don't want any accidents. Once we are past the loch I will stop every couple of hundred yards or so and get one of you to jump out. That way we'll get a good distribution of prey across the moors. Remember, don't forget to wear your goggles, please don't cross the deer proof fence and don't come back past the house. Any questions? No? OK, jump in!"

The prey all bundled in and they were off.

The loch was half a mile or so up a rough track and, even with Georgina driving quite slowly, they were all having to hang on tightly as they were thrown around in the back. It soon became apparent that, as well as hanging on to the Land Rover, it was best if they hung on to each other. This caused a certain amount of girlish giggling and Zoe used it as an excuse to openly play with Maggie's breasts.

Once they were past the loch Georgina stopped the Land Rover. No one was keen to go first but Georgina turned round and called out, "come on, some one. Fiona, you're at the back. You're first. Out you get."

Fiona jumped over the tailgate of the Land Rover, put on her goggles and, after looking around for a moment or two, headed towards a small copse. Two hundred yards later it was Sophia's turn and, after that, Tamsin got out. 

Tamsin felt alone and incredibly exposed. The Land Rover was busy heading off up the track and, in the other direction, she could see Sophia making her way through the heather. She had to get off the track, that much was obvious but where should she head for? There was sparse woodland bordering the burn which fed the loch but that wouldn't give much cover and woodland seemed a little obvious as a place to hide. On the other hand the moors appeared featureless. However, the bracken was about knee high and, if she lay on her belly, she could remain out of sight. Picking a sheep track at random, she headed off away from the track.

She had gone maybe two hundred yards or so when the path, quite suddenly, dropped down into a gully. A small stream had cut its way through the peat and left a trench several feet deep. Compared to pushing through the bracken this would be easy walking and she could get even further from the track. With a bit of luck she might even survive until five thirty! Her competitive streak came to the fore and she felt she could beat this thing, so she left the sheep track and made her way along the gully, splashing occasionally in the stream. After what seemed like forever, but was probably only five minutes or so, she had had enough. This would be her hiding place. It was out of sight from the track and, she felt, sufficiently off the beaten path. What was more, sticking out of the side of the gully was a large, flat rock. Perfect! Just the place to sit and wait.

She had found herself a nice little sun trap and, out of the wind, it really was quite warm. She sat back and, leaning against the bank, she let her eyes close. She hadn't really slept last night. Andrea had been snoring all night but that was just an excuse; she wasn't sleeping well most nights nowadays. She would toss and turn trying to reconcile herself to what she had got herself into. Andrea and Angus seemed to have no qualms at all. If only she could say the same. On the other hand, here she should be safe for a little while and it really was very peaceful and, even on the unforgiving rock, quite comfortable.

She closed her eyes, just for a moment or two.




Royal Flush Ch. 08



"Susan! Susan! Wake up!"

"Please, five minutes, just five minutes more."

Tamsin was just about to roll over and go back to sleep when she remembered where she was. She sat up and tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes only to be frustrated by the goggles. Standing between her and the sun was another of the prey but, back lit like that and with the sleep still in her eyes....

"Charlie?"

"Looks like we both had the same idea. Is there room for another on that rock of yours?"

"Of course; be my guest." Tamsin shifted over to one side and patted the rock next to her.

Charlie sat down next to her. There wasn't much room so they ended up wedged together.

"Are you sure you're OK with this. There's not really room for the two of us. I could go and find another spot, if you want."

"No! No, please, I'm.... Sorry, I'm a bit dense when I've just woken up. Please, I'd love it if you stayed." Tamsin shifted further across and, once again, they both tried to get comfortable but the rock was an unforgiving surface. "Look, why don't we both try and find another spot? Somewhere where we can relax a bit."

"You looked pretty relaxed before I blundered in and disturbed you but, OK, let's go upstream a bit."

They stood up and, with Charlie taking the lead, they made their way up the stream. A hundred yards further on they found just the spot. A bend in the stream had left a little ledge, not much, maybe six feet long and four feet at its widest, but the local sheep had cropped the grass to a comfortable sward. "This is perfect," Charlie announced as she lay down full stretch. "Come and join me."

Tamsin looked down at Charlie lying there and knew that she had never seen anyone so beautiful in her life. She had to fight off the urge to leap, to throw caution to the winds, to blow her cover, to blow everything, just so as she could lie beside her without any pretence. As it was she got down gingerly and lay as far away as she could without actually falling in the river. And then the bank crumbled a bit and she would have fallen had not Charlie reached out and grabbed her.

"Come here. I won't bite, honest."

'Oh, bite me, bite me, please!' Tamsin fought back the urge to cry out and all that escaped was a muffled squeak as she allowed herself to be pulled back from the edge.

They lay, side by side in the sunshine, mere inches apart and with Charlie's arm still holding Tamsin from falling into the stream. Tamsin picked up a twig from grass and fiddled with it; anything to distract her from her desire to lean forward and kiss. Charlie smiled at her and, nervously, Tamsin smiled back. But there was something she had to know, something she had to settle. She was pretty sure; she had researched the princess pretty thoroughly, but she had to hear this one direct from the source.

"Charlie, can I ask... can I ask you a really personal question?"

"Go ahead."

"When we met at Celia's house in Bedfordshire you were on your own. Now, here, you're on your own. Someone like you, surely...."

"Why haven't I got a significant other?"

Tamsin saw the shadow cross Charlie's face.

"I'm sorry. I should never have asked. It was ever so rude of me. Please, forgive me."

"It's OK. It's just that... well, there was but there isn't any more."

"I'm really sorry. Please, I've upset you, I really didn't mean to."

"You weren't to know. Seriously, it's OK, really it is. Now, give me a hug and make it better."

Without waiting for an answer, Charlie gathered Tamsin in and they lay, wrapped in each others arms.

"She was called Jocasta," Charlie quietly muttered after a while. "She was..."

They broke from the hug and lay there, face to face again.

"I thought that she was the one," Charlie continued. "You know that feeling. Suddenly it's spring all over. You've never met anyone so completely perfect. I'm pretty sure she felt the same way but, poor thing, she couldn't take the strain."

"The strain?"

"People... people in my position... we have to be careful. There are always reporters, everywhere, every bloody where. Reporters with their busy little cameras. Snap, snap, snap, snap snap. If you put one foot out of line then the next thing you know you're on the front page of the Daily Sleaze. It started to go wrong for Jocasta when we got snapped holding hands as we came out of my place in London and the next day the picture is in the papers with a suggestive tag-line. Not much, absolutely nothing about how we were lovers or anything, but it really upset her.

"And then we went on holiday together. We thought the beach was private but with these long lenses they have nowadays nowhere is really safe. It wasn't much. Just a rather blurred picture of us lying on the beach together but we were both topless and it was enough to make Jocasta nervous.

"We managed to get the story buried but it was never the same after that. She started to become obsessed, seeing reporters everywhere every time we tried to go out together. She all but refused to be seen together in public. I could cope with it. I have done all my life, I was born to it but, for poor Jocasta, it just seemed to get worse and worse and worse.

"And then, one day, it was my birthday and, as a special treat, I'd finally persuaded her to conquer her fears and go out with me. It was a lovely little place, so private and discrete and I thought it was all going swimmingly. However, we must have been spotted because, as we came out of the restaurant, there was some damn paparazzi waiting for us and he all but shoved his camera in Jocasta's face. She freaked out completely and really went for him. Fortunately I had people with me but I had to pull all the strings I had to keep her out of court. Part of the deal was that she had to spend some time away and, after that, she said she couldn't bare to see me any more. That was a couple of years ago. Last thing I heard she'd emigrated to Canada and married some chap who breeds horses.

"Fuck them! Fuck them all, each and every one of them! Damn reporters, blood sucking leeches that ruin people's lives. And the really stupid thing about it all was that, all along, no one had the slightest clue that there was anything between us, even after the topless photos. What a waste, what a fucking waste." The uncharacteristic bad language brought home the intensity of Charlie's feelings.

"That must have been awful for you."

"After all this time I still miss her. The guys have all been great and Georgina keeps insisting I have to turn up at these sorts of things to get me out of myself but I'm not sure it's working. Still, it gave me a chance to meet you."

Tamsin looked down to hide her blushes.

"Gosh, I'm sorry, that must have sounded like I'm coming on to you. I didn't mean just you, I meant the two of you, you and Emma."

Tamsin looked at Charlie and smiled shyly. It had sounded exactly like she was coming on to her and that had been a problem, but just not in quite the way that Charlie had thought.

There was another long silence between them; neither could say what she wanted, both were prepared to settle for the companionship of lying together.

"I'm beginning to wish we didn't have to play this silly game," Charlie admitted after a while. "I could just stay here all afternoon. It's so peaceful."

"I know what you mean," Tamsin replied with the understatement of the year. If only Charlie knew how fervently her wish was shared by Tamsin. If only she knew. 

Tamsin rolled over onto her back. Partially she wanted to soak up the sun. Partially it had been just too intense, lying that close to Charlie without being able to do anything about it. As she did so her right arm was over the edge of the little cliff that separated the ledge from the stream. She let it drop and her hand dangled in the water. It was cool and refreshing but, more than that, it woke a playful little daemon within her. She lifted her hand up, out of the water, and flicked her fingers in the direction of Charlie's breasts. 

"What the...!" Charlie sat up and brushed the drops of water off her.

With a grin that would have put the Cheshire cat to shame Tamsin scooped up some more water and tossed it over Charlie.

"Come here, you little minx!" Charlie turned on Tamsin who tried to escape but that made the edge of the ledge collapse beneath her and, in a cascade of peat and bodies, they both tumbled into the stream with Charlie very much on top. The water was only a couple of inches deep so there was no danger of drowning but it was still quite cold and Tamsin was very definitely in it. The tables were now very much turned with Charlie straddled her victim, pinning her down.

"You little minx! Say that your sorry; say 'sorry, Charlie'."

"Won't."

Charlie let go of Tamsin just long enough to scoop some water out of the stream and splash it over Tamsin's face causing Tamsin to shriek in a mixture of surprise and laughter."

"Say 'sorry, Charlie' or I'll do it again."

"Won't, won't, won't, won't, won't," Tamsin recited as if on the playground.

"Will, will, will, will, will," Charlie replied in kind, once more splashing water all over Tamsin's face.

"Make me."

"Don't tempt me."

"Go on, make me."

"If you won't say you're sorry I'll have to...." Charlie leant forward and kissed Tamsin on the tip of her nose. And then again, and then....

Their mouths met and, for a long, long moment, Tamsin knew she was in heaven. This was what she had wanted, ever since that afternoon in Bedfordshire and it was surpassing every expectation. 

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Charlie said, suddenly pulling back. "That was so inappropriate of me. I really didn't... please, can we just... please, Susan, forgive me."

By now Charlie was standing up and getting out of the stream. In the blink of an eye Tamsin had gone from heaven to hell. Suddenly the water seemed icy cold and there were a million awkwardly shaped stones pressing into her back. She too stood up and, as she did so, the water from her wet hair streamed down her back.

"Please, Charlie, it's OK, really, it's OK."

"No, it's not OK. I should never have kissed you. I wasn't thinking."

"It was my fault, I never should have splashed you."

For a moment they just stood there, Charlie on the ledge, Tamsin still stood in the stream. Tamsin could see that Charlie was genuinely hurting. How quickly a little fun, just mucking about, had turned into such acute embarrassment. Tamsin wanted so much to tell her, to explain, that the kiss, far from being inappropriate had been the most appropriate thing that had ever happened to her.

But there were no words, no words that would explain, especially now, when any explanation would, inevitably, also expose Tamsin as one of the enemy, one of the blood sucking leaches that ruin peoples lives.

"You poor thing, you're soaked. Are you OK?" Charlie asked, noticeably changing the subject. "Here, come on out of the water." Charlie reached out her hand and, although the ledge was mere inches higher than the stream, Tamsin took it as she stepped up. They were standing there, facing each other, wondering what came next when there was a splatting sound and Charlie cried out, reaching for her buttocks. When she brought her hand back it was covered in green paint. Tamsin had just time to turn before she too was hit, a stinging sensation and a burst of green paint hitting her just above her hips. 

"Gotcha! Got the both of you," Roberta stood up out of the bracken, still with the paintball gun aimed directly at them. "Now stay there while I come and claim you."

Roberta came galumphing along the edge of the gulley and then half scrambled, half fell down the side to end up a few feet downstream. As she came up to Charlie and Tamsin she was reaching into a canvas bag she had across her shoulder and when her hand reappeared she was holding two sets of wrist cuffs. 

"Turn round, face the cliff," she ordered.

They did so and, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl caught in the act, Tamsin glanced sideways and saw Charlie looking back at her. As their wrists were bound behind their backs they shared a wry smile. Maybe they had been captured but at least this got them out of the awkwardness that the kiss had landed them in.

It turned out that it wasn't only wrist cuffs that Roberta had in her bag. She ordered them to hold their head up and, moments later, Charlie and then Tamsin found themselves being collared.

"There, that's better," Roberta said once the buckles had been fastened. "Now everyone can see that you're mine. Charlie, what a piece of luck. And, as for you, Susan, I've been hoping to bag you from the first moment I saw you. The others are going to be so jealous. Now turn round and face me." 

The last thing out of her pockets was a pair of leashes which she attached to the collars. If put to the test they wouldn't have really stopped Charlie or Tamsin from running away but it was the symbolism that counted. It was the same with the paint gun which she cradled under one arm. She almost certainly wasn't going to use it again but it reinforced the sense of being captured. Then, with her two captives walking before her, they started on the long walk back to the ghillie's cottage.

"You'd have been fine if you'd just kept quiet," Roberta commented as they made their way through the bracken. "I was on my way to that copse over there when I heard you. If it wasn't for all the noise you were making I'd have walked straight past. It's as if you wanted to get captured."

Charlie and Tamsin just trudged on down the sheep track.



Royal Flush Ch. 09



****** Please Read This First *******

I know, I know, I usually don't bother with the disclaimer bits either. Blah, blah, blah, over 18, blah, blah, blah, don't read if easily offended, blah, blah, blah. But, just this once, please bear with me and read this one.

Firstly, this is chapter nine of ten and the story will only make sense if you read it from the start. If you haven't already done so then I sincerely urge you stop and go to chapter one. It will be better that way, honest.

Secondly, this is a work of fiction and all the characters are completely fictional. In particular, one of the main characters is Princess Charlotte who is, according to chapter one, "about tenth in line for the throne". Now, in real life, there can only be one person who holds that position but this story is not real life and it's definitely not about her. 

Princess Charlotte is not a real person and any resemblance is purely coincidental. Before I get carted off to live out what is left of the rest of my life in the Tower Of London, I want to stress that this story is set in a parallel universe where Britain has a very different Royal family with a very different line of succession.

Thirdly, briefly but importantly, my heartfelt thanks to all those who have helped so much. Especial mention must go to, in no particular order, V and OneWhoAdores.

Fourthly, once again, I fall neatly between the BDSM and Lesbian Love categories. This story centres on a BDSM club and much of the action has a BDSM theme. However, it's a bit short on the whips and chains to really be a BDSM story. On the other hand those looking for a lesbian themed story may well end up complaining, as a critic once did, that my stories always seem to feature a D/s relationship. This one is no exception; its a lesbian love story with BDSM overtones. If this is not what you're looking for stop reading now. That's kinder than voting one star because it wasn't what you were after.

Lastly, this is a story of deception and subterfuge. Most of the characters have at least two names, many three or even four. To help the reader keep track each chapter will start with a dramatis personae. 

The list for this chapter is:-

*Andrea, a journalist, masquerading as Emma Pearson from Paarl
*Tamsin, another journalist, masquerading as Susan Ward, Emma Pearson's sub
*Georgina McDonald, owner of a Dun Luid, a Scottish castle, along with her sub Zoe Fitzwarren
*Angela Noble along with her sub Justina Crawford
*Fiona Bradshawe along with her sub Maggie Withenshawe
*Barbara Abercrombie along with her sub, Felicity Ambrose
*Princess Charlotte, a princess, known to her friends as Charlie.
*Henrietta Snape along with her sub Frances Albermarle
*Roberta Frogmorton along with her sub Sophia Sutton

Enjoy the story

*****

When they got the ghillie's cottage they found that they weren't the first, not by a long chalk. Five of the ten prey were already there, corralled in a disused sheep pen. At first it looked as if they were just sitting there but, as they got closer Tamsin could see that each of the captured prey were held by a leather ankle cuff attached to a length of chain that had been pegged across the turf for just this purpose. Roberta led Tamsin and Charlie into the pen and had them sit down so that they were now the next two in line. They were to sit, like the others, on the turf and, like the others, their wrists remained cuffed behind them. At least Roberta had finally removed their goggles which had begun to pinch.

When Roberta left to resume her stalk Charlie and Tamsin settled down to chat with the rest of the prey. From the splashes of paint and the selection of collars it was clear that there was quite a distribution across the Dommes. Only Felicity's blue was, so far missing. 

And it wasn't long before that was remedied. As with Roberta, Felicity had caught two prey at once and she was obviously proud of having both Fiona and Zoe walking in front of her. They were added to the group in the sheep pen and this made nine prey in all, sitting and waiting and only one ankle cuff left empty. By process of elimination they worked out that Maggie was the only prey still at large and there was speculation as to how long she could remain free. However, after quite a wait, but long before the deadline, it was Georgina who appeared with Maggie in tow.

"...eight, nine, ten. Well, that seems to be a full house. I'll recall the others," Georgina said counting heads. She went to to where the Land Rovers were parked up, found the air horn and, standing up on the roof of one of the cabs, pressed the button, turning back and forth so that the sound echoed off the surrounding hills.

One by one the stalkers returned and it was time for the reckoning. The 'prey' became 'slaves' and, from the collars and paint splashes, it was easy to sort out who 'belonged' to whom. Whether by luck or good fortune, Felicity, Justina and Roberta had all bagged two each. Andrea had only managed one while Georgina had three to her name. There was a certain amount of good natured banter about how Felicity, who normally took a submissive role, had captured Fiona, normally one of the Dommes.

There was also some joking about how pretty the slaves looked all chained in a row and how it might be good to have them march back to the house like some sort of chain gang. Given the distance this was just joking and after removing all cuffs from the slaves they were herded over to the Land Rovers and, with Georgina taking the wheel of one and Justina the other, they climbed aboard and drove back to the house. 

Charlie and Tamsin weren't the only ones to have got a bit muddy and, of course, all of the slaves had splashes of paint all over them so there was quite a bit of cleaning up to be done when they got back. Similarly, the stalkers, now Dommes, wanted to change into something more suitable for the evening ahead. As such it was agreed that all shoes would be removed before entering the house and each Domme would take her 'slaves' up to her room to get cleaned up. 

"Right, it's just short of four thirty," Georgina said, looking at her watch. "Let's agree to meet back downstairs for six o'clock. That should give everyone plenty of time to get ready. Agreed?"

There was general assent and Roberta ordered Charlie and Tamsin upstairs to her room which, like the one assigned to Andrea and Tamsin was spacious and well appointed.

"Right, you two, I need you both fresh and clean before you can serve me properly," she said imperiously once they got there. "Get in the shower and get cleaned off."

"Both of us?" Charlie asked.

"That should be 'both of us, Mistress?' and yes, both of you. Oh, and make it good, I want to watch."

It said something about the sumptuousness of Dun Luid that the three of them could fit easily into the en suite at the same time. Despite the antiquity of the castle the rooms had all been refurbished to the latest standards and the en suite was designed as a 'wet room' with an open shower. Charlie and Tamsin removed their collars, turned on the taps, adjusted the water temperature, and got in under the shower.

Once under the jets they were both somewhat self-conscious. Roberta was expecting some sort of show. She had ordered them into the shower and was now leant back against the washbasin watching. Tamsin could imagine the likes of Felicity or Popsy really getting off on performing like this and she remembered how, back at the initiation ceremony, she and Augusta had been ordered to give a show for Hermione. However, after the events back at the burn, she was reluctant to initiate anything. She reached for the shower gel, poured out a generous dollop, and smeared it against herself.

"I think Roberta is expecting me to do that for you," Charlie came up close and whispered in her ear. "Do you mind?"

Mind? How could she possibly mind? Charlie had taken yet more gel and was massaging it into her body in the most sensual way possible and, surely, Tamsin was supposed to reciprocate. She returned Charlie's caress and felt her respond, sharing the sensuality of soapy bodies under a hot shower. Of course, this was OK, this was only a show for Roberta, this wasn't the real thing at all.

That didn't stop it from feeling real. 

That didn't stop it from being real.

But much as she loved the feel of Charlie's body against hers, much as she wanted to savour every inch, to melt together under the warm flow of the shower, she couldn't help but be repulsed at the way this was for another's enjoyment. As she shared caress for caress, she wanted, she ached, to express physically an emotional attachment that seemed to have sprung from nowhere but also seemed to bind them together. She wondered if she should kiss Charlie; she wondered if she dare kiss Charlie. However, she held herself back. For Tamsin a kiss was far more erotic, far more revealing, far more intimate than the way she was currently soaping Charlie's nipples. 

"Wow, you two look so hot! But I'm not going to let you have all the fun. I'm going to join in and you had better not forget which one of us is in charge."

Roberta went back into the bedroom and returned moments later completely naked. She came in, under the shower and slid in between them. Charlie and Tamsin, in their role as slaves, had to pamper to her, both washing her and, naturally, caressing her. Charlie was behind her, reaching round and caressing her breasts and Tamsin was in front, massaging shower gel into her tummy when Roberta put her hands on Tamsin's shoulders and pushed downwards. 

The shower floor was hard on Tamsin's knees and Roberta's groin tasted mostly of soap so this was hardly conducive to Tamsin's enjoyment. However, there was no way out so, as ever, she set too with a will. Even so, every time she tried to breath, she kept getting a mouth full of water and, in the end, even Roberta realised this wasn't really working. She turned off the water and reached for the towels. When they were all dried off she picked up the collars from the washstand and ordered Charlie and Tamsin to follow her through to the bedroom. She sat down on the bed and ordered Charlie and Tamsin to kneel before her.

"You two are going to be my little slaves for the evening and, while you are, I'm going to call you 'a' and 'b'. You," she reached down to Charlie and fastened the collar around her neck, "are 'a' and you," she repeated this for Tamsin, "are 'b'. Now then, tell me your names."

"I am 'a', Mistress," Charlie replied.

"And I am 'b', Mistress."

"Very good. 'b', I'd like a gin and tonic. Go and fetch one. 'a', tidy up in the en-suite and then you can help me get dressed."

Tamsin set off looking for where she could find a gin and tonic. She headed downstairs where, luckily, she came across Zoe on a similar mission. Zoe led her though to the drawing room and showed her the well stocked drinks cabinet had all that Tamsin could need.

By the time she returned to Roberta's bedroom she found Roberta sat at the dressing table dressed in a light chemise and with Charlie busy applying a crimson nail varnish to her fingernails.

"Is that my drink? Just put it there. One moment, 'b', what is this?" Roberta pointed to the edge of the glass where Tamsin had garnished the drink.

"It's a slice of lemon, Mistress."

"Lemon! Oh, dear. How frightfully naughty of you. I take lime, not lemon. You really ought to know that."

"I'm sorry, Mistress, I'll go and change it."

"Oh, I don't think that will be necessary this time but maybe you need a little reminder to help you get it right next time. 'a', I can't be spanking anyone while my nails are still wet. You will have to do it for me. Finish the nail you're working on and then give 'b' six spanks on each buttock. Over the knee will do."

"Certainly, Mistress."

Charlie finished off the nail and stood up. As she came towards Tamsin she raised her eyebrows. She seemed to share Tamsin's feelings on how silly this all was and it was all Tamsin could do to stop herself from giggling. Still, they had both agreed to the rules and a mild spanking wasn't anything that they could reasonably object to. Charlie sat down on the edge of the bed and patted her thighs.

Encouraged by Charlie's attitude, Tamsin lay down across her lap in the time honoured fashion. Under other circumstances she wouldn't have particularly minded this. She would never, ever, be a lover of real pain but a little light spanking as part of foreplay; let no one call her a prude. On the other hand she was back with the problem that this wasn't between Charlie and her, however much they might like it to be. This was purely a sex show for Roberta's amusement.

Smack, smack, smack, smack! Charlie set to but almost immediately Roberta cut in.

"No, no, no. She's not a child. Proper smacks. Believe me, if I have to do it myself then I'll have to include you as well. Here, have a hairbrush. Maybe that will help."

Roberta handed over her hairbrush from the dressing table and Charlie set to work once more. This time she was considerably harder and, in addition, Tamsin played up to this, kicking and screaming as if she were having the beating of a lifetime. Apparently this display, along with the reddening of Tamsin's buttocks, was enough to satisfy Roberta.

Then it was back to waiting on Roberta hand and foot, quite literally in Tamsin's case as she was assigned to re-varnish Roberta's toenails while Charlie returned to work on her fingernails. Charlie already had a head start and was finished well before Tamsin had completed one set of toenails so Roberta ordered Charlie to help Tamsin and so ended up with her two 'slaves' knelt before her, each working on her toenails. 

"How pretty the two of you look," Roberta commented once they had finished. Now, how shall we pass the time while we wait for my nails to dry. 'b', why don't you finish off what you started in the shower. That will be just the thing to get me in the mood." 

Roberta went over sat on the bed with her legs dangling over the edge. She pulled up the hem of her chemise, opened her legs and gave Tamsin a 'get on with it' look. Tamsin got down on her knees and, with Charlie watching, leant forward and kissed the inside of Roberta's thighs. Roberta lay back with a sigh and ordered Charlie to lie down beside her and kiss her breasts.

For Tamsin, knelt on the floor between yet another set of all but anonymous thighs, this was everything she had come to loathe about this assignment. It wasn't the sex, exactly; she liked to think of herself as pretty open-minded in that direction. It was more the anonymity of it all. Roberta had no interest in her as a person, she was merely some sort of 'catch of the day', the new girl, the one everyone was talking about. There was no love, and precious little emotion involved. She might as well be a mechanical doll.

The only person with whom she had felt the slightest spark was Princess Charlotte, or Charlie as she now thought of her. And what a spark it was. It was almost as if they couldn't keep their hands off each other and yet they had to play as strangers, they had to pretend that they too were part of this bizarre dance.

But Tamsin didn't really have time for ruminating. She had a job to do, one she had to get on with. She had already kissed all around Roberta's upper thighs and lower belly and the petals of her sex had opened up, demanding attention. Tamsin lightly traced her tongue along the edge of the outer lips, opening them further, tasting the proof that her labours were not going unrewarded. 

For Tamsin could not be unaware of the irony that, despite her misgivings over this impersonal sex, she was, apparently, very good at it. Quite possibly the two were linked. It was because she always thought of sexual acts as emotional, almost spiritual, that she could not fail to make some sort of connection with her partner and hence be more responsive to her needs.

For example, she could tell that Roberta wanted more but also knew that teasing served to heighten desire. The longer she stayed away the sweeter the release when it arrived. She could almost feel the frustration as she let the tip of her tongue just flicker oh so lightly over the bud of Roberta's clitoris and was rewarded with a gasped 'oh my god, yes, like that, please!'

Another quick flick of the tongue was similarly rewarded. And again, and again, until further teasing would seem unfair and Tamsin settled down to a rhythmic flick, flick flick against Roberta's now swollen nubbin. Within moments this was taking her to a first mini climax, a wave of pleasure, but just a step on the way to the bigger bang.

There were two more such waves before Tamsin knew that she was taking Roberta towards the summit. She could feel it building, indeed, her aching jaws were glad that she could, and she knew that the end, when it came, would be explosive.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," Roberta kept repeating. "Don't stop, please don't stop, oh my god, oh yes, oh yes, oh my god, OH MY GOD!!!"

Tamsin stayed with her as long as she could but in the end Roberta had had all she could take and she reached down and pushed Tamsin away. Tamsin knelt back and watched as Roberta rode out the helter-skelter of her orgasm wrapped in Charlie's arms. There was the vague satisfaction of a job well done and she smiled to herself as she watched Roberta subside back and return to planet Earth. But all that was as nought when Charlie, now relieved of breast kissing duties, glanced down at Tamsin and gave her another huge wink. Tamsin wasn't the only one who found this all more than a trifle ridiculous.

"Ooh, they said you were good but nobody told me you were that good," Roberta said slightly groggily as she sat up again. "What a clever little tongue you have. I might have to make use of that once or twice more before we're finished. Now you two wait here. I'm going to clean up." She got to her feet and toddled off towards the en-suite.

"What a clever little tongue you have," Charlie mimicked as soon as the en-suite door closed.

"Never mind that, pass me a tissue, will you. I need to wipe my mouth," Tamsin replied but she was laughing as she did so. 

They sat together on the edge of the bed while they waited for Roberta to finish. They didn't say anything, they didn't need to. They just quietly shared the little bit of peace while they waited for their 'Mistress' to re-emerge.

"There, that's better," Roberta said when she finally did so. "Now, let's get dressed, that's me, not you two, of course and then it will be time to go downstairs and join the others."

Charlie and Tamsin helped Roberta into a black leather outfit that owed a lot more to a fetishised view of domination than any practicality. The figure hugging black leather skirt must have looked good in the shop but it was immediately obvious to Tamsin that her 'clever little tongue' wasn't going to be called into action as long as she was wearing it. However, as Roberta looked at herself in the mirror she turned this way and that, seeming to like what she saw. It was time to join the others.

She re-attached the leashes to Charlie and Tamsin's collars and led them downstairs. Moreover, when they got to the lounge door she wanted to make a grand entrance so she ordered them down on their hands and knees and had them crawl, one either side, like a pair of dogs.

The effect was somewhat spoilt when it transpired that Felicity was the only other Domme to have come down, the others still getting ready upstairs.

"Hi there," Felicity called out as they entered. "I've just ordered slave Fiona to fetch me a drink. Can I get her to fetch you one as well?"

"Yes, please, gin and tonic please."

"You heard the lady."

"Yes, Mistress," Fiona replied. It was evident, even from this brief exchange, that Felicity was having lots of fun Domming Fiona and, although it was all good natured and very much part of the game, Fiona was suffering as a result. Indeed, instead of just handing the gin and tonic to Roberta, Fiona was ordered to get down on her knees, and offer the glass up and, when it was taken, kiss the toes of Roberta's shoes in thanks for being allowed to serve. It looked like Fiona was in for a long night.




Royal Flush Ch. 09



But, for all that, it was pretty much a low key affair. One by one Georgina, Andrea and Justina appeared, each with their respective 'slaves'. Although Andrea had only bagged Frances during the actual stalk, she was also attended by Maggie whom Georgina had 'given' to her so as to even up the numbers. Zoe, along with Maggie, Henrietta and Frances were despatched to the kitchen to get on with the evening meal. This left Andrea without any slaves so Justina leant her Angela as an interim measure, not that it really made any difference. They settled in the lounge, with the Dommes sat in the semicircle of armchairs, each with their respective slaves knelt before them.

"I think that, while we're waiting on our cooks to prepare the evening meal one of the slaves ought to be entertaining us. Now, lets' see, what shall we have?" Felicity said speculatively. "Slave, Fiona, I seem to remember that, last year, you had a suggestion to make. Can you remember what it was?"

"An exhibition of vibrator usage, Mistress," Fiona replied. It was clear they both knew where this was going but Felicity wanted to milk it for all it was worth.

"Oh, yes, so it was. Now, remind me, what was the outcome."

"You were deemed to have shown inadequate passion and were punished for it."

"So I was, so I was. Obviously you feel you could do better, is that so?"

"I... I wouldn't presume, Mistress."

"Wouldn't you? You seemed to be quite happy to presume last year, weren't you?"

"Yes, Mistress," Fiona knew she was trapped.

"I'm so looking forward to seeing if you really can do better. Off you go, you'll find a vibrator on the dressing table upstairs in my room. Come along, chop, chop!"

Fiona got up off the floor and headed for the door.

"Come along, faster than that," Felicity chided. "I expect my orders to be carried out at a run, not dawdling about!" 

Fiona hurried off only to return a minute or so later holding a large black phallic vibrator.

"Ah, yes, that's the one. I thought it appropriate for your tastes." This raised a chuckle around the room, evidently some sort of in-joke that Tamsin was unaware of. "Now, move the coffee table out of the way and kneel down on the hearth rug in front of the fire. That way we can all watch."

Fiona did as she was told but, even then, Felicity chided her for not opening her knees enough.

"Go on, open wide. We all want to see how this horny little slut loves big black cocks. Now get that thing up you before I punish you for wasting time."

And then the show began. Tamsin watched, grateful that it wasn't her that was being put through this. Sure, she masturbated, which woman didn't, and, sure, she owned a vibrator, but this sort of public display was completely contrary to her nature. For her this was an act that one did in private. 

Fiona, on the other hand, despite her apparent unwillingness, showed no such modesty. Maybe it was the threat of punishment if she didn't live up to expectations, although Tamsin would have laid good money that Fiona was going to end up being punished however well she did. Maybe she had an exhibitionist streak; maybe it was simply the ritualistic side of things, but, whatever the reason, it was clear that she was far from unwilling. 

At first she sucked the tip of the vibrator, ostensibly so as to lubricate it for use, but she certainly made a meal of it, looking up coyly from under lowered eyelashes as she fellated the plastic phallus.

However, after a couple of licks, she took the vibrator from one set of lips and applied it to the other. At first she just used it to stroke up and down the outside but, with each downward movement, she pushed the tip ever nearer the actual entrance until, with one smooth movement, she slid the monster inside her.

There was a collective sigh from the ten spectators. Each one of them had, in her own way, felt every inch of the intruder. As far as Tamsin was concerned it spoke quite a bit about Fiona's level of arousal that she was able to take so much so smoothly. After all, there had hardly been enough mechanical arousal to make her so receptive. Tamsin wondered just how much was genuine or whether Fiona had grabbed the chance to use a little lube when she had gone for the vibrator.

Indeed, it was hard to tell just how much of any aspect of Fiona's 'show' was genuine. She could, of course, have been a rampant exhibitionist who got her kicks from performing like this but, more likely, she knew what was expected of her and was playing to the script. Whichever, she gave every appearance of approaching a significant orgasm, groaning and writhing as she worked the vibrator inside her when, suddenly...

"OK, you can stop now. Stop what you're doing. Now! That's better. Switch off the vibrator and hand it over."

From the look on Fiona's face, either she was a consummate actress or there hadn't been that much faked about her level or arousal. Biting her lower lip she removed the vibrator, switched it off and handed it to Felicity who was careful to hold it by the clean end and use the tips of her fingers.

"Well, ladies," she said to the assembly at large. "The big question is whether we feel that slave Fiona showed sufficient passion in her demonstration. We all know the high standards that have been set in the past; did she meet them. Is she to be allowed relief or is a punishment in order? Thumbs up or thumbs down?"

She held out her fist like a Roman emperor and extended her thumb holding it parallel to the ground. The other four Dommes did the same. There was a pause before, to nobody's surprise, all five gave thumbs down.

"Stand up and assume the position," Felicity ordered and, with a wry smile, Fiona obeyed, turning towards the fireplace, standing with her legs apart, leaning forward and grasping her ankles.

"Justina, can I be so bold as to ask to borrow slave Barbara from you for a moment or two," Felicity continued. "Thank you. Slave Barbara, go and fetch something appropriate for reminding this slave how to show passion. I leave the selection up to you but I'm sure Mistress Justina would not be pleased if you returned with something that didn't meet with our approval."

Barbara got to her feet and hurried off. Meanwhile Felicity chided Fiona over the amount of 'padding' her backside seemed to have gained. Barbara returned carrying a paddle made from twelve inches of four-inch wide leather with a wooden handle attached. Felicity told Barbara to bend over while she 'tested the suitability'. The flat leather obviously stung but was designed to make more noise than heat; even so, Felicity deemed it tolerable.

Making the most of it Felicity got up out of her armchair and went over to where Fiona was still waiting. 

"I remember when you were head prefect. What was it you used to say? Ah yes, this is for your benefit, not for my pleasure. I'm not sure if you meant it back then but, right now, I can most definitely say that I don't give two hoots for your benefit; this is very much for my pleasure. Now, you know what to do."

"Yes, Mistress."

Thwack! The sound of leather against backside resounded around the room.

"One, thank you, Mistress," Fiona said in response.

By the time that Fiona had got to twelve her buttocks were bright red and her voice was strained and breathless but Tamsin could tell that this was nothing compared to the tawse she had endured under Patience. This 'punishment' was almost playful and Fiona wasn't really suffering. It would almost seem that it was more galling for her to have to go down on her knees afterwards and thank Felicity for 'correcting her behaviour'.

When Felicity returned to her armchair and Fiona returned to sitting, rather gingerly, on the floor before her, there was a certain amount of discussion as to which other slaves might be asked to give a similar demonstration. However, before any decision was made, Henrietta appeared and announced that dinner was about to be served. Now there was no time for demonstrations or their associated punishments. They all trooped though to the dining room and, when they got there, five of the slaves were recruited as serving wenches while the other five were dismissed to work the kitchen. Tamsin, who was one of those sent to the kitchen, found that, as well as providing assistance she also got a chance to eat a meal. As the main course was served these roles were reversed so, in that way, all ten slaves got to eat whilst maintaining the protocol that only the Dommes sat around the dinner table.

When the meal was over, Charlie and Sophia were ordered to serve coffee and brandies back in the lounge while the other slaves were dismissed to the kitchen where they made light work of the clearing up. Zoe took control, ensuring that the kitchen was spotless and ready for Bridie in the morning. This done they all returned to the lounge and took their places knelt on the floor in front of their respective Dommes for the night. As Tamsin took her place she noticed the size of the brandy that Roberta was drinking and an alarm bell rang within her. Roberta had had two gin and tonics before the meal, had had plenty of glasses of wine during it, and was now knocking back the brandy like there was no tomorrow and, in consequence, was getting seriously drunk. The idea of being at the beck and call of someone this drunk was far from appealing.

The chat that had carried on from the dinner table was pretty general but peppered with one or two tales from the stalk, about how they had surprised their prey and outwitted them. It seemed to Tamsin that, in a number of cases, the prey had actually wanted to be caught; that the stalk had, for them, been a way of choosing which Domme they would serve that night. 

"Talking of the stalk, I've got a bit of a tale to tell," Roberta put in. 

"Do tell."

"I'm sure you're all wondering how a clutz like me managed to capture slaves 'a' and 'b' here and equally, how I managed to capture them both at the same time."

"Well, I didn't want to ask but after your last stalk..."

"Don't remind me!" Roberta laughed. "But anyway, I was blundering about in the woods down by the stream and I'd not found anyone so I thought I'd cut across the moors to the woods near the top and see if I could find anyone there. I'm halfway across when I hear shouting and even I can't miss that. I trudge through the heather and there's this stream down in a little valley, I'd have completely missed it if I hadn't cut cross country, and who do I see down there but these two going at it hammer and tongs. 'a' here is on top and giving 'b' a right old snog session. It's no wonder they didn't hear me the way they were going at it!"

This produced a mixture of gasps and rather nervous giggles from the assembled women. Tamsin noticed that Georgina, at least, was thoughtful enough to glance over at Andrea to see how she was taking this. After all, this drunken revelation was, effectively, that her partner had been caught in flagrante delecto with another woman. 

"Well, I never," Andrea said with a smile. "We all know that normal rules don't apply at these things and I'm not one to get jealous but who'd have thought that 'b' would be such a little slut that she'd be at it as soon as my back was turned. They always say the quiet ones are the worst! Maybe, seeing as how we're all fond of demonstrations, you would like to order your slaves to show the rest of us what they were doing. Let's see if they can demonstrate, what was it now, 'adequate passion' when they're not alone on the moors."

There was a slightly uneasy moment. Andrea had misjudged the mood of the room and come across as far harsher than the rather girly games the others were into. However Roberta hadn't seemed to have noticed.

"Good idea, very good idea! Let's see the little sluts do a show for us," she said, gleefully. "Come along, 'a' and 'b', you heard Mistress Emma. We all want to see some hot action so show us how you were snogging and let's have lots and lots of passion." 

Tamsin's heart sunk as she realised why Andrea had been so quick to jump on this. Andrea had talked earlier about the need to get photos and, by getting her and Charlie to 'perform' together she would get all the opportunities she needed. Tamsin wasn't just going to be performing for the assembled women but for the Daily Sleaze as well. However, the idea of having her and Charlie perform had gone down a storm with Roberta and there was no way she could get out of it.

Rather nervously they got up, went over and lay full length on the hearth rug but, almost before they had started, Andrea called out and stopped them.

"Mistress Roberta, I hope you don't mind me making a suggestion but lying down like that all we can see is a's back. Maybe if they were to kneel facing each other?"

"That's right. Not much of a show, one girl's back. Well, you heard Mistress Emma. Up you get and let everyone see you at it."

They knelt up as demanded by Andrea and, for a moment, just looked at each other. Neither wanted to start, neither wanted to do this, neither wanted to take the tangle of confused emotions that ran between them and lay them out in public. However, Roberta was urging them to get on with it and they couldn't put it off forever. 

It was Charlie who made the first move. She put her hands on Tamsin's shoulders, pulled them together and kissed her gently on the lips. Tamsin, despite her abhorrence of making love in public, knew that she had to respond so, making every effort to forget their audience, and every effort to forget Andrea's busy little camera, she responded to the kiss. She was torn, desperately torn. She so wanted to run away and hide but the place she wanted to run away to was right in front of her, it was Charlie's arms. She could feel herself tearing up, tears that Charlie must have sensed because she stopped kissing Tamsin on the lips and moved to kissing away the tears.

"Come on, this isn't very passionate. You'll have to do better than this or you won't be sitting comfortably for a week."

"One moment, Mistress," Charlie said breaking away from the kiss. "Slave 'b' is a little shy. If you'll allow me a moment or two...."

"Shy? She won't be shy when I've finished with her."

"Please, Mistress."

Oh, very well, but don't take too long."

Charlie put her arms around Tamsin and hugged her close, their heads side by side with Charlie's head away from their audience.

"Are you OK," she whispered.

"Not really."

"Shy?"

"It's just...," but Tamsin tailed off. How could she explain, especially here, under pressure and in front of everyone?

"I know, I know. You have to pretend it's just the two of us. Forget them, forget them all. Close your eyes. Are they closed?"

Tamsin just nodded.

"Now, just pretend. Can you do that for me? I think this feels nice, just us two together. Remember what Emma said, normal rules don't apply on these things, no need to feel guilty. Let's just share the moment."

Once again Charlie broke them apart and they just looked at each other. Charlie gave a little smile and Tamsin, despite all her objections, smiled back in return. And then they kissed again.

And suddenly it was easier. Maybe it was the Charlie's pep talk or maybe it was just the smile. To hell with their audience and to hell with the Daily Sleaze. Just being this close to Charlie was ecstasy. To be given free rein to caress, to stroke, to kiss, to share, to conjoin. The kiss went on and on and on. Tamsin couldn't really pretend that they were alone but, by pretending to pretend, she was able to block out some of it. 

Charlie broke from the kiss but only so as to start kissing Tamsin's neck. Oh, bliss! Tamsin threw back her head and lost herself in the delightful tingle of Charlie's lips. She felt the tip of Charlie's tongue explore the ridge of her collar bone. She moved her own hands lower, cupping the outside of Charlie's breasts but, as yet, she was purely the passive partner, the receiver, not the giver. Charlie kissed lower, as if wanting to cover every inch of skin with kisses as she made her way towards Tamsin's breasts.

"For fuck's sake, get on with it," Roberta ordered. "Give us some fucking, not just a bit of kissy kissy."

"Where's that vibrator," Andrea egged her on. "Why don't you get...."

"Yeah! Give it here! Where is it? Slave Zoe, go and find where that vibrator went to. I want to see slave 'a' fuck slave 'b' with it."

Zoe went to the sideboard where Felicity had left it.

"It needs a quick wipe first, Mistress. I'll just..." Zoe gestured towards the door, and, by implication, the downstairs toilet.

"If you must but hurry up about it. I'm getting impatient over here."

While this had been going on Charlie had stopped kissing Tamsin and was now cuddling her, once again with their heads side by side.

"I'm going to go down on you first, get you warmed up a bit," she whispered. "Trust me, it will be OK."

Tamsin felt so far out of her depth that her only option was to do as she was told. She let Charlie guide her back down until she was laid full length on the hearth rug. And then she felt Charlie's lips, the same lips that had been worshipping her shoulders, leaving little butterfly kisses on the inside of her thighs. Soon, too soon, far too soon, she felt Charlie's tongue teasing her open. It felt good, no doubting it felt good but it was frustrating in that, oh, so easily, it could have felt so much more than just good.

And then there was the distraction as Zoe returned and handed the freshly cleaned vibrator to Charlie who gave one last quick probe with her tongue before scooting up to lie alongside Tamsin. Switching on the vibrator to its lowest power she gently ran the tip up and down Tamsin's outer lips.

"Open wide," she whispered and, for all her discomfort with what was going down, that made Tamsin smile, helped her relax. There was no way this was not going to happen; thank heavens that the person behind the vibrator was Charlie, the only one present she had the slightest bit of trust in.

"Get on with it," Roberta urged. "Shove it up her."

However, Charlie wasn't going to go any faster than Tamsin could manage. There was an urgency, an urgency to appease Roberta's lack of patience, but there were also limits to how ready Tamsin was, how much she could take and how fast. 

With all eyes on the action between Tamsin's thighs, Charlie was able to cuddle up to Tamsin and, once again, whisper in her ear.

"I won't ever hurt you, you know that, don't you."

Tamsin nodded.

"Do you trust me?"

Again just a nod.

"Good girl, that's it, just a little bit more. Not so bad now, is it?"

With a start Tamsin realised just how much of the monster was now inside her. Charlie's gentle whispering had covered the way that, inch by inch, she had been opened up and invaded. And now, now that so much was inside her, Charlie's hand, where it gripped the base of the vibrator, was also rubbing against her sex. She couldn't help but push back.

"Is that nice, is that what you want?" Charlie flexed her thumb so that her knuckle bore direct pressure on the conjoin of Tamsin's lips, pressing on the sensitive flesh below.

Tamsin turned her head towards Charlie and let her eyes do the pleading. Their eyes locked and, suddenly, it was easy to ignore the rest of the room. Together they found a rhythm, and, for the first time, Tamsin could begin to lose herself. 

It wasn't so much what was being done to her, Tamsin had never been that fond of having a vibrator thrust inside her, rather it was who was doing it to her. She wanted to be a 'good girl' for Charlie, to submit, to lose herself and let the busy thumb knuckle take her higher.

"Play with your breasts," Charlie urged. "That's right. Not so shy now, are you?"

And Tamsin wasn't. Looking only at Charlie, ignoring anything else that might be going on around her, she was pushing back, taking every inch of the vibrator, rubbing herself against Charlie's thumb. She could feel the tension building, growing. Her approaching orgasm would be a gift, a gift of her body to Charlie who seemed to be keen to claim it. 




Royal Flush Ch. 09



"More, please, more," she gasped. "More, just a little more."

"Is this what you want?" Charlie pushed at her a little harder.

"Yes, oh yes, oh, Charlie, please...."

"That's enough! Stop! Give me the vibrator," Roberta ordered.

To Tamsin's dismay the beautiful bubble she had built around her popped. She wasn't alone with Charlie, far from, every aspect had been watched and scrutinised. She felt dirty.

"That was useless; I didn't find it sexy at all," Roberta complained. "You took forever to get going and there was an awful lot of whispering going on. What say you, fellow Dommes?"

She held out her fist with its extended thumb and the other four Dommes did the same. However, to Tamsin' amazement, although Andrea's thumb went down the other three went firmly upwards. At first she assumed that this was some sort of kowtowing to Princess Charlotte but there was something else happening. Georgina was giving Felicity and Justina meaningful looks.

"What!" Roberta all but screamed. "They were useless, you know they were. Why, why are you doing this to me?"

"We're not doing this to you, Roberta, we're just voting how we're seeing it."

"You spoilsports!" Roberta protested, hurling the vibrator into a corner of the room. "You always spoil my fun. I wanted to... I wanted to..."

"I'm sorry, Roberta but those are the rules," Georgina replied gently. "Come on, they passed the test, fair and square and get to finish off as a reward."

"Rules! Rules! Fuck you and your rules! You always have twist it around, have it your way, be the one in charge. The rules are always your rules' always have been, always will be." 

It was suddenly very apparent just how drunk Roberta really was.

"Please, Bobbie, you know that's not true," Georgina said, trying to calm things down.

"Bloody feels like it. I should never have come. I hate this, I really hate it." She reached for her brandy goblet. "Fucking brandy's gone. Get me another."

There was an awkward pause before Charlie got up off the hearth rug and, taking the brandy goblet from Roberta, went over to the sideboard and refilled it.

"And what about...."

"Why the fuck should I care. Do what you want. It's nothing to do with me any more." Roberta slumped back in her armchair, grabbed the refilled goblet from Charlie and took a massive slug, all but draining it.

"I think it might be best if one of the other couples gave us a little show," Georgina said brightly. "Angela and Barbara, why don't you show us how it's done."

Charlie and Tamsin returned to kneeling in front of Roberta while Angela and Barbara took their places on the hearth rug.

Tamsin watched as they went through the motions. They put everything into it, trying to cover the embarrassment of what had gone before and there was no denying their enthusiasm, or that of those watching, but it was clear that any contact between the two participants was purely physical. There was no spiritual element. Inevitably it was followed by them 'failing' to please and 'needing' punishment. A formula which, for Tamsin, was quickly getting tired and repetitive.

And, talking of tired, Roberta, slumped in the armchair behind her, had passed beyond mere drunkenness and was now asleep. At first this was politely ignored but, when the snores got too loud, the elephant in the room got too large to ignore. Georgina came over to where they were sat.

"Charlie," Georgina said. "I think it's time you and Susan took Bobbie off to bed. Look after her, won't you."

Charlie looked up at Georgina, smiled and nodded. Tamsin could tell that putting Roberta to bed was not an uncommon task but their attitude was one of sympathy, of caring, and not of annoyance.

Gently Georgina woke a rather reluctant Roberta up and, working together, Charlie and Tamsin helped her to her feet and guided her towards the door. As they made their way upstairs the wide sweeping staircase was, fortunately, easy to negotiate as Roberta was all but a dead weight and, even with the two of them, it seemed to take forever to get her to the room.

Exhausted they dropped her down on the bed and, together, started to get her out of the ridiculous leather dress she was wearing. It took a certain amount of pushing and pulling as Roberta was completely uncooperative, insisting that she just wanted to be left alone. However, in the end they got her tucked up under the covers.

"So, what do we do now?" Tamsin asked.

"We could return downstairs...." They looked at each other and neither felt it necessary to state how much that wasn't really an option. 

"We can't sit around like this all night," Charlie continued. "Hang on, there ought to be..." she went to the en-suite door, opened it, and from the other side unhooked the two dressing gowns hanging there. "Here. Put this on," she said, handing one to Tamsin.

While Roberta snored away her alcoholic stupor, and with the room lit only by a small bedside light, Roberta and Tamsin sat together on a sofa, wrapped up in their towelling dressing gowns.

"Don't judge Bobbie too harshly," Charlie said gently. "She hasn't been the same since her daughter died." 

Tamsin just looked at her.

"Baby Tess, three months old. Cot death. One moment she had the sweetest baby ever, then next, nothing. She was devastated. Well, who wouldn't be? She tries to keep it all locked away but, sometimes.... what are friends for but to pick her up when she falls. I hope it didn't make it too grim for you."

"I'm not sure that any of it was exactly my cup of tea."

"No, it's not, is it. Still, Emma seems to be having a ball."

"Yeah, she's like that."

Charlie looked at Tamsin, and Tamsin realised she'd let a little too much bitterness creep in. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...." Once again Tamsin was faced with the impossibility of explaining how she felt.

"It's OK. I think I understand. I'm not that enthusiastic either. The only reason I'm here is to make up the numbers. Each time I say to myself 'never again' and each time Georgina manages to persuade me otherwise. And then, when I get here, I wonder why I agreed. Mind you, it's not been all bad." Charlie gave Tamsin a little grin.

And then they just chatted. Quietly, so as not to disturb Roberta, they sat on the sofa and shared. In the half light it was peaceful and Tamsin just wished she didn't have to lie. Just once she would love to tell the truth, to be Tamsin and not Susan Ward, to be her and not some charade. 

After a while Tamsin's lack of sleep caught up with her and she couldn't suppress a yawn.

"You look just about all in. Why don't we take this to bed?" Charlie suggested.

They went over to the bed where Roberta was still comatose. She was right over to one side so there was no way they could sleep one either side as was expected. Mind you, after the outburst downstairs who knew what was expected. They went around to the other side of the bed and slipped in under the covers; Charlie in the middle and Tamsin on the other side. Apart from Roberta's drunken snores it was really quite cosy and, even when Tamsin turned off the bedside light and the room was plunged into darkness, she knew that Charlie was on her side facing her. Tamsin, too, rolled onto her side so that they were facing each other. At that time of year the north of Scotland never gets completely dark and there were the faintest glimmers of light coming through the curtains. She could just make out the shadows of Charlie's body only inches away. 

Unbidden her hand reached out and found Charlie's. Just holding hands. That felt so much better than all that gymnastics that had happened downstairs. She gave a little squeeze and Charlie squeezed back in response. And there was no power on earth could have stopped the next bit. Each would swear they never moved a muscle but, somehow, their lips touched. Just that, softly, just touching, nothing more.

And when Charlie gathered her in Tamsin knew she had come home. This was where she belonged; this was it, her place, wrapped in her lover's arms. The thrill that filled her came from her heart, not her groin, but it was all the more intoxicating for that. She knew it was wrong, she knew it was all based on a lie but she shoved that thought away and hung on to the moment. 

But it wasn't only her, surely it wasn't only her. Charlie was reacting just as strongly, Charlie felt the same spark, Charlie was just as much in its thrall. Their legs entwined, their bodies melting together, two becoming one, flesh touching flesh, soul touching soul. 

Gently Charlie pushed Tamsin onto her back and, in the darkness, started to explore every inch of her body with her lips. Tamsin felt adored, worshipped, loved, cared for, wanted. The flutter of lips along her side, over her belly, along her arms, was far, far more powerful than the mechanical manipulation that had gone on downstairs and Tamsin's whole body sang.

"My turn," Tamsin whispered after a while and she pushed herself up, pushing Charlie down as she did so. Now she returned kiss for kiss caress for caress. Now she could show just how much she adored the flesh, the flesh that held the soul, the perfect flesh. Now she could search out those special places, that bit of the waist just above the hip bone, the back of the neck, the crook of the arm, the places that only lovers know. 

And then they were back together, their legs once more entwined, their bodies moving together, lifting each other, higher, higher, taking them, as one, towards a pleasure that fed the soul as much as the groin.

And it was as much the knowledge that they were travelling this road together as the pressure of flesh on flesh that was smoothly easing Tamsin towards the edge. She felt Charlie tense, she felt herself tense, she felt them both tense together. Little breathless gasps escaped followed by muted cries as, locked as one, they flowed into each other and, together, reached the promised land.

And then there were no words left. They just lay there in the dark knowing that the other was close, knowing that, whatever the rules, whatever tomorrow might bring, some things would never be the same again, ever.



Royal Flush Ch. 10



****** Please Read This First *******

I know, I know, I usually don't bother with the disclaimer bits either. Blah, blah, blah, over 18, blah, blah, blah, don't read if easily offended, blah, blah, blah. But, just this once, please bear with me and read this one.

Firstly, this is final chapter and the story will only make sense if you read it from the start. If you haven't already done so then I sincerely urge you stop and go to chapter one. It will be better that way, honest.

Secondly, this is a work of fiction and all the characters are completely fictional. In particular, one of the main characters is Princess Charlotte who is, according to chapter one, "about tenth in line for the throne". Now, in real life, there can only be one person who holds that position but this story is not real life and it's definitely not about her. 

Princess Charlotte is not a real person and any resemblance is purely coincidental. Before I get carted off to live out what is left of the rest of my life in the Tower Of London, I want to stress that this story is set in a parallel universe where Britain has a very different Royal family with a very different line of succession.

Thirdly, briefly but importantly, my heartfelt thanks to all those who have helped so much. Especial mention must go, in no particular order, to V and OneWhoAdores for help along the way.

Fourthly, not much sex in this one. Enough, in my opinion, to keep it out of 'non-erotic' but if your looking for no holds barred red hot girl-on-girl... not this time. If that's what you're after, look elsewhere.

Lastly, this is a story of deception and subterfuge. Most of the characters have at least two names, many three or even four. To help the reader keep track each chapter will start with a dramatis personae. 

The list for this chapter is:-

*Andrea, a journalist, masquerading as Emma Pearson from Paarl
*Tamsin, another journalist, masquerading as Emma Pearson's sub, Susan
*Angus, editor of the newspaper often called by its nickname, the Daily Sleaze
*Tim Ewing, legal advisor to the Daily Sleaze
*Princess Charlotte, a princess, known to her friends as Charlie.

Enjoy the story

*****

"Fan-fucking-tastic!" Angus exclaimed as he looked through the photos Andrea had taken. "This is it, this is the biggest story you or I are ever going to break. Look at this one," he pointed at a picture of the captured prey corralled in the sheep pen, "all lined up, pretty maids all in a row. Couldn't ask for better than this. That one, that's the princess, and these others."

"That's Barbara Abercrombie, and that one's Zoe Fitzwarren, and that's..."

"Zoe Fitzwarren, isn't she the one who's married to some guy down in Herefordshire but having an affair with Georgina McDonald?"

"That's the one. OK, so I know we're leading with the royal angle but there are lots of other high society name here. We're really going to rock some boats."

Tamsin looked on but her feelings had a lot more to do with shame than pride. She had known all along that this moment was coming but now that they were actually about to publish... she knew she would never really be able to live with herself ever again. It had been so easy to despise these people when they had just been names in the society columns but, now that she had got to meet them, to know them, they had all turned out to be quite normal. Yes, there was more than an air of spoilt little rich bitch among some of them, Felicity and Barbara sprang instantly to mind, but then, were they really any the worse than the kids she had grown up with, the ones from the estates?

And right at the heart of all her thoughts was Princess Charlotte who she would now forever think of as Charlie. Tamsin recalled the story, the one she still hadn't told Angus or Andrea, the story of Jocasta and why Charlie so hated the press. In a few more days Charlie was going to have yet more reasons for her hatred and the fact that it would be her hand on the knife that was about to be plunged into Charlie's back filled Tamsin with self loathing. 

Tamsin thought back to twenty four hours earlier, Sunday morning, waking up with Charlie and Roberta and the air of embarrassment that had filled the bedroom. Roberta, suffering from a monumental hangover, had only partial memories of the previous evening and couldn't stop apologising for, as she put it, her outrageous behaviour. Charlie and Tamsin worked hard to reassure her that it was all OK but Roberta was hard to console.

Meanwhile, despite, or was that because of, their previous intimacy, Charlie and Tamsin were both more than a trifle awkward with each other. Charlie was struggling with her guilt as she laboured under the impression that, even when allowances were made for club nights, she had spent the previous night making love to a married woman. It wasn't the physical acts that, in retrospect, seemed so wrong; they were part and parcel of the games they played. Rather it was the emotional closeness, the evident feeling of attraction between them, that seemed to stray far too far into forbidden territory. Tamsin's guilt, on the other hand, had been all about the lies, the pretence, the falsehoods and she was already feeling remorse for the blow she had yet to strike.

So, although all three of them tried their very hardest to put the best face on things, they had not wanted to drag things out any further than necessary and, leaving Charlie to reassure Roberta that no one was thinking any the less of her, Tamsin had made her way back to her bedroom.

When she got there, of course, she had found Andrea still fast asleep with Frances and Maggie lying either side of her. She had slipped through to the en-suite and put on the dressing gown she discovered hanging on the back of the door. However, when she had emerged, she had found that, quiet as she had been, she had indeed woken the sleepers. By comparison, here it had all been giggles about how much fun they had all had and expressed hopes that, maybe next year, tables might be turned. 

"I'm sure you two will want a cuddle before breakfast," Maggie had said as an excuse to leave. She and Frances slipped out from under the covers and, after some fond farewells, returned to their rooms. The door had hardly closed before Andrea had started gloating. Her mood a stark and vivid contrast to Tamsin's.

But, if thinking back brought with it far too much raw emotion, far too much that was unresolved, far too much that probably never would be resolved, that didn't stop Tamsin from endlessly playing it all back in her mind, searching for meanings, searching for a way out. 

"Tamsin! Tamsin! For fuck's sake, pay attention. Now, this is far too big for the Daily Sleaze, we're going make this the front page of the Sleaze On Sunday, as big a splash as possible, well take up practically all of it except the sports pages. This means we're going to need plenty of copy, not just the juicy stuff, plenty of background. You tell me that this all dates back to when they were in school together. Imply much more, make it up if you have to. 'Sources close to the princess' sort of thing. With the photos we've got we can get away with practically anything.

"In the meantime, do not forget, this is still top, top secret. You're to tell no one, no one at all, not your best friend, not your lover, not your lover's best friend, no one. The only people who are to know that this story even exists are the three of us in this room and Tim Ewing from the legal department. 

"Because of this I don't want you floating around the office where any Tom, Dick or Harry might catch a glimpse of what you're working on. You're to go back to the Mayfair flat and do everything from there. I'll drop by from time to time and see how you're getting on. For starters you can give me five thousand words by the end of play today. I'll go through the pictures and decide which ones we can use for publishing and which we keep in the bank, so to speak and, when I come over this evening, we'll see how we can tie them together. Talking about the pictures, I want notes on each and every one of them listing where and when it was taken and exactly who is in them. Make sure there are no mistakes. We may be able to get away with sly innuendo in the text but we can't afford to put a foot wrong on the photos. Now, are there any questions? Good, off you go then and I'll drop by around six or seven this evening."

They headed off for the Mayfair flat and, when they got there, set up their laptops on the kitchen table. It was agreed between them that Andrea would write the story while Tamsin would go through the pictures identifying who was in each one.

And that, in itself, was a painful task. Tamsin carefully studied each and every photo, listing the participants along with where and when it was taken. But the people in the photos weren't just participants, they were people, real people, that, to some extent, she had got to know and who had become, in some small way, her friends. There, for example was Felicity Ambrose all dressed up in pony gear from the session down at Patience Armitage's stables. She still saw Felicity as a feckless airhead, a hooray Henrietta, the very epitome of everything she had despised so much about the upper classes. However, in real life, Felicity had never been anything other than completely friendly and there wasn't an ounce of harm in her. Similarly, Barbara Abercrombie, Felicity's friend, companion, and probably lover, was, again, as shallow as a puddle but, still fundamentally harmless and never less than welcoming.

Similarly it was all too easy to write off Lady Mary as a bossy cow, the sort who endlessly wanted to run everybody's lives but, in the end, wasn't she just lonely? Wasn't she just wishing to hang on to her school days, still trying to be head girl, trying to gee the team up, trying to recapture the camaraderie that was fast fading? For all that some of her attitudes came out of the Ark they came from ignorance, not malice.

And there was Roberta Frogmorton, whose air of bossy competence had come crashing down, who had revealed this as a thin and fragile mask that had completely failed to hide the very real pain within. Alongside her was Georgina McDonald, who had clearly married for money, not love and, as a result, ended up as laird of large chunks of Scotland, properly addressed as the Lady Luid. However, if there was a villain in that particular story then surely that role went to her husband who had defrauded thousands of pensioners and run away to Venezuela with their savings. In contrast, Tamsin's lasting memory of Georgina would be the gentle way she had helped Roberta, diplomatically ensuring the minimum of hurt or fuss to all concerned. She was a good woman in a crisis, the sort anyone would want as a friend.

And there, from the pony club afternoon, were pictures of Patience Armitage and Sally McIntosh, looking just so with Sally in full pony gear and Patience at the reins. Angus had rejected this one outright commenting that "Daily Sleaze readers would only want pictures of pretty girls, not an ugly lump of lard like that. Why, she hasn't even got decent tits". Tamsin, who had got to know Sally quite well, thought she looked rather sweet. Moreover, however unconventional their relationship, there was a real love and partnership between them. They showed a level of respect and understanding missing from many more conventional couples and, if their relationship was a shade unusual, it was none the worse for it. What is more, while, for the others, the D/s aspects of their games, the whole goddess and handmaiden thing, was a hangover from dorm games at school, for Patience and Sally it was a serious and central part of their relationship. They weren't playing at it, they were living it.

But all these thoughts were all a mere bagatelle besides her confused emotions over Charlie. Charlie was, of course, the main focus of the story and the bulk of the pictures featured her. There she was, time and time again, looking so... looking so everything. 

The photos fell into two groups. On the one hand there were the pictures from Bedfordshire, from the puppy show where Charlie had looked so prim, so proper, and so much the perfect puppy mistress. There was nothing much they could use here. Andrea had still been learning the art of concealed photography so many of the shots were clumsy and ill framed. Moreover, there were no shots featuring Charlie in an overtly sexual context. Tamsin, on the other hand, felt that some of these showed Charlie at her best. There was one in particular that was so perfect that Tamsin, despite Angus's strict rules on the matter, just had to copy it to her personal thumbdrive.

In stark contrast there were the pictures from Scotland. There was Charlie during lunch in the garden completely naked but looking calm and relaxed. Another showed Charlie corralled with the others in the sheep pen, again, relaxed and enjoying herself. And then, although the lighting was worse as Andrea obviously hadn't been able to use flash, there was Charlie and herself, making out on the hearth rug.

But there was one shot, one taken while they were applying the sunscreen, which showed Charlie and herself standing, face to face and there was something in their eyes, something that... It would never be used for the story. It wasn't particularly sexy; they still had their panties on and it was just two semi naked women looking at each other but, it too was surreptitiously copied. 

By the end of Wednesday they were all but ready to go to print. They sent the story off to Tim for his final approval and, in the meanwhile, all they could do was wait. They had had a phone call from Lady Mary wondering if they would be available that weekend but Andrea had fobbed her off with some excuse about looking at prospective kennels out in Gloucestershire. They finished off the day with yet another conference with Angus who reluctantly agreed that, with their work done, they could take themselves home. Although they were to keep their phones with them at all times, Thursday and Friday would be well earned days of rest before the bombshell dropped at the weekend.

CRASH!!!

Tamsin woke with a start. Still half asleep she was finding herself in the middle of some sort of nightmare. Her diminutive bedroom was full of men in riot gear, each and every one of them apparently waving guns around and shouting at her. Behind them the remains of the bedroom door hung in a splintered mess showing how they had entered. The shouting continued as, working as a well oiled team, they hauled her out of bed and a black canvas bag was thrust over her head. Her arms were tugged behind her back and, judging by the tight lines that held her, her wrists were bound with cable ties. Similar ties were fastened around her ankles, she was hauled over someone's shoulder like a sack of potatoes, manhandled into a van and, completely terrified, whisked away.

When the van finally pulled to a halt the shouting started again. Still bound and hooded, they manhandled her out of the van and, quite literally, threw her into a cell and, for what seemed like hours, she lay on a hard concrete floor, freezing cold and unable to move. She had long ago given up screaming, pleading, sobbing, begging and all the other things that they completely ignored. She now understood the phrase 'shitting yourself with fear' as, somewhere along the line, she had soiled herself. They had made no concessions towards this; she now lay in her own filth and could do nothing about it. Then the cell door opened, she was picked up, her ankles were freed and, still with her wrists bound and still hooded, she was half marched, half dragged to a room where she was sat on a chair. Her wrists were freed, only to be refastened to the arms of the chair and, at last, the bag was removed from her head.

"Tamsin Phillips?"

"Yes. What's happening? What's this all about. Please, you've got the wrong woman."

"Is this you?"

A photograph was thrust in front of her. I was indeed her in the photo but she didn't know any of the others. Suffice it to say that they had a middle eastern look about them. In despair she nodded. They hadn't got the wrong woman. 

"And what about the others? This one here for example."

"I don't know them. I don't know who they are."

"The photos say otherwise. The photos say you know them very well indeed." More photographs were put in front of her. Photos that showed her getting increasingly intimate, photos that showed her.... "Is that how you get your kicks, Miss Phillips, giving blow jobs to terrorists?"

"But these are fakes! They're doctored; that's not me. I've never met these people."

"You're lying! We have sources, very good sources, that show that you're deeply involved with these people. We have evidence linking you to plots to bomb several major London tourist attractions. We have the photos, Miss Phillips, we have the photos. Now, why don't you tell me all about your little friends and what they get up to when you're not letting them fuck you."

"But these photos, they're not me. They're false. You have to believe me. You have to believe me."

"And why should I believe you? Why, when all the evidence points to you being deeply involved in acts of terrorism. Scum like you should be wiped off the streets of London and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"But they're faked. Please, you have to believe me, they're faked."

"Is that the best you can come up with. Maybe be you need more time to think things over. We have all the time in the world and, trust me on this, you're going nowhere until you've told us everything you know."

"But I don't know anything. You've got to believe me."

"Take her away."

And Tamsin was, once again, hooded, bound and returned to her cell. 

Time seemed to enter a new dimension. Tamsin really couldn't tell if she was there for minutes, hours or days. They kept noises going, screams, shouting, dogs barking, cell doors slamming shut, and, all the while, she had no idea whether they were real of faked. It did mean that she didn't get a moment's rest. Three more times she was taken for 'interrogation' although, if she hadn't been so petrified with fear, she might have gleaned that they didn't seem to be that interested in her answers. More it was a matter of piling on the 'evidence', evidence that she was deeply involved in some sort of Middle East terrorism. Their constant refrain was "we've got the photos. The photos don't lie, Miss Phillips."

As she lay on the had cold floor of the cell she was kept in she had plenty of time to think about the photos. They were, on the face of it, completely convincing. They looked like hard and fast evidence, evidence that would convict her of terrorist crimes, evidence that could and would put her in prison for a long, long time. Their phrase, 'the photos don't lie', echoed in her head. But they did lie, but they did, but they did.

The bag over her head was wet with her tears.

And then, suddenly, it was over. Still hooded and bound she was, once again, bundled into a van and driven away. When the van finally stopped she was manhandled out and put on the floor. Her wrists were freed, the hood removed and, as she lay there blinking in the light, she saw her captors leaving through the splintered remains of her own front door.

Her first action had to be cleaning up; first herself and then her flat. She was still in her badly soiled pyjamas and, after wedging the remains of her front door closed, getting under a shower was her top priority. She let the water cascade over her, trying to come to terms with what had happened to her. She was scared, really scared and, it would appear, with good reason. Eventually she had used all the hot water so she emerged from the shower, put on an old tracksuit and started picking up. Jim, an old friend, came round and fixed her front door for her and was fobbed off with a story about being burgled. 




Royal Flush Ch. 10



And she had been burgled. They hadn't just turned the flat up-side-down, her laptop, her phone, in fact any piece of computer hardware was gone. On the other hand, her wallet and its contents were left untouched. Once she had got herself as straight as possible she walked to the phone box on the corner and phoned the office. Unlike normal protocol, she was put straight through to Angus.

"Get your arse down here, now! I don't care what time it is, get your butt on a train and get down here." he all but screamed down the phone at her. "Meeting, my office, soon as."

She made her way to the station and caught the next train in and, it wasn't long before she arrived at the office. When she got to her desk, her PC was missing and her desk drawers had been emptied. She went over and found Andrea whose desk was also minus its PC.

"Have you been...," Tamsin started but Andrea just nodded.

"Come on, Angus is waiting for us. I don't know what they did to him but... well, wait and see."

Together they made their way to Angus's office where Tim Ewing was already present. He let them in and locked the door behind them. 

"The story is dead. Dead as a dodo, deader than dead. Norwegian parrots have nothing on this one. It is dead. Is that completely understood?"

"Yes," they chorused.

"It's so dead it never even happened. If you've got anything, anything at all, from the last few weeks then you destroy it, completely and utterly." Tamsin had never seen Angus looking so scared. Come to that she had never seen him looking scared at all but there was no doubt that he was terrified of something. "What's more, you don't tell anyone, ever. This is a secret you take to your grave. If one word of this gets out, one single word, if there's the slightest whisper then it won't just be you, all four of us....

"Look, let's just assume that all four of us had visits this morning. I've no idea what hold they have over you and I sure as hell don't want you knowing.... but the story stops here, in this room, just the four of us. It never happened, it never happened at all. Agreed?"

There was no dissent.

But Angus hadn't really needed to stress all this. Although no one was giving any details it would seem that they had all had visits that morning and, although he was the only one that had been 'persuaded' to drop the story, the other three had been scared enough to get the message. It wasn't quite clear what hold they had over Angus but it had to be big. They were all shaken and scared but, for him, it seemed to have another dimension.

Now he was trying reassert his authority, to be the big hard man, threatening Andrea and Tamsin so as to keep them quiet but he was still a mere pussycat compared with what Tamsin had already been through that very morning. 

"OK, so that leaves you two without a story to work on. For starters you can have the rest of the week off. Fuck off back home and I'll see you back here on Monday morning. In the meantime you can find out all you can about boy bands. Seeing as how you two work so well together I'm keeping you together as a team and I've got just the right story. It's a line on the X Factor finalists, nice bit of juicy gay action. It seems that all is not what it seems."

"I... won't do that," Tamsin replied, amazed at her own boldness.

"What do you mean, you won't do that?"

"I've... I've had enough. I came into this business to inform, to unearth wrongdoers. I didn't do it to expose peoples private lives. Who cares if those involved in X Factor are gay or not. We all know it's fiddled anyway. I've had enough, enough of all this muck raking."

"Inform! Unearth wrongdoers! What fucking planet do you come from. No one gives a fuck what you care about. It's what our readers care about that counts and they care whether those involved in X Factor are gay or not. That's what they want to read. That's what sells newspapers, that pays your wages. Is that too hard to understand?"

"In which case I've had enough of destroying people's lives just to sell newspapers. What people do in their private lives should stay that, private."

"Private! Fuck that! Have you gone mad or something?"

"I'm sorry, I just can't do it any more. As I said, I've had enough. I've got some leave owed me, and some time off in lieu of all this overtime I've been putting in so you can take that instead of notice."

"You can't just walk out of here. If you do...."

"What? I'll never work in newspapers ever again?"

"Don't push it sunshine, now is not the time. If you leave...."

"Just watch me go."

***********

Six Months Later

***********

It had been a long hard day. The seats at the checkouts at PennySavers were not the kindest and Tamsin had had to deal with the usual range of disgruntled customers. Why is it that those who pay the least seem to demand the most. Still, when all was said and done, at least it was a job. 

Life had been pretty tough since she had so cavalierly thrown away her job at the Daily Sleaze. It had been hard to find work and there was nothing that matched the wages she used to earn. What made it harder was that Angus was refusing to give her a reference and that wasn't helping in the slightest. PennySavers had her on the minimum wage and made it quite clear she should feel grateful for the privilege of working for them. With this drastically reduced income she had had to give up both her flat and her car and move back in with her parents; that was all she could afford. 

Still, at least she was sleeping at night, well, sometimes. There were always these dreams, dreams involving.... No, no, no! She mustn't go there. 

She got off the bus and, as she turned into Sunnyhill Road, she became aware of the big black saloon that was following her, keeping pace, five yards behind. She quickened her pace and it speeded up. She slowed down and it did as well. It wasn't trying to be discrete; it was out to scare her. Her heart sunk; nowadays she had every reason to be paranoid. She'd kept her part of the bargain. She hadn't spoken a word, not to anyone, anyone at all. However if Andrea, or Angus, or even Tim Ewing had been foolish.... Angus had intimated that if any one of them talked all four were for the high jump. Her heart started pounding and she started to run but you can't outrun a car. It kept pace with her for a while and then accelerated only to draw up just in front of her where two men got out. She just sighed in resignation and stopped. There was no point in running any more, no point at all.

She was bundled into the back of the car and the all but obligatory hood was put over her head. However, this lot weren't anything like as rough as the last lot. They also hadn't restrained her hands, although she was under no illusions that this meant that she would be able to escape or anything like that. They hadn't restrained her because there was no need.

It was quite a drive before they finally stopped. She was then helped out of the car and guided, quite gently, up some steps and into a building. This wasn't the hell hole she had been in last time. Here the floor was carpeted and the place smelled of furniture polish. She was led to a chair and asked, politely, to sit.

"OK, boys. Thanks. I'll take it from here."

Tamsin's heart leapt. She'd know that voice anywhere! Princess Charlotte! Charlie! The hood was removed and there she was, standing in front of her, holding a file.

"Well, well, well, little Susan, or should that really be Tamsin Phillips? Quite the little viper in the grass, weren't you."

For a moment Tamsin just stared at Charlie and then her head dropped.

"Do you know, I really thought there was some sort of connection between us, some link, some... you must have been laughing so hard at the way I fell for you. Was that your plan? Was that part of your plot. To get me to.... Well?"

"No, I never planned that, I never planned that at all!"

"And why should I believe you? Everything else you have said has been a lie. Well, apart from your parents living in Sunnyhill Road in Streatham. South Africa! Hah! You've never been any further south than Benidorm.

"And, as for the rest of it.... Well, you had me fooled, I'll give you that. Remember me opening my heart to you, out there on the moors? Do you? Do you? What an idiot I was, what a gullible idiot. But then, you were bargaining on that all along, weren't you?"

Tamsin didn't reply. She had no words.

"So, how does it feel to be out of a job? Oh, I know you're working the checkouts at PennySavers but that's no job for the likes of you. How the mighty have fallen, eh? Tell me, why did you leave the Daily Sleaze?"

"I had editorial differences."

"Is that what you call them. You've applied for quite a lot of jobs but none of them in journalism. I wonder why that is." Charlie flicked back and forth through the file. "You're not having much luck, are you. I guess Angus put the mockers on that one. Let's see, one hundred and thirty job applications and not so much as a whisper. Tough times, tough times indeed."

Tamsin still just sat there. Charlie deserved this anger, and she deserved this telling off. Nothing would undo what had been done and there was nothing really left to say.

"Surely you must have wondered who it was that blew the whistle, how your little scheme got found out? Well, did you?"

"Sometimes," Tamsin admitted.

"And did your wondering come to any conclusions? I mean, how many were in the know. Angus, surely not, Tim Ewing? I can't see that one either. Must have been Emma, oops, sorry, make that Andrea. I mean, there's no one else left, is there?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Wouldn't you? 

"I don't know, really I don't."

"The thing is you're not the only one who got to wondering and, unlike you, I have contacts, contacts who can find things out. Let's start with the actual tip off. That came from a gmail account opened just for that one email. Opened, email sent, and then nothing. Of course, anyone can open a gmail account, easy peasy, and completely untraceable.

"Or that's what I thought. The boys tell me otherwise. Seems they have ways of finding out the location of the PC that was used to open the account. Very clever, those backroom boys. Didn't take long either. Turns out it was opened from a public terminal in the lobby of the Flyaway Inn in Croydon, you know, the one next to Gatwick Airport."

"I've never been there."

"Have you not? Maybe you ought to try it sometime. We went and asked the staff there but you know what it's like. Turnover is high and who's to remember one single person from all that time ago. On the other hand it seems they keep the CCTV footage. Here's a still that might interest. These things are always a bit blurred but you can see quite clearly someone working on one of the terminals in the bar. Here, have a look."

Charlie handed over a photo and but the person was wearing a hoodie which obscured the face. It could have been anyone.

"And here's one from the car park. Same figure getting into a Ford Fiesta. Didn't you used to own one of those? The number plate is a bit blurred but you can just about read it. What do you make of it?"

She handed over another still from the CCTV. Tamsin stared at it. It was blurred but there was no mistaking what it showed.

"Now, Andrea was busy in Barnet that night, Angus was at a party in the West End, Tim Ewing was at home with his family. Any idea who the girl in the hotel was, Tamsin, or should I say, puppygirl1986?"

Tamsin just stared at the carpet. She had no secrets left. She felt more naked than she had ever done, even with her clothes off. Charlie knew everything. 

Charlie put down the file and squatted down in front of Tamsin so that there heads were level.

"Thank you, Tamsin, thank you."

"I don't deserve your thanks. You ought to hate me, really hate me. What was the phase you used? Blood sucking vultures? Yeah, I'm one of them."

"Oh, I used to hate you. Believe me I used to hate you. I thought you were the worst of the worst, the way you weedled your way in, gaining my confidence. All that little girl lost you played so well. Oh, yeah, until I worked it out you were number one on my hate list but it never did quite ring true. And then there were the photos on your thumbdrive. Why those? Why there? In the end I started to wonder, were you really that good an actress, had I really been so completely fooled. And then, when I got the boys to do a little digging for me, well, it had to be you, didn't it? Who else was going to throw away the chance of a lifetime so as to save my reputation and that of my friends. Angus? Andrea? Tim Ewing? I don't think so. There was only one person it could be and I owe her everything."

"You don't, really you don't. I'm sorry, I'm so so so sorry," Tamsin broke down. "I should have said no before it started. I should never have agreed to it in the first place."

"Should have's, would have's, could have's. Maybe you should never have agreed to it but, if you had, then we would never have met. And if we hadn't met then we would never have done this," Charlie leant forward and kissed Tamsin. For a moment Tamsin fought it. She still felt guilty, so very guilty, but, it seemed that didn't matter to Charlie. And then she couldn't fight it any more. They melted into each other and held each other tight until, after a long, long while, Charlie pulled back and looked at Tamsin.

"I love you, do you know that. I think I have done ever since that day in Bedfordshire and, up in Scotland...."

"I love you too. I'm so glad I don't have to lie any more. I'm so sorry Charlie, I'll never lie to you ever again."

Charlie leaned forward and they kissed again.

"I think you and I need to be somewhere a little more comfortable, don't you agree?"

Tamsin just nodded. Charlie stood up, took Tamsin by the hand and led her to the bedroom. Slowly, gently, lovingly, she eased off the PennySavers uniform that Tamsin still wore. Under that were a light tee shirt and cotton panties and they soon joined the dress. 

"God, you're beautiful," Charlie said. "I've thought so from the first day we met.

"Me in the puppy gear."

"Kind of suits you, you know, and it couldn't hide your eyes. I knew back then that... and to think that I thought..."

"Please, don't. I hated lying to you."

"And all those things you had to do," Charlie laughed. "Poor you, was it awful?"

"Some of it was. Most of it was but...."

"But what?"

"Not all of it was lies. Being your puppy girl, there in the garden, that wasn't lies."

"I knew it wasn't." Charlie gave Tamsin another kiss. "Just for those few minutes you were my little puppy girl. That was pretty special to me as well."

"But then I had to go and be Celia's puppy girl as well. Please don't ever ask me to do that again."

"Oh, you're my little puppy girl now and I'm going to keep you all to myself. You can be sure of that. I was getting pretty fed up with all the games anyway and now, now that I've got you, why would I ever want to play around?"

But Tamsin was too busy undoing Charlie's blouse buttons to give an answer. She had had enough of chatter for the time being, there were other things to do and she was intent on doing them. 

It was quite late when they came up for air and Tamsin discovered that even princesses are not averse to having pizzas delivered. What's more, Tamsin had to phone her mum and explain that she wouldn't be coming home for a while. And then it was back to bed again to try and discover all those bits they might have missed last time.

"How would you feel about going back into journalism?" Charlie asked as they rested after yet another rather athletic bout.

"No way, no way José. I've had enough of that cesspit to last me a lifetime"

"Oh, I wouldn't want you to be a journalist."

"Sorry, I'm not following. What exactly are you asking me to do?"

"Well, my press secretary, Julie, has gone and got herself preggers. She's going off on six month's maternity leave and, after that, well, she's always wanted to be a mother more than my press secretary; she couldn't give the job the commitment it requires and I wouldn't ask her to do so. Now, the replacement I'm looking for needs to know their way around but, more than that, I need loyalty and an ability to do the right thing in a tight spot and then keep their mouth shut afterwards. Do you still not want to go back into journalism?"

"Do you think I'm up to it?"

"Oh, I'm certain you're up to it and, what's more, it gives me the perfect excuse for keeping you around and, more than anything, I plan on keeping you around from now on in."

"So, was that the only reason you got your goons to abduct me. Some sort of staff recruitment drive."

"I can think of one or two others. These for instance." Charlie kissed Tamsin's nipples to make her point. "But seriously...."

"But seriously, I'd love to, if you really think I'm up to it. There is one problem though."

"What's that?"

"Well, your friends... I know neither of us are particularly keen to go to one of Lady Mary's little soirées ever again but... well, we're bound to meet up from time to time. They all think I'm Susan Ward. What are we going to tell them?"

"They already know quite a lot of the truth. I had to tell them. I had to explain why Emma Pearson had just disappeared off the face of the earth. And that means I had to tell them about you as well. They already know Susan Ward is not your real name. I'll put the word around that you're the good guy and, after that, they'll just have to accept you. What's the phrase, love me, love my dog?"

"Woof!"