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Pantomime Dwarf Pt. 01

By: jeanne_d_artois



Prologue

In front of the curtain. Two women dressed in ball gowns with full crinolined skirts. One is very tall and blonde. She speaks first.

“Once upon a time there was a beautiful Princess who was kept locked in a walled enchanted garden by a wicked Witch…”

“Oh No there wasn’t!”

“Oh Yes there was!”

“Oh No there wasn’t!”

“OK. There wasn’t. How about a beautiful Giantess who hated men because of what they had done to her?”

“That sounds more realistic – if you are the beautiful Giantess. You are, Marie, aren’t you?”

“Yes. And I get to be saved by this handsome dwarf…”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure. He is handsome. He’s a dwarf and I love him.”

“OK. If you must, Marie. Now get on with the story.”

One woman walks off stage left. The tall blonde walks between the curtains.

The Curtain rises revealing the Giantess seated at her computer. She is blonde, nearly two metres tall which is not apparent until she stands up and comes down stage, well built, curvaceous but not fat. She is a large lady suitable for the part of a Wagnerian soprano, particularly a Valkyrie or Rhinemaiden. Her hair swings either side of her face in shimmering curtains lightly waved. She is wearing a ball gown, full skirted in black and white striped taffeta with a fitted bodice in metallic black. The puffed sleeves billowing around her arms are in the same taffeta as the skirt. As she walks towards the audience her skirt hisses with the rustle of her petticoats. 

In the brightness of the footlights it is apparent that she is not in her teens or early twenties. Her face has begun the process of becoming lived in but is still beautiful if saddened by life.

“Hello. I’m the sad Giantess.” She announces.

“Hello” chorus the well warmed up audience.

“I’d like to tell you a secret. Should I?”

“Yes!” reply the audience enthusiastically.

“I hate men!”

In the orchestra pit the musicians play the introduction to Katarina’s song from Kiss Me Kate.

The Giantess sings “I hate men” encouraging the audience to join in the reprises. At the end of the song she bows to the audience’s applause.

“Shall I tell you why I really hate men?” she asks.

“Yes!”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes!”

“Then I’ll tell you.”

She goes back to the computer and pulls the chair downstage before sitting on it and leaning forward.

“You won’t tell anyone?”

“No we won’t,” respond the audience prompted by a placard held out from the wings.

“You are sure about that?”

The placard is inverted to reveal the next response:

“We’re sure.”

Invariably at that point my dream pantomime would end. Even in a dream I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone why I hated men. For I, Marie, am the blonde Giantess. The dwarf who will save me is Alan, a fellow student at my computer class. How he will save me and why I love him I do not know. In my dream I am convinced that he and he alone is my salvation and that I will love him. In real life I am not so sure. How can a dwarf who barely reaches my waist save me from myself and my unreasonable hatred of men?

Chapter One.

I’m twenty-nine, nearly thirty. That is a fact: a fact that influences my life. As a teenager and in my early twenties I imagined that by thirty I would have married, settled down, and have a family.

I wasted my twenties on two men who used me and then cast me aside. Actually I threw the second one – right out of my front door on to the lawn but not until after he had told me he was leaving.

I won’t go into details about how unsatisfactory both men were. I’m biased and still angry. I won’t even name them. All I will say is that both were control freaks who wouldn’t let me do anything unless they allowed it. I was their slave in all but name despite being taller and bigger and brainier than either. 

The first got tired of me. He found a fluffy more manageable bimbo and just walked out. The second caught me on the rebound and soon I was back into the same self-destructive spiral of pandering to his whims and fetishes. I hated being tied to our bed dressed in corset and stockings and yet it happened several times a week.

Things started to change when I joined evening classes to improve my work skills. He didn’t object because it meant I would eventually earn more money for him to waste. On the nights I was at my class he would go out clubbing with his mates.

I joined the students’ club and from there I was persuaded to sign up for a women’s consciousness-raising class. I told him it was another class that met at the same time. It was my first lie of many. I found the class irritating at first because some were too overtly feminist but I made friends. After a few weeks I became to realise that I was his doormat.

I started to rebel. I wouldn’t do everything he wanted. I refused to be tied up. One night he tried to insist. He was the one who ended up dressed in the corset and stockings tied to the bed. I gagged him with his own dirty socks because he would have been sexually excited if I’d used my panties. I left him like that all night and slept on the settee. That was the beginning of the end. He didn’t tell me he was leaving until he too had found a convenient younger replacement.

Once he had left I decided to have nothing to do with men. I wasn’t going to be caught on the rebound again. I have kept that resolution for a year. Yet now I am having dreams about Alan the dwarf. Why? 

If I think clearly about Alan I can come up with some reasons why I dream about him. First and probably most important is that I like and appreciate him. He is kind, considerate, intelligent and invariably even-tempered. Second is that I can’t imagine him as any kind of control-freak mentally or physically. Physically he would be no match for me. Even when he stands to his full height his head is well below my breasts. Mentally Alan never tries to enforce his opinions on anyone. He discusses, argues, tries to persuade; but if he fails he shrugs it off. He accepts that others have opinions that could be equally as valid as his own.

He is a great person to be with. After talking with him I feel better about myself. He is really interested in other people. The only obvious flaw I can see in him is acute self-consciousness about his lack of inches. He likes to be treated as a normal human adult. That he is. He isn’t like many dwarves with an out of proportion head. At a distance with no scale references he looks like a perfectly normal and handsome man. I would consider Alan as an acceptable date except that we would attract attention because of the vast disparity in our sizes. At nearly two metres I’m taller than most men.

Yet I’m planning to use Alan. Is that fair? Probably not. Men have used me and now I intend to use Alan, the one man that I like and respect.

It all started at our women’s consciousness raising class. They decided that they would produce a adult pantomime to raise money for a local hospital charity. Because it would be women’s group pantomime the majority of the cast would be female. A group started to write the pantomime. The theme was that women are our own worst enemies and were only subjected because we allowed it.

I ignored the writing group until they told me that I was the heroine. By then it was too late to change the script. I would be the enchanted princess who could only be rescued by a kiss from a man but the man had to be a dwarf. The writing group knew that Alan had taken part in some amateur pantomimes and that he was a friend of mine. They had relied on me to persuade him to participate. They hadn’t asked Alan, or me. Now I had the task of persuading him to take part as the hero.

I felt used. Now I had to ask Alan to allow himself to be used as well. I hadn’t even seen the script. They had told me some things but they didn’t want me to see the script until I had persuaded Alan to co-operate. I blew up. I lost my temper and told the script writing group what they could do with their script. When I calmed down, and that took a lot of cajoling from people who were not script writers, they agreed to let Alan and I see the script before he made a decision. They still wanted me to get him to agree before reading it. I wouldn’t. We compromised that I would put the proposal to him. If he didn’t reject it out of hand then both of us could have a copy of the script to read together but it wasn’t to be let out of my sight.

I still felt like telling them what to do with their pantomime but I knew that many people had put work into the project. If I rejected the pantomime it would be a blow for all my friends. 

I spoke to Alan in the coffee break at our next computer class. I sat down next to him.

“Alan,” I said.

He held up a hand.

“Marie, I can tell by your tone of voice, even just from saying my name, that you want something from me. I can go further. You want a favour, not for yourself, but for other people and you aren’t happy about asking me. And it is about a pantomime.”

“How do you know all that from one word?” I asked.

“Elementary…” He laughed. “It was easy. This place is a rumour factory. I know that the women’s group is planning a pantomime. I am the only person around here with years of pantomime experience. It was almost certain that sooner or later someone from the women’s group would come to see me. I’m pleased that it is you, Marie.” 

“Why pleased because it is me?” I had to ask.

“Because I can talk to you on a rational level. Some of your women’s group are so committed to their cause that they behave as if talking to a man is beneath them. Actually listening to a man and discussing something with him would be very painful for them.”

“That’s not fair, or even true!” I protested.

“It is fair and true – for some. Admit it. You can think of one or two that fit my description.”

It was true. There were a couple like that; rabid feminists who could see nothing good in any man. One had been a sexual predator worse than any man I had ever met. There had been several unpleasant scenes before she was asked to leave.

“OK,” I said. “There have been one or two but most of them are not like that.”

“I appreciate the use of ‘them’.” Alan said. “You don’t think like one of them at the moment, do you?”

“No. They have pushed me into a corner and given me an unpleasant task.”

“Out with it. Tell me the worst. What do they, not you, want from me?”

“They want us to appear in their panto. Me as heroine; you as hero.” I blurted out.

“Hero? That’s a switch. Usually I’m the principal dwarf. Now you have me intrigued. What’s the catch?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure there is one. They haven’t let me see the script yet. They won’t let me see it until you have agreed to consider taking part.”

“That’s easily settled. I agree to ‘consider’ because Marie has asked me. Now what?”

“Now I report that back to the script writing team and they let us borrow the script for a short while. Then we have to decide one way or the other. If we decide to refuse they have to rewrite the whole thing.”

“Can we read the script in private or do we have to do it here?”

“I haven’t asked. Does it make a difference, Alan?”

“Yes. I want us to be able to discuss the script objectively. If we do it here they will be watching our reactions. We won’t be able to say what we really think.”

“So what do we do?”

“How about a meal together?”

“Are you asking me out, Alan?”

“I’d like to, but not this time. This will be a working session. A meal out should be enjoyable. I think this script might not be. Perhaps a take-away meal at my place – or yours?”

“Mine. I’ve been to a party at yours. You don’t have any furniture large enough for me to relax in.”

“OK, Marie, your place it is. When?”

“Tonight? Are you free after our classes?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll go and tell them that we want to see the script tonight. OK?”

“Yes. But make sure they understand that WE have only agreed provisionally. We need to read and understand the script before we decide.”

“Yes, Alan. Thank you. Back in a minute or two.”

I walked over to the scriptwriters’ huddle. They had been watching us from the other side of the common room.

“We have agreed to consider it when we have read the script.” I announced.

“We?” Andrea queried.

“Yes, we.” I said baldly.

“Does that mean that it is either both or none?” Andrea persisted.

“Yes.” I paused. “We need to read the script – tonight. Then we will decide.”

“OK.” Andrea handed over a heavily sealed package. “This is it. Look after it please. It is only a copy but we would like it kept confidential, particularly if it isn’t going to be used.”

“Only Alan and I will read it. You can have it back tomorrow. We should have decided one way or another by then.”

“Thank you, Marie,” Andrea said. “I appreciate what you have done for us. Even if you decide against this script, thank you for persuading Alan to read it.”

“That’s OK, Andrea.”

I walked back towards Alan. Andrea at least understood what I had been asked to do. That was a good sign. Perhaps I had been unfair to the scriptwriters or maybe Andrea wasn’t typical. The script itself would be more revealing. I thumped the package down in front of Alan.

“Here it is.” I said.

“Oh dear,” he said. “That looks heavy. Will we have enough time tonight?”

“It is Friday night,” I responded. “Neither of us are working tomorrow. We can burn the midnight oil as long as we like. I think it won’t take long to decide to say ‘no’. It might take longer to say ‘yes’. It might take a very long time to say ‘maybe’.”

“As long as you have plenty of coffee, I’m willing to try.”

“Coffee I can do. See you after class?”

“Yes. I’ll meet you by the entrance.”

Chapter Two.

Alan and I were sitting side by side at my dining room table. We had cleared away the remains of the Chinese take-away meal that he had brought. We were finishing the red wine and the large ring bound folder with the pantomime script was open in front of us. Alan was propped up on several cushions. We had just finished the first few pages when he reached over to turn a page.

The cushions slipped out from under him and he sprawled across my lap. We burst out laughing. Maybe we had drunk too much wine. I straightened him up so that he was sitting on my legs with his head against my breasts. His head pressed back momentarily against them.

“This is a much better position,” he announced.

“Is it? Don’t you feel humiliated, sitting on my lap?”

“No. Not if it is YOUR lap, Marie. This is just pleasant, not demeaning.”

“OK. If that’s what you want, stay there.”

His head pressed against me again. I folded my arms around him and hugged him lightly. I kissed the top of his head.

“That is more than pleasant, Marie. I like that.”

I hugged him again.

“Back to work, Alan. We have only read a few pages.”

We read on. Then Alan gasped.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Look there. Do you see what I have to do?”

I hadn’t got that far. I looked where he was pointing.

“Oh.” I said. “Is that a problem?”

Alan was flipping through the next few pages.

“It might be. I have to do it to almost everyone.”

He kept flipping the pages rapidly.

“There!” he gasped. “Even to you.”

“That might be interesting…” I giggled.

“I don’t mind some of the rest. That is fairly normal treatment for a pantomime dwarf even if it is more obviously sexual. Some of it is blatant but could we get away with that on stage? Over and over again?”

“Never mind what we, or they, think we could get away with. What do you think of the idea of doing it? That is more important tonight. If you can’t face it…”

“Face it? I’d have to ‘face it’ wouldn’t I?” He laughed. “I have to crawl under the skirts of six women, no, seven including you, and kiss them on their pussies – on stage in front of an audience.”

“Knowing the script writers I think you probably have to do it to the Wicked Witch as well.” I added.

He turned to the end of the script.

“Your guess is right. I kiss her as well. So there is a cast of eight women and one man – me. I kiss all eight on their pussies. Some of them get kissed several times. Apart from that I get humiliated on stage – often. So do you. At the end you are seated on a throne; I am between your legs and disappear under your skirt just before the curtain falls. No wonder they were reluctant to let you or me see this script.”

“You haven’t answered the important question. Could you do it? Would you want to do it?”

Alan turned on my lap so that he was looking up at my face.

“Marie?”

“Yes Alan.”

“What would you say if I told you I have never done that?”

“You are serious?”

“Yes. I have never kissed a woman there.”

“Oh.” I gave him another hug. “So what do you think of the idea?”

“Hypothetically, with someone I love, it seems attractive and even exciting. But twenty times or so, on stage in front of an audience, with women I barely know – that is frightening.”

Then I risked everything. I liked Alan. I wanted more of him.

“You would only have to pretend to do it, Alan,” I said. “They’d have their panties on at least. You just have to disappear under a skirt and make it look as if you are kissing a pussy. You could try it now.”

“How could I try it?”

“You could pretend to kiss my pussy.”

“You are wearing jeans.”

“I can change.” I waited for his reaction. My heart was in my mouth.

There was a long silence before Alan responded.

“If we are going to seriously consider doing this pantomime the pussy kissing is a serious problem. I don’t mind the rest. It is demeaning and humiliating but I can cope with that. I don’t know whether I could kiss pussies twenty times or even once. Pretending to or actually doing it is the same. Whether I actually do it or not I am going to have my face between a woman’s legs. Can I do that? I don’t know.”

He looked up at me as if considering what he knew about me.

“Go on. Go and change. I’ll try. If I can’t do it with you, I can’t do it with anyone. Now. Before I get too nervous and back out.”

He climbed off my lap. 

I went into my bedroom, stripped off my jeans and considered what to wear. I had been wearing my panties all day so I needed to change them but for what? A G-string wouldn’t do. Neither would skimpy translucent lace. What was suitable for a scared pussy kissing virgin? Virginal white? I rummaged in my pantie drawer and found a pair of white cotton panties that had a thin strip of decoration around the legs. I washed between my legs, dried myself and pulled the panties on. They were a good fit but much more material than I usually wore.

Now what to wear over them? I needed a full skirt but nothing too extreme. I found a calf length grey lined skirt that was slightly too large around the waist but elasticated all round. I had a long cotton petticoat, pintucked and frilled at the hem, with a drawstring waist. Once they were on, I checked that there would be enough room for Alan’s head. There was.

I decided against tights or stockings. I didn’t know what Alan thought of nylon or suspenders. My bare legs would have to do. They were hair-free and long and slim with just a suggestion of rounded softness in the upper thighs. I am proud of my legs. I think they are my best feature even if the men in my life so far had preferred my breasts.

I walked back into my dining room with the skirt swishing around my legs. Alan was sitting on the edge of his chair looking like a scared rabbit.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Alan.” I said. I hoped he wouldn’t back out but I wouldn’t force him to do something he found unpleasant.

“No. I want to try. If I don’t I’ll never know. I’m glad that I’m trying it with you and not at a rehearsal.”

He slid off the chair. I stood still.

“How do we do this?” he asked, looking up at me.


Pantomime Dwarf Pt. 01



“If it is to be a trial for the pantomime then I just stand here. You crawl under my skirt and move up inside it.”

“OK. Here goes.”

Alan dropped to his knees. He lifted my skirt with both hands. Then he let go. He hadn’t grabbed the petticoat. He tried again. He moved forward putting his head underneath my clothes. He lightly kissed my leg just above my knee. I flinched. He kissed again with a firmer pressure. Then he kissed the other leg and moved up my thighs kissing them in turn until he was close to my panties. I had spread my legs slightly, bending my knees. He kissed the inside of my thighs. I had to stop myself clamping my legs against his head.

His hand reached behind my legs and pulled me against his face as he buried himself in my pantie covered pussy. I could feel his tongue even through the cotton gusset. I moaned with pleasure as he continued to kiss and tongue me. I flinched again as one of his hands eased the gusset aside. His tongue licked at my lips and began to penetrate. My hands betrayed me. They moved down to cradle his skirt swathed head and force it harder against me. For a few moments he continued to lick passionately. Then he withdrew his tongue and pulled his head away and down, emerging red-faced from the hem of my skirt.

I looked down to see his face beaming gloriously at me.

“That I like!” He announced. “With you.” He added. 

He stood up and threw his arms around my waist hugging me tightly. I couldn’t see his head beneath my breasts until he tilted his head way back.

“You enjoyed it, didn’t you?” he asked.

“Yes.” I breathed. “With you.” I added.

“Good. Can I do it again?”

I nodded. I reached under my skirt and removed my panties. I kicked them aside.

“I think you will find it better like that.” I said.

“I’m sure I will,” he said as his head rapidly entered under my skirt.

His lips went straight to their target. Soon I was writhing like a belly-dancer as his lips teased and tormented me. Alan didn’t need teaching how to kiss. Even for a beginner he was pleasing me more than the previous men in my life had ever done. They had only gone down on me as a prelude to getting me to do something for them. Alan was enjoying what he was doing and pushing me over the edge into ecstasy. I sank back on to the floor with my knees raised. Alan followed as if he knew what I wanted. A warm glow flushed my body as his tongue pushed further in. Its tip reached up to touch my sensitive spot and waggled against it. I screamed for joy but nearly spoilt the moment by pressing my hands too hard on his head and forcing his tongue away. I relaxed and his tongue was back in place.

I relaxed and let him stimulate me into a series of orgasms. I had to keep my hands and legs from crushing him to me but the effort was rewarded by his tongue. When he finished both of us were exhausted. He crawled out and lay on my body. I heaved him up so that his head was resting between my breasts. We lay like that for what seemed like hours.

“Coffee, Alan?” I asked eventually.

“I think I need it,” he replied.

I struggled to stand, pulling him up with me. I picked him up and set him astride my hip as I walked into the kitchen. His head rested against my breast. I sat him on a bar stool while I made the coffee. As I moved about the kitchen I stopped from time to time for a mutual hug or kiss. We didn’t need to speak to know that we had moved beyond possible performers in a pantomime to a meaningful personal relationship.

End of Part One.



Pantomime Dwarf Pt. 02



Chapter Three

Alan and I were sipping our coffee. I didn’t know what to say. We had just discovered a sort of sex together yet we were not girlfriend and boyfriend. The women’s group idea for a pantomime had thrust us together. Did I want Alan as a boyfriend? Yes. There would be problems and we would have to endure some crude humour because he is so much smaller than I am. I am the tallest woman in our town. He is the shortest adult male. We both faced prejudice because of our size but together the comments would be frequent.

Did that really matter? I thought not because I liked Alan as a person. I enjoyed his company and his conversation. He seemed to enjoy being with me. If we were to become anything more to each other we would have to face the cruel remarks together. Why was I thinking ‘if’? We already were together. He had just spent a long time licking my bare pussy and had relaxed against my breasts as if he belonged there. I had enjoyed having him there. I was standing next to him as he sat on a tall bar stool in my kitchen. My arm was around his shoulder; his arm was around my waist.

“Marie?”

“Yes, Alan.”

“What are we going to do?”

“About what?”

“We are supposed to be deciding about this pantomime but that is not really the issue any more, is it Marie? What are we going to do about us?”

He was still hugging my waist. His head was resting against my breast.

“What do you want to do about us, Alan?”

“I want to see more of you.”

“Then you will. I want more of you.”

He laughed.

“There isn’t much of me. What you see is what you get.”

I turned to face him and pulled him close.

“Then I want all of you.”

“When?”

“Now?”

“Now? Are you sure?”

“Yes, Alan, I’m sure. You don’t have to go, do you?”

“No, Marie. I don’t have to go. I’d like to stay; if you want me to.”

“I do. Finish your coffee and then…”

“Then?”

“Then we go to bed. Together.”

“Isn’t this a bit sudden?” His eyes twinkled at me.

“You know it isn’t. We have been friends for over a year and we like each other, don’t we? We want to be more than friends, don’t we? Are you reluctant?”

“Yes; yes and no.”

“Good.”

I swallowed the rest of my coffee. He finished his and slid off the stool. He took my hand and I led him to my bedroom.

There we stripped each other. He had difficult until I knelt down. For some reason I decided to wear a night-dress, one that ended half way down my calves. It was black, silky and opaque with a high neck and cap sleeves.

“What’s the night dress for, Marie? Ashamed of your body?” he teased.

“No. I just want to play and this might be fun.”

I stood up and dropped the night-dress over him. He was pulled against my body and the difference in height was dramatic. My breasts were well above his head. He had to stand on tiptoe to make his tongue reach my navel. 

I bent forward and cupped my hands around his buns. I lifted him so that his head came between my breasts. His tongue licked up my body as he rose. His hands reached out for my breasts and his mouth moved to a nipple. I carried him to the bed and lowered myself, with Alan on top. He writhed against me and his tongue produced erect nipples, first one, then the other. 

His lips, tongue and hands wandered everywhere arousing me with light fleeting touches. My night-dress billowed and heaved as he moved around. My hands tried to hold him where he was exciting me most but he was as elusive as an eel. He was teasing me unmercifully. His fingers found my damp cleft and then darted away before returning when I least expected it. I was writhing in agony from his delicate touches when his fingers started to penetrate.

“Not those,” I gasped. “I want you.”

“Are you sure?” he asked with his fingers still pressing in and making me arch my body to force them further.

“Yes!”

“OK.”

His fingers withdrew, teasing me as they did. His erection replaced them. I hadn’t expected much from his stature but what I got was certainly more than my fears. I have had smaller ones.

Alan’s movements distracted me from consideration of relative sizes. He may be small but he knows how to please a woman. His head was at my breasts as he pounded into me. A finger worked its way in as well and found the place that counts. After that I just let myself enjoy.

Alan had a brilliant sense of timing. He brought me close, again and again, before taking me beyond into delight. Then he stayed, still moving gently until I was ready again. His motion increased in tempo until he had me screaming for more. I got more.

I don’t know how long Alan played with me. All I know was that I was satisfied when he finally let himself go. I clutched him to my breast as he came into me. 

We lay there for some time until I rolled to my side with his mouth still on my breast and his tool still held in me. I wrapped us in the duvet and we went to sleep. I hadn’t seen Alan from the time I dropped my night-dress over his head but I had felt him. How had I felt him!

Later in the night Alan woke me with wandering fingers. I rolled to my back and he rode me until I drifted back to blissful sleep.

In the morning he brought me coffee in bed. He was fully dressed, had shaved presumably with the razor I use on my legs, and he asked what I would like for breakfast. I could get used to this. This sort of treatment was a pleasant change from my previous men who would lie in bed snoring until I had been up for hours.

I declined his offer of breakfast in bed, showered and joined him in the kitchen. We ate together.

“What about the script?” Alan asked. “Do you have to answer today?”

“Yes. I promised Andrea. Do you want to do it?”

“It will mean seeing more of you.”

“You don’t need the pantomime for that. Anyway, you saw all of me last night, didn’t you?”

“Not really. Hidden under your night-dress I saw your shape dimly.”

“You felt all of it.” I retorted.

“I did, didn’t I? Enjoy it?”

I hugged him.

“Yes, Alan. You were great.”

“So were you. So that’s settled. We will see more of each other.”

We stopped talking for kissing. He was back on the bar stool so I didn’t have to bend far.

“The pantomime?” Alan asked when we stopped for breath.

“The what? Oh. That. Are you sure you want to do it?”

“No. I’m not sure. I’m happy about the part with you. It is the rest of your group. Last night was my first time kissing down there…”

“You were good at it.”

“Maybe, Marie. It was with you. It is a different problem with the others, some of whom hate men. Apart from what they might do to me on stage, and the script gives them plenty of opportunities to get at me, I have to do it before an audience. The script gets me into several awkward situations…”

“That is an understatement. Have you seen exactly what gets done to you?”

“Yes, Marie. If it is done sympathetically and with care I should only be embarrassed. If someone wants to make a point or just doesn’t like me – I could be hurt. I’d trust you. Some of your friends? I’m not sure.”

“So what do we do?”

“I think we should have a read through with the actions. That will give me an impression of how they will play it. I’ll have you at least on my side. You could stop anything that went too far. You would, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Alan. I would. I want you in one piece.”

“OK. Ring Andrea and ask if we can have a read-through with actions. Doesn’t have to be in costume but that would give a better idea. If they wore skirts like the one you wore last night that would help. They could put them over jeans.”

“I’ll see what she says. I think I’d better do it in private, if you don’t mind, Alan. I might have to shout and scream a bit to get my way.”

“OK. I’ll go home and change. Shall I come back here?”

“Yes please, Alan. Give me half an hour.”

He did. I spoke to Andrea. I didn’t have to shout and scream. Andrea seemed prepared for the request. We arranged it for that evening. They had already decided to meet in a room off the gym to discuss our response to the script. If we had said no they would have had to rewrite. They hadn’t expected an unqualified yes. Andrea said that the best they had hoped for was a ‘yes, maybe’ which is what we had given them. 

Chapter FOUR

We were in the kitchen drinking coffee. Alan was sitting on a high bar stool with his arm round my waist. His head was leaning against my breast. My arm was around his shoulder.

“We have proved that I can kiss pussy,” he announced.

“More than that,” I said “We have proved that you are very good at it.”

“I can’t do that on stage, Marie.”

“Well, perhaps you could – but I think the cast and audience might object. That sort of performance is for consenting adults in private.” I squeezed his head against my breast.

“Can I fake it on stage? Who do I have to do it with?”

“I think I know. I might have to ring Andrea again . Let me think.”

“Would the script help?”

“Yes, probably.”

We went back to the dining room. I sat down at the table, putting my coffee mug down. Alan put his mug beside mine and scrambled up on to my lap as if that was the natural thing to do. I opened the script at page one.

“Good,” I said. “There is a list of characters and pencilled notes of the casting. There are some alternatives but it gives us an idea. Andrea plays the Wicked Witch Morgana. I’m Princess Helen the heroine. You are Prince, as yet unnamed, the hero. The first choices for the other six are Judith, Chloe, Emma, April, Julia and Sandra. Pamela and Teresa are possible replacements. Except for Andrea, you, and I, we keep our real names in the pantomime. I’m not sure that is a good idea.”

“That doesn’t matter at this point. I want to know which women I would have to kiss. It will be eight of those ten. I know most of them. That makes it difficult in one sense and easier in another.”

“Why, Alan?”

“If I know them I can’t treat them as anonymous actresses but as real people that I am going to have to meet again. Will I feel the same about them if I have kissed them between their legs? It is a very intimate thing to do. Not only I but the whole audience will know that I have kissed them.”

“Does it make a difference?”

Alan turned to face me.

“I didn’t mind doing it with you once I had got beyond my embarrassment but it is an act of submission. I put myself literally at the woman’s feet and own her as my mistress. With my size I would find it difficult to submit so publicly because it reinforces the view that I am less than normal men. Can you understand that?”

“Yes, Alan, I can. The men in my life wanted me to submit to them. I was humiliating for me because I knew I was better than them. I don’t feel that with you.”

“You wouldn’t.” Alan sounded bitter. “I couldn’t make you submit to me. You could easily overpower me because you are much bigger and stronger than I am. I am no threat to your superiority.”

I kissed the top of his head.

“I wouldn’t do that to you. I don’t want to. Relative size isn’t the problem. It is the desire to control another person and make them less than they are just so that you feel more important. That is the theme of this pantomime. Women have been suppressed for generations. You can understand some of what we feel. A woman knows that every time she walks through the town some large ignorant lout could attack her. They might draw the line at a woman my size but it is true for most women. It modifies women’s behaviour. You are at risk just as women are, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Alan whispered as if he didn’t want to admit it, even to himself.

“Do you want to pull out of the panto reading, Alan?”

“No, Marie. I want to try. Whether I can go through to the performance… I won’t know until I’ve tried.”

“OK. What do we do until this evening?”

“Practise?” Alan said with a grin.

“No. I don’t think so. I want you fit for them. How about a walk and lunch at a country pub?”

That is what we did. We walked. We talked. We had a great meal and then walked some more. Towards the end of the afternoon I could feel that Alan was getting tense. I tried to distract him but by the time we got back to my home he seemed to be a bag of nerves. I sent him off for a shower while I made coffee.

His nervousness had affected me. If any of the women mistreated Alan this evening I’d defend him. I shook myself. They were my friends, not enemies. They might be playful but I was sure they would stop short of hurting or humiliating Alan. Or would they…



Pantomime Dwarf Pt. 03



Chapter 05

As we walk across the car park to the hall and the pantomime read-through I have worrying thoughts about my relationship with Alan.

I have persuaded him to consider taking part in this pantomime even though he will be humiliated on stage by every woman in the cast, all eight of them. As a dwarf he faces humiliation and discrimination on most days. Am I being fair to him? What are my motives for our newly changed relationship? Am I being entirely honest with him? My last two men had been controlling bastards who diminished me in every contact. Perhaps they were trying to compensate because I was larger than they were, as I am taller than almost everyone in our town. Am I compensating for their abuse by making Alan, a man who can never be a threat, my new partner?

Alan is holding my hand. Anyone seeing us walk across that dark car park would take us for a mother and child. The size difference is that great. Alan’s head is only a few inches above my waist as we walk. My long trench coat’s skirt swirls around him.

“Marie?”

“Yes, Alan.”

“I’m petrified.”

“I’m not exactly happy about this either, Alan. Do you want to change your mind and turn them down?”

“No… I said I would. I’m just not sure how I’m going to cope. With you it’s different. I trust you. I think I’d trust Andrea. I’m not sure about the others and worried about Teresa and Emma. I think they hate men. Do they?”

“I wouldn’t put it as strongly as ‘hate’ but they do have reason to be wary of men in general and those two had bad experiences with the men they had as partners. So have most of our group, including me – remember?”

“Yes, Marie, I remember. I don’t know why anyone would want you to be less than you are but I appreciate that some men are like that. So are some women.”

“True. But what do you want to do, Alan?”

“Go in and face them. Could I have a hug first? I’d like to know I’ve got at least one friend in there.”

I pick him up and hug him. Then we kiss. I am supporting his whole weight but I could stand like that for a long time. I sling him to straddle my hip and look at him.

“Ready?” I ask, walking towards the door. 

“Yes, but I should walk in. This is nice but not good for a public entrance.”

“OK.”

I put him down. He grabs my hand again, takes a deep breath, and we walk into the hall. He lets his breath out with a ‘whoosh’ as we see that the hall is empty. We hear voices from the side room. 

I am surprised when we walk in on the group. Andrea comes to meet us and drops to her knees to kiss Alan. He responds. Still on her knees, she takes Alan’s hand.

“Alan, this is going to be difficult for you. I know it is. Please be aware that it is difficult for some of us as well. You are not the only one who will be uncomfortable with this script. If you are willing, I want you to kiss everyone here. You are going to have to do things far more intimate than that if we go through with the pantomime. If you can’t kiss them, or they can’t kiss you, then we stop right here. Are you OK with that?”

Andrea looks straight into Alan’s face. He nods.

“Yes, Andrea. I’ll try.”

She kisses him again.

“That’s me.” She says. “Off you go.”

Alan walks straight towards Teresa. I see her shrink back, clamp her legs together and turn them to one side before she opens her arms to him.

He presses against her legs, between her open arms, and tilts his head back. They kiss and her arms close around him. As he withdraws Teresa’s eyes glisten and a tear rolls down her cheek. Alan lifts her hand to his lips.

“Thank you, Teresa.”

He moves to Emma. She spreads her legs wide and tucks her skirt down. Alan moves between her legs. They kiss lightly. Alan starts to retreat but Emma’s arms stop him. He looks up at her. A faint smile greets him. They kiss again, a proper kiss this time. As he moves away her hand strokes his cheek.

The kisses with the other four are easier. They kiss as if they are used to kissing and there is none of the hesitation shown by Teresa and Emma.

Andrea claps her hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Thank you Alan, and all of you. Judith has been called away on a course so Teresa is taking her place. We've revised the script so that we all use our real names at the moment. That will changed before the performance, if there is one. The purpose of this evening is to establish whether we can live with the embarrassing aspects of the script. Nothing more. If we can’t, or if any of us can’t, then we have to rethink the whole project. The quality of the script, the production details, everything other than the embarrassing bits, are irrelevant tonight. Alan will be in action almost all the time but everyone will have to get down to business. April will set the scene for the first entrance of Alan. Everyone got their scripts ready? Yes? April – over to you.”


“Right,” says April. “The premise is that Princess Marie and her ladies, us, went away from her father’s court to study female magic for a long weekend, taking Marie’s tutor, er, Teresa, with them. Marie will be a witch Queen when she inherits the throne. Her father is a Wizard King. As yet Marie doesn’t know enough magic and her father can’t teach her the female magic. Marie has her dead mother’s book of spells but doesn’t know how to use them because the spells assume basic knowledge her mother didn’t have time to teach her. All Marie knows is that using magic without understanding is dangerous. Unfortunately Teresa has other plans. She wants to rule with Marie as her puppet. Teresa can’t use all the spells herself so she wants to enslave Marie and make her little more than a tool. That has to be done before Marie falls in love with a man. Once Marie knows love Teresa can’t override that and her plot will fail. OK so far?”

“We have read the script, April,” comments Chloe. “Get on with it, please.”

“I’ll try. Teresa has some magical powers. 

One. She has built a magical hedge barrier around the retreat. That barrier is impassable by man, woman or child but has one flaw. An adult male who is child sized can get through it. 

Two. She has a magical potion that makes whoever inhales it obey the person who has administered a mist or spray in the face. That potion is cumulative. Each application lasts longer and eventually becomes permanent but that would take longer than the planned weekend. It can be reversed by a kiss on the lips from a person of the opposite sex. The commands given to somebody under the influence of the potion can be either explicit and known or can be like a instruction under hypnosis where the subject doesn’t consciously know the command has been given. Teresa has commanded all of us not to let a man approach our faces. If an adult male dwarf penetrates the barrier we are told to capture him under our skirts, to hold him between our legs, and wait until someone else can take a message to Teresa. That is why we wear full long skirts. She could not risk us trying to tie the intruder up because in the struggle our faces may be vulnerable. 

Three. Teresa has accomplices, Emma and Julia, who will aid her once she is the power behind the throne. She sprays them as well, but her instructions to them are to watch Marie carefully for signs of rebellion. If they see any they are to spray Marie at once and send for help. Three. Teresa has made the area inside the barrier a different time zone. Outside it appears as if the ladies are away for a long weekend. Inside time is passing in weeks and months. At the end of Teresa’s plots, she will emerge with a controlled Marie after an apparent couple of days. 

That is the situation just after the prologue. Marie is sitting on a bench in the open air close to the hedge barrier, reading her mother’s book of spells when she hears Prince Alan crawling through the hedge. She rises, bends down and peers into the hedge and sees the top of Alan’s head. She looks around for help but there is no one. She can see a hole in the hedge where Alan will come out. She lies down placing her feet either side of the hole. Her skirt forms a tunnel into which Alan crawls.

Ready, Alan and Marie?”

“Not yet, April,” I say. “I haven’t got my hoop petticoat on.”

I struggle to heave the petticoat up under my skirt, then lie down. Alan crawls across the floor looking embarrassed. He crawls into my skirt. I roll over, wrapping the skirt around him. I look at the script lying on the floor beside me.

“Help!” I shout. “Anyone there? I’ve caught a man.”

The rest giggle nervously. This script is unbelievable.

“What are you doing?” cries a muffled Alan. “Let me out!”

I scissor my legs around him making a production of our struggle. Alan’s head tents my skirt. I push the bulge down with a hand.

“Shut up!” I say.

Alan’s head wiggles.

“What are you doing? What… Oh! That’s nice! Oh! Oh!”

I move sensuously on the floor. Then I sit up suddenly.

“The bitch! That bitch Teresa!” I shout. “I’ll get her for this! She isn’t going to control me!”

Alan wriggles frantically.

“Sorry,” I say. “I’ll let you out.”

I lift my skirt to my knees. Alan backs out and emerges red-faced.

“What was that for?” he asks.

April stops us.

“Skip the explanations. I’ve already done that. Go to Emma’s entrance.”

“OK,” I say. “Someone’s coming. Prince Alan, get under my skirt, please. Quickly.”

Alan burrows under my skirt. I wrap it around him hiding him completely.

“Emma! Thank goodness you’ve come. I’ve caught a dwarf creeping through the hedge.”

“You have?” says Emma, moving her hand to her skirt pocket. “Where is he?”

“Under my skirt, where else? Where he should be. Will you tell Teresa or will you hold him while I go?”

“I think you should tell Teresa, Princess Marie. You caught him. I’ll take him.”

“Get ready to swamp him. Lift your skirt.”

Emma lifts her skirt. I pull Alan out and push him under Emma’s skirt. Alan wriggles and Emma starts writhing. It isn’t all acting. Emma is really embarrassed and unhappy. I am supposed just to touch her shoulder but I hug her. Emma looks at me. Her lower lip is trembling as if she is about to burst into tears. 

“You can do it,” I whisper in her ear.

She nods almost imperceptibly.

“Oh! Oh!” she says. No one would believe that she was in ecstasy but she is trying.

“Now do you know what Teresa is up to?” I ask.

“Yes. I know the whole plot.”

Her hand dives into her skirt pocket and produces an imaginary atomiser which she pretends to spray in my face. I slump back.

“Yes, Marie, I know all about it. I’m part of it. Thanks to you, I’m now my own person, uncontrolled by Teresa but you… You have to be controlled if we are going to succeed.”

Emma’s voice is more confident.

“Now you listen to me,” she says, “Take off your belt and tie his ankles together.”

I do it.

“You use my belt to reach under my skirt and tie his hands.”

“What are you doing?” says a muffled Alan. “Princess Marie! Stop.”

I ignore his protests and lash his wrists together.

“Take off your scarf and gag him as he comes out,” Emma orders.

As she lifts her skirt I wrap my scarf around Alan’s mouth.

“Now bury him inside your skirt.”

I slide Alan under my skirt. At this point April is supposed to arrive.

“April,” says Emma. “Take off your belt.”

April does.

“Tie it around Princess Marie’s legs over her skirt,” orders Emma. “She’s trapped a dwarf. We want to keep him there.”

April swathes my skirt around my legs. She makes a pretence of tying my legs together. 

“Take your stockings off, April.”

April pretends to take the stockings, that she isn't actually wearing, off.

“Tie Princess Marie’s hands behind her back. Then gag her with your scarf and tie it in place with the other stocking. Marie! Stay still. Let April do it.”

April pretends to tie and gag me.

“Now, April, stay here and make sure that Marie doesn’t move and that the dwarf doesn’t get out. I’m going to get Teresa.”

Emma goes back to her chair and sits down.

April removes my imaginary gag.

“Marie!” she hisses. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” I say dully. “I can hear you, April.”

“I’m going to untie you and release the dwarf.”

“Mustn’t” I mutter.

“Yes we must. Keep still.”

April pretends to untie my hands, unties the belt around my skirt and uncovers the gagged and bound Alan. He shakes his head vigorously to try to dislodge the gag.

“You want to be ungagged?” April asks.

Alan nods.

“I don’t see any harm in that. You are still tied up.”

April removes my scarf from Alan’s mouth.

“Back in there,” Alan says, nodding towards my skirt. “In case someone comes.”

“I suppose so. It can’t do any harm.”

April pushes Alan under my skirt which billows as he moves.

“Oh!” I say but with much less emphasis than before. I shake my head groggily.

“April! What’s happened?”

“You’ve caught a dwarf. Emma’s gone to get Teresa.”

“Oh no. She can’t. Help Prince Alan out.”

“Are you sure? Isn’t he dangerous?”

“If you are worried, put him under your skirt, April.”

“I will. I’m not happy about this. Emma forced me to tie you up. I could have refused but that would have let her and Teresa know I’m not as controlled as the rest of you.”

While April is speaking she covers Alan with her skirt. Now it is her turn to writhe.

“Wow! That is wonderful. Do it again, Alan.”

April wriggles wildly.

“I’m free! Even the small compulsion I had to serve Teresa has gone. How?”

“I think it happens when Alan kisses you on the lips. We were ordered not to let him close to our faces. Teresa forgot that women have lower lips. Let Alan out now. He’s done what he needed to do to you.”

“He can do it again, anytime. He has a real talent, and not just for making spells of compulsion end.”

“I know, April, but we are still in danger. Teresa and Emma will be here soon.”

April uncovers Alan. We untie him. I pick him up and sit him on my lap.

April claps her hands. Alan and I stare at her. That isn’t in the script.

“OK. That’s a good start. Time for a coffee break. How does everybody feel about it so far? Alan?”

“It wasn’t easy but I think I could do it again.” He replies.

“Emma?”

“I admit I was worried. Alan behaved very well. So did Marie. They helped. I didn’t like having a man close to my… you know, but Alan actually kept away from it. He was being very tactful. I could hug him for that.”

“Then why don’t you?” I say.

Emma holds out her arms to Alan. He walks over to her. She pulls him tightly against her breasts and kisses his head. His eyes twinkle at me.

During coffee we discuss the first scene. We won’t be doing the next scene because it is between Teresa, Emma and Julia. In the third scene Alan has to perform again, this time with Andrea and Sandra.

Neither Alan nor I are worried about Andrea. Sandra we think will be reasonably tolerant. Emma was one of the women we were really concerned about. She ties Alan up. She could overdo it.

Alan still has to face his ordeal of Julia and Teresa. This is only the first read-through. Can he, and the women’s group, really go through with this on stage?



Pantomime Dwarf Pt. 04



Chapter 06

Alan and I are part way through the first reading of my women’s group pantomime script. This reading is to see whether Alan, I, and the others can go through with the overtly sexual actions required on stage.

Alan is a dwarf. I am a giantess yet we have become more than friends. Alan was worried about the actions he is required to do. He isn’t the only one. Most of the women’s group have had unpleasant experiences with men and some, notably Teresa and Emma, were not sure that they could act with Alan.

The first part has gone well. Emma managed to cope with Alan’s close proximity. Alan has ‘performed’ with me, Emma and April. His performances are under our skirts where he has to pretend to kiss our pussies. So far so good, but…

“Marie?” 

Emma is standing beside me. She keeps her voice low.

“Yes, Emma.” I reply.

“I’m worried about my reaction to Alan.” She whispers.

“Why?” I whisper back.

“I think I enjoyed it.”

“Why not? It is supposed to be enjoyable.”

“Maybe Marie, but Alan didn’t do ‘it’. He pretended to and actually kept well away from my pussy. No. What I am worried about is that I enjoyed having Alan in such a humiliating position under my skirt. I wanted to wrap my legs around his head and squeeze hard.”

“But you didn’t, Emma. You treated Alan carefully, as he did you.”

“Yes. But the desire to hurt him was there.”

“I’m not surprised. Nor would he be. He was concerned that you might make him suffer as compensation for what men have done to you. He was scared stiff. You could have hurt him and we couldn’t have done anything about it except haul you off afterwards.”

“A man frightened of me? I’m scared of them.”

“I know, Emma. Some of them have given you good reason to be scared. Alan’s not like that. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t hurt you. He is too small. You could stop him doing anything. Any of us could. That scares him. Under our skirts during this pantomime any of us could be cruel and he couldn’t resist. Some of us have justification to be cruel to certain men – if we could. But we shouldn’t think that men did the harm to us. It was particular men who are not typical of all men or even more than a small minority of them. Those individuals hurt us, not every man. Can you understand that?”

“I wish I could accept it, Marie, but I had three men in succession who hurt me badly. It wasn’t just bad luck that I got those three.”

“No, Emma, it wasn’t. You, the others, and I all attracted the wrong sort of men. We sent out the wrong messages. We wanted powerful men and got controlling bastards. We are learning together how to survive after what we’ve been through. Hopefully we will find reasonable men who will treat us as partners and not as slaves. If not, we can always live without men as a last resort.”

“Speak for yourself!” Emma retorted. “I like sex.”

“So do I, but not if I get beaten up every time. Alan isn’t like that. With me he couldn’t be.”

“No. I can see the attraction. Alan is no threat. I liked having him at my mercy. I’m still surprised that I was merciful.”

“It takes strength to show mercy, Emma. Not strength of muscle, strength of character. Think about that. Maybe this pantomime will have a use if we learn to live like humans again instead of vengeance filled Furies.”

“Thank Alan for me, Marie.”

“No. I won’t. You thank him yourself. You are strong enough to admit your own concerns.”

Emma walks across to Alan’s armchair and squats down beside him. I can’t hear what they say over the general hubbub but Emma picks Alan up, and sits down in his chair holding him against her. She waves at me. I wave back and try to concentrate on a discussion between Andrea and April about the next scene.

Andrea finishes her discussion with April and comes over to me. She seems puzzled. She pointedly looks at Alan and Emma who are talking to each other.

“Marie, aren’t you worried about Alan with Emma?”

“No. Should I be? They are working through their fears.”

“Their fears?”

“Yes. Alan is afraid of being hurt physically or mentally by one of us. Emma is one of his more likely assailants…”

“…and Teresa’s the other?”

I nod.

“But how can you let your man – I assume Alan is yours?”

I nod again.

“How can you let him be so intimate with Emma?”

“They’re not intimate.”

“Not? He’s sitting on her lap, for fuck’s sake!”

“That way neither is threatening the other. How can Alan be a threat to Emma if she’s holding him like a baby? Or how can Emma be a threat to Alan if he has expressed that much trust in her? Alan’s concerns are only about the interaction in this pantomime. Generally he is self-confident and unafraid in social situations. Emma’s fears are much greater and she has real reason for them. Alan will be good for her. He is an adult male yet not a threat to her in any sense. Physically he couldn’t be. You know Alan nearly as well as I do except for the last couple of days. He is polite and courteous. He is not the sort of person to try and dominate anyone by denigration or sarcasm.”

“And you trust him?”

“Yes, Andrea. I trust him. He trusts me as well.”

Andrea hugs me.

“You two are unbelievable. I wish I could find such love as that. How long has it been? Two days? Yet you trust each other. Physically you are the most unlikely couple this town has ever seen yet…”

“I admit it, we’re in love.”

“You are going to have a hard time, Marie. There will be jokes about you two.”

“We know there will be. We are used to jokes about our size as individuals. They hurt but after all these years we have grown thick skins about the jokes. The novelty will wear off after a while. We’d appreciate some support from you and the group and perhaps a little bit of tact.”

“I’ll try. Most of us will be jealous but given our past that might be a good thing. It might make us realise that not all men are bastards.”

“They’re not. Our men might have been, but they are not all men. We still have to be careful. We are vulnerable to the wrong sort of men, and too prickly with the right sort. We need to rebuild our confidence and strength as women. Some of us have been so knocked about physically and mentally that we are going to find that hard.”

“You don’t need to remind me, Marie. I’ve still got the scars.”

“Where is he now?”

“He’s still in jail. He will be eligible for parole in a few months and I’m scared.”

It is my turn to hug Andrea.

“We’ll all be here for you, Andrea. So will the Police. If he comes back to this town and tries to contact you he’ll be arrested. That injunction is valid for another five years.”

“I know, but he is such a persistent and vicious bastard.”

“Perhaps you should be away from home when he gets out. You could stay with me for a week or so. If he returns your neighbours would spot him. They know him well.”

“Thanks, Marie. I might take up your offer. I will be petrified once he’s out.”

“Then come straight to me.”

“Even if Alan is with you?”

“Yes. Alan would accept you just as I would. Want to try? Go and ask him. Ask whether he’d help you hide.”

“Later, perhaps. I don’t want to interrupt his tête a tête with Emma. They seem to be doing well together. I ought to round everybody up for the second part of the read through.”

“OK. But remember that I’m here for you, Andrea.”

“Thanks, Marie. It is good to know I have friends.”

Andrea starts getting the cast ready. Emma hugs and kisses Alan before letting him go. He comes straight to me.

“Sorry, Marie. Emma and I needed to talk.”

“Is that what you call it?” I ask with a raised eyebrow. “You two seemed to be doing more than talk.”

Alan takes my hand and kisses it.

“You know what I was doing.”

I hug him to my hip.

“Yes, Alan, I know. Is Emma feeling better about men – even a little bit?”

“It’s a start. Her experiences have been all bad. If I can help…”

“I’m sure you can. So will this silly pantomime.”

“Silly? You think that too?”

“Don’t you?”

“I’m trying to be tactful, Marie. I don’t think this thing will ever be performed. Do you?”

“No, I don’t. But don’t say so. Not yet. Even these rehearsals are helping some of us deal with our fears and making us work together as a group. The script was written by a sub-committee. They have learnt a lot together, I think. Translating that script into a performance may be impossible.”

“Not impossible, Marie. It could be done. Whether it should be performed is another question.”

“I think you and I should leave the others to answer that question by themselves, Alan. They would be very sensitive to criticism from us. We are outsiders to the core group.”

“I agree. We’ll let them find out the hard way. I’d even go all the way to actually performing, if that’s what they want.”

“You’re sure? You were very worried before we came in tonight.”

“I know. I have you to defend me, and now perhaps Emma might as well.”

“She’s made that much change? Tonight?”

“I have misled her slightly. We talked more about my fears than hers. She isn’t ready to come clean about her own worries. I told her that I was afraid of being hurt during this rehearsal and asked her to help look out for me. She knows you will protect me, but now she will as well. It’s good for her to be thinking that she can protect someone else. Apart from Teresa I think I’m safe with all of you, but Emma doesn’t know that.”

“And Emma is Teresa’s friend. Are you sure you know what you are doing? She may have to choose between you and her friend."

“I don’t think it will come to that. She might have to use her friendship to stop Teresa doing something that Teresa would regret but that would be good for all three of us.”

“I hope you are right. It’s your neck at risk.”

Andrea calls everyone together for the next scene.

“Everybody! The next scene is the confrontation between Teresa who thinks she’s still in control and Marie who isn’t. Ready? Marie, off you go.”

“April, how have you avoided control by the spray?” I ask.

“It’s not easy. One time I had a sneeze coming when Teresa sprayed me in the face. I stopped the sneeze until she had gone past and then stifled it in my hand. Later in the day the previous application wore off and I knew that we were being controlled. The next time Teresa used the spray I had breathed in just before she reached me. I breathed out slowly as the spray hit me. I still get some of the effects but I can resist the compulsion if I try. You’ve had so many more doses that I think you will find it harder, Princess Marie. Try. Can you kiss Prince Alan on his lips?”

“I don’t know. Alan? Will you try to kiss me please?”

“Certainly, Princess Marie.”

Alan comes towards me. I bend down but each time he comes close I pull back and away. He tries one last time.

“I can’t kiss you if you move away, Marie.” Alan says.

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s Teresa’s compulsion still working.”

“Shall I try the other lips again, Marie?”

“It might work…”

I lift my skirt. Alan dives underneath and the skirt heaves as he moves into position. I jump as his lips actually touch my pussy.

“Alan!” I exclaim.

The others look at me. That’s not in the script. I blush bright red and get knowing smiles in return from most. Back to the script.

“I’m sorry, Alan, it doesn’t seem to be working.”

“Perhaps you need several applications,” says a muffled Alan from under my skirt. I flinch again as his lips brush my inner thighs.

“We haven’t got time,” April says. “We have to be prepared for Teresa. What are we going to do?”

I lift my skirt and push Alan out.

“We have to hide Alan from her until we have released the others.” I say. “How? There’s nowhere here for him to hide apart from those bushes and they are too far away.”

“There’s your cloak…” April says.

“My cloak?”

“Yes. He could hide under that. He could be a huddle on the ground, or better on your back while you are wearing it. Teresa would never look for him ON you.”

“I’ll try it. Alan?”

He climbs to my back while I’m sitting on the bench. He wraps his legs around my waist and April arranges my long blonde hair over his head. She puts the cloak around me, fluffing up the hood to conceal Alan’s outline.

“There!” she says. I can’t see him. The cloak looks natural. We are nearly ready but you should be tied and gagged, Marie. I’m supposed to be watching you.”

“Shh!” I hiss. “Someone’s coming. Wrap the scarf loosely around my face. The cloak will hide my lack of bonds.”

April wraps the scarf over my lower face and ties it loosely under my hair.

Andrea announces “I and Sandra are supposed to enter at this point.”

“April!” she says. “Why is Princess Marie gagged?”

April speaks as if she is drugged. “Emma ordered it. She’s gone to fetch Teresa because Marie caught a dwarf.”

“She didn’t!” exclaims Andrea.

“She did. She caught him under her skirt. He’s tied up under there now.”

“Can we see?” asks Sandra.

“I suppose so.” Replies April dully. “Turn your backs for a minute while I get him out.”

She uncovers Alan who lies on the floor as if his hands and feet are tied. I remain on the bench wearing the cloak.

“You can look now,” announces April.

“There’s not much of him, is there?” says Sandra. “I can see why he was easily trapped under a skirt. Even I could do that.”

“Why don’t you try?” suggests April.

“Why not?”

Sandra lifts her skirt. April pushes the ‘bound’ Alan underneath, whispering in his ear as she does. She moves to Sandra’s side. As Alan’s kiss takes effect she clamps her hand over Sandra’s mouth and hisses in her ear.

“Don’t say anything until Andrea has tried as well. You are free from Teresa’s compulsion?”

Sandra nods slightly. April takes her hand away.

“That was interesting. He wriggles a lot but is easily controlled with a squeeze. Want to try, Andrea?”

“Yes,” replies Andrea, “Why not?”

April and Sandra push Alan under Andrea’s skirt. She flinches and then cries “Oh!”. She wriggles seductively before letting out a passionate moan.

“Why didn’t you tell me, April?” she asks. “Of course. You couldn’t. I was under Teresa’s influence. Now I’m not. None of us are, I assume.”

“We’re not,” I say, pulling the loose gag away, “but Emma has gone to get Teresa. We need to be ready for them. Emma left me tied and gagged with April to watch me. That’s what she must find when they arrive. Emma is working for Teresa without the need to be controlled. So is Julia. We have three of them against us four…”

“…Five,” says a very muffled Alan under Andrea’s skirt. “Don’t forget me.”

Andrea lifts her skirt hurriedly.

“Sorry Alan.”

Alan’s face is bright red as he is uncovered. I look at him. He shakes his head signalling me to keep quiet.

“Alan is no use in what’s to come,” says April. “Sorry, Alan, but it’s true. We need you to counteract the compulsion but that won’t work on Emma or Julia. They are working for Teresa willingly. We need you to be safe just in case any of us get sprayed.”

“Hurry, “ I say, “We need to set the scene. I should appear to be tied up with April watching me. If Andrea and Sandra take Alan and hide behind those bushes they can creep up behind the others while they are looking at us. If we can gag Teresa so she can’t issue commands we will have won. I’ll try to smother her in my cloak until we can gag her. I’m bigger and stronger than her. The rest of you try to keep Emma and Julia from interfering. How’s that for a plan?”

“Good enough,” replies April, “If we can do it. Watch out for Teresa’s spray.”

“Emma’s got one too,” I remind her.

“So she has. We should get it and spray her. Marie, be careful with Teresa. We need her to destroy her own spells or we won’t get out of here. Don’t break her neck.”

“I’ll try, April. I know what is at stake. Everyone to their places. April.

Andrea claps her hands. 

“Break there. We’ll do the next bit in ten minutes.”

We relax. Alan touches my hand.

“What happened under Andrea’s skirt?” I ask.

“She’s naked underneath,” he says. “that was a shock. She pushed my head against her pussy. I tried to turn to one side but she held me so that my nose and mouth were covered by her lips. I couldn’t breathe.”

“Andrea?”

“Yes. Andrea. I thought I was safe with her.”

“I’ll wring her neck.”

“No, Marie. Andrea must have had a reason for it. Now she’s embarrassed. She knows she shouldn’t have done it. I’ll ask her why.”

Alan went after Andrea. He caught her hand as she was walking out of the door into the main hall. She looked down at him, her shoulders slumped, and they passed out of my sight.

What was Andrea up to? Alan and I thought that Teresa and Emma were the threats. Now Andrea, whom were thought was on our side, had forced herself on Alan. Why?

Alan still has to endure intimate contact with Teresa, Julia and Andrea again in the next scene. Can he go through with it if Andrea might facesit him again?



Pantomime Dwarf Pt. 05



Andrea has just left the room with Alan, my dwarf boyfriend. She is upset because she has just facesat Alan during the talk-through of our women's group pantomime.

She did it without panties and pulled Alan right into her cleft so that she was smothering him – in front of all of us and me. Alan was hidden under her skirt so no one realised what she had done.

I should be furious but I'm feeling sorry for Andrea. Her ex-husband is due out of jail soon, convicted of a series of assaults on her. She is worried. So am I. What was she thinking? It can't have been spontaneous. She knew Alan would have to pretend to kiss her pussy yet she had left her panties off. Why?

I hope Alan can find out why.

"Marie?"

"Yes, April."

"We should get on with the rehearsal. We can't without Alan."

"OK. I'll get him." 

I sigh under my breath. What will I find beyond that door?

As I enter the main hall I find Andrea sitting on the floor with Alan's arms around her. She is crying. She sees me and shrinks against Alan.

"You!" she exclaims.

"Yes, Andrea, me. Who did you expect?"

"I've betrayed you," She wails.

"Rubbish!" I retort. "The only person who has a right to be annoyed is Alan. I'm sure he isn't. He doesn't look annoyed to me, not the way he is holding you."

"He's been great, Marie. I wish I hadn't..."

"But you did, and he's forgiven you, hasn't he?"

Alan nods with a faint smile.

"But..." Andrea starts to wail again.

"Andrea," Alan says, "I told you Marie wouldn't mind. She doesn't. I know why you did it. I can tell her. You don't need to. It's over."

"We need to get on with the reading," I add.

"I can't go back in there," Andrea wails again. "I can't face them."

"Why not?" I ask. "They don't know what you did."

"I just can't..."

I realise that Andrea is beyond reason at the moment.

"I'll get April to take you home. I'm sure we can get through the rest without you two. We need Alan. The read-through is pointless without him. He's still got to face Teresa and Julia."

"But they'll hurt him..."

"No they won't. I won't let them."

I go back into the rehearsal room and beckon to April. I ask her to take Andrea home. She agrees and gathers up her belongings and Andrea's. Alan comes back into the room a couple of minutes after April left.

This time I clap my hands for attention.

"April has taken Andrea home. Andrea found this too much for her. Can we get on?"

Teresa speaks. She has been very quiet all evening so far which was unusual and worries me.

"Marie. All of you."

She has our attention.

"I've had enough of this. The only reason we are here tonight is to see whether we can put Alan under our skirts and live with him pretending to kiss our cunts. Yes?"

There are several nods.

"I can understand that could be difficult for some of us. All of us have been victims of men but for fuck's sake we are not talking about some brawny jock with all his brains in his prick, are we?"

Nods again.

"Alan is our friend. He is a man. He is a kind, considerate, intelligent man, totally unlike the bastards who wrecked our lives."

Alan blushes bright red. Teresa stands beside him and rests her hand on his head. Then she kneels down beside him.

"Alan. You know I have good reason to hate men."

He nods.

"Yet I am proud to call you my friend. You have done more for me, and for the rest of our group, than many others have. Will you kiss your friend, please?"

Alan throws his arms around Teresa's head and kisses her. When they part both are crying.

Teresa stands up, holding Alan's hand.

"Let's get this over. Julia? Please come here."

Julia joins Alan and Teresa. She too has been very quiet this evening.

"Julia and I are nervous about this, aren't we?"

"Yes, Teresa."

"So we are going to get through it together. Julia, lift your skirt and let Alan get under it."

Julia hesitates but pulls her skirt to her knees. Teresa lets go of Alan's hand and grabs Julia's.

"Under you go, Alan."

Alan looks up at Julia and smiles at her. She gives him a weak smile in return. He ducks under her skirt. She unclasps her hand and lets her skirt fall over him.

"OK, Julia?" Teresa asks.

"Yes."

"Now feel for the back of Alan's head. When you have found it, press his face lightly against you."

Teresa lets go of Julia's hand. Julia presses Alan against herself.

"There. That wasn't difficult, was it? Now let him out."

"Must I?" Julia was just confident enough to make a joke.

She lifts her skirt and Alan stands up beside her. He kisses her hand. She hugs him to her hip.

"Thank you Alan. I can't say I enjoyed it... but I've done it."

"Thank you, Alan," says Teresa. "Now there is only me left. Ready?"

"Yes, Teresa," Alan answers.

"Come on then."

Teresa lifts her skirt and throws it over Alan's head. His feet shuffle as he is thrown slightly off balance.

"There!" says Teresa. "Even I have done it. I can understand Andrea's reluctance but I couldn't see why any of us should find it difficult with Alan."

She stops. 

"You can come out now, Alan."

"Must I?" he says, echoing Julia and causing all of us to laugh.

"Yes!" Teresa lifts her skirt and pushes him away.

"Thank you, Teresa," he says.

"For what, Alan? Putting you in a humiliating position and treating you like an object? Because that is what we have done this evening. We have behaved as badly to Alan as many men have behaved to us. We have treated him as a male and not a person. I am ashamed of us. So should we all be. I think this pantomime is absolute rubbish even though I wrote a large part of it. Who agrees that it is crap?" 

I can see they there are all shocked. This is heresy from the prime mover of the project. Emma speaks first.

"It could be improved, Teresa..."

"Improved! How? The whole thing is a self-indulgent mess. You have seen how bad it is tonight. Who would come to see that? We stuff a dwarf – Sorry Alan – under our skirts repeatedly. It might have some shock value the first time but after that? There's no plot, no action. OK. We have shoehorned in some songs and some dances borrowed from stage musicals but it isn't a pantomime is it?"

"Oh yes it is!" says a quiet voice behind us.

"Oh no it isn't!" retorts Teresa.

"Oh yes it is!" we chorus.

"That's more like a pantomime," says Teresa. "We should do what we should have done from the start. We should ask Alan for advice. Alan? Seriously. Is this a pantomime?"

"Well..."

"Out with it. Is it? Or isn't it?"

"Honestly, I have to say... it isn't."

Teresa turns back to us.

"There you are. From an expert. It is NOT a pantomime. It might be something else but a pantomime it is not. I suggest that we meet at the normal time next week, invite Alan to join us for that meeting, and discuss how to produce a REAL pantomime. Agreed?"

We agreed. It seems the best way out of the mess.

Julia tugs at Teresa's sleeve.

"Yes, Julia? You want to say something?"

"Yes," Julia starts in a nervous voice. "I'd like to say that this thing, pantomime or not, has helped me face myself. Without it..."

She stops and looks at Alan. He goes to her. She clutches him against her waist.

Teresa speaks softly, not in her normal hectoring tone.

"Julia. You have been almost cataleptic this evening, totally out of it. Are you OK?"

"I think so. I was petrified of what I had to do with Alan. Silly, isn't it?"

"No. It wasn't silly," I say quietly. "We know you have had bad experiences..."

"Bad? I suppose that's one way of putting it."

I become really concerned. Julia has never spoken of the things her man did to her, not to us, not to her psychiatrist, nobody.

"What do you want to say, Julia?" Alan asks.

"I have never let anybody as close to my pussy as Alan has been this evening, not since HE left."

We all know who 'HE' was.

"I haven't dared put anything in there, not even a tampon."

There is a silence you could feel.

"He used to push things inside me. He said I was too tight, too small, too..."

Julia is crying. We rush to hug her, swamping poor Alan among our bodies. He yells "Hey!" from between our skirts.

Julia looks down at him and holds out her arms. He climbs into them. She rests his head against hers as we surround her. He kisses her cheek and she smiles weakly at him.

"Sorry Alan."

"That's OK, Julia. I was being trampled in the rush of your friends coming to comfort you. Did you know you had so many?"

"No. Thank you for reminding me. What was I saying? Oh, yes. I'm scarred down there but the scars have healed. The scars that really hurt are in my head. That's true of most of us. Alan, and Teresa, who pushed me into actually putting Alan close to me, have shown me that there is more than pain. I'm not healed. I've barely started to admit that I need to heal but knowing what is wrong is something. For that, I am grateful to this thing that is not a pantomime. And thanks to all of you for your patience."

Julia might have said more but she was kissed by all of us. So was Alan while Julia was holding him at a kissable height. When we'd finished she held Alan out to me.

"Here you are, Marie. He's yours, as much as he is anybody's."

I took Alan from her.

"I think he will always be his own person. Perhaps I will be my own sometime soon."

Alan climbed down to the floor.

"Julia?"

She was drying her tears on her handkerchief.

"Yes, Alan?"

"Want to prove that it wasn't a fluke? That you can do it without being pressured by Teresa?"

"Why not?"

Julia lifted her skirt. Alan dived under it and the material heaved. Julia's face went bright red.

"Alan!" she protested.

His head emerged from under the hem of her skirt. He looked up at her.

"You called?"

"You did it!" she said mock accusingly. "You kissed my lips."

"Er... Yes. Why not? That's what they are for. Want another?"

He dived under her skirt again before she could stop him. She gasped, clamped her legs together and rapped on his swathed head.

"No! Enough!" she said.

Alan came out.

"Are you sure, Julia?"

"Enough for tonight in front of my friends. Perhaps..."

"Perhaps Marie will let you borrow me?"

"I might, " I said.

"That's what pussies are for," Alan said. "To be worshipped and adored."

"Maybe," Julia said, "But it isn't something to do in public, is it, Alan?"

"That's what I've been doing all evening, Julia."

"And we shouldn't have asked you to. We were humiliating you and for what? To prove that this pantomime wasn't worth doing. Thank you, Alan."

"My pleasure." Alan winked at her.

"Alan!" she squeaked in protest and then giggled. That was the nicest sound we had heard from Julia in over a year.

After that the meeting broke up. Teresa and Julia kissed Alan before they left. As we walked back across the car park I asked:

"Pleased with yourself, Alan?"

"Yes, and No. I shouldn't have kissed Julia. It was too much of a risk."

"You shouldn't. It worked but..."

"I could have damaged her, couldn't I?"

"Yes. For someone who didn't know how to kiss pussies you performed brilliantly."

"I'm still surprised about Teresa's reaction. I didn't expect to be declared 'her friend'. I'm honoured but it was totally unexpected."

"The evening wasn't as bad as we thought it might be, was it?"

"Except for Andrea. She is still unhappy."

"Why did she do it?"

"She wanted reassurance that she was still attractive to men. She thought if she presented the opportunity I couldn't refuse it. She was right. I couldn't, but not for the reason she expected. It would have been like turning away from a kiss. I would have humiliated her. I had to go through with it but then she forced me into her. She humiliated me. That was what she was ashamed about. I tried to reassure her but she's angry with herself. I invited her to visit us tomorrow. Is that OK?"

"Yes, Alan. When?"

"10 am. It might be an idea to ring her about quarter of an hour before then to remind her. That way she won't 'forget'. She won't want to come." 

"I'll ring her. What do we do now?"

"Go home and go to bed. I don't know about you, but this evening has been a strain. There were too many raw emotions on display and I feel as if I've been walking a tight-rope with hungry crocodiles waiting to see if I'd fall."

"Do you mean go to our own homes? Apart?"

"I think so, Marie. We need time to get over tonight. Tomorrow night? We could be refreshed for you to teach me some more."

"Or perhaps you could teach me?"

"Maybe. We have time to take things at a reasonable pace. I love you..."

"I love you, Alan."

"There! We've said it. We knew it but we hadn't told each other in words, had we? On that, I think we should kiss and part until tomorrow morning."

We kissed. I watched Alan walk the short distance to the corner of his road. I set off home.

As I walked I wondered whether everything had really worked out as well as it seemed to have done. Had Teresa really changed or was her friendship for Alan an act? Would Julia progress from tonight? Was Emma OK? Andrea was tomorrow's problem but all of us had real issues to face. Andrea's husband was the most obvious threat but we were our own worst enemies. All of us, including Alan, were damaged in some way. Could we put ourselves back together.

I was still turning everything over in my brain when I fell asleep dreaming of Alan's lips on my pussy and his 'I love you' echoing in my head. 



Pantomime Dwarf Pt. 06



Copyright Jeanne D'Artois April 2004/May 2013

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. 

*************************************************

Chapter Eight

I woke up with a warm feeling between my legs as if Alan had just finished kissing my pussy. I lay in bed blissfully dreaming of his lips and remembering the 'I love you' of last night.

Alan and I have been an item for what? Three days? Yet he was now an essential part of my life. We would have to face public ridicule because of the vast disparity in our sizes. He is a dwarf and I am a giantess. So what? We're in love.

Yesterday evening had been a trial for both of us and for our friends. We had been reading through the women's group pantomime that called for Alan to pretend to kiss the pussies of every woman on stage. The reading had demonstrated that he, and they, could endure that but the emotions raised had been raw. Andrea had presented him with her bare lips. He had obliged her by kissing them but she'd been racked by guilt. She would be joining us this morning. I hoped we could get her to accept that what she did was trivial.

Washed, dressed and breakfasted, I answered the phone. Alan was on his way. He reminded me to ring Andrea to ensure she would come. I did. She was reluctant but she too was on her way. I put the coffeepot on.

Alan arrived first. I swung him up into my arms. We kissed. I hugged him to me. We had barely spoken a word to each other, being busy with more interesting activities, when Andrea arrived. She looked unhappy. I passed Alan to her because he can't hug a normal sized woman when standing on his own two feet.

They kissed then Andrea put Alan down. I hugged her, noticing that she was dressed very differently. She usually wore a skirt. Last night, in common with the women's entire group, she had worn a long full skirt so that Alan could get underneath. This morning she was wearing jeans. They looked good on her but they were such a change that I commented.

"I'm wearing these so I don't get tempted," Andrea said.

"Tempted?"

"Yes. I liked Alan against my pussy. It was wrong and I'm sorry but I'd like more. No man ever did that to me without an ulterior motive. They did it as a passing duty, no more. With Alan..."

"...But Alan's mine," I said.

"I know," Andrea replied. "That's why I'm wearing the jeans. I'd like more, but not from someone who is already committed to you."

"Thank you, Andrea," said Alan. "but it wasn't necessary. You are strong enough to control yourself without wearing jeans, aren't you?"

"I hope so, but after last night I'm not sure."

"Of course you are," I retorted. "What you need is a good man between your legs."

Andrea laughed hollowly.

"Where will I find one of those? With Dirk coming out of prison soon, any 'good' man would be scared off. He is a violent bastard and would half kill anyone he found with me."

"But you are not his," objected Alan. "You are divorced and you have an injunction against Dirk coming anywhere near you."

"That didn't stop him before. It wouldn't stop him now. He thinks I'm his 'property' and he only has to claim me."

"He won't." I said. "If he tries, he'll get arrested."

"That might be too late. I'm really afraid that he'll kill me if he can."

Alan went into the kitchen to fetch the coffee. Andrea stopped talking as soon as he left the room. When he returned we drank the coffee and talked about non-controversial subjects. I was just about to try to re-start the conversation about Andrea's action with Alan when my phone rang.

"Marie!"

"Yes."

"It's Julia. Is Andrea with you?"

"Yes."

"Thank goodness. Get her out of there -- anywhere. Now! Dirk's out of jail and back in town. He went to her house but it was empty. April came along to see Andrea and he recognised April as one of Andrea's friends. He beat her up in the street until she told him the names and addresses of Andrea's friends. The neighbours called the police but April is badly injured. Dirk took off before the police arrived. He is going round everyone's house and the police need time to cover us all. Get going."

"OK Julia. We're on the move. I'll get back to you on my mobile."

"Dirk's got April's mobile. It has all our numbers on it. He's on a motorbike. Go!"

I put the phone down. 

Andrea was as white as a sheet.

"I heard that. Where can I go?"

"My van's outside," said Alan. "In the back of it you won't be seen. Marie? Will you check before Andrea leaves with us?"

"OK."

I opened the front door and looked up and down the street. There was no one in sight. Andrea rushed out carrying Alan. She climbed in the back of the van. I slammed the front door and joined her in the back.

Alan drove off at a normal speed.

"Andrea? Does Dirk know about me?"

"No. I don't think so. He was in jail before I met you or joined the women's group. He knew April because we've been friends a long time."

"Is my telephone number likely to be on April's mobile?"

"Shouldn't think so. Has she ever rung you?"

"No. But we are 'thinking' he doesn't know. We don't KNOW what he does know. We're going to somewhere he won't know. You certainly don't. Even Marie doesn't know of it."

"Where?"

"My uncle's farm. It has the ideal place to hole up. I'd ring to tell him we're on the way, but not while I'm driving. This van has hand controls because I can't reach the pedals. I need my hands all the time. Marie can ring Julia back. Has she warned the others?"

I reached for my phone and speed-dialled Julia.

"Julia?"

"Yes, Marie."

"We're on the move. I won't tell you where we're going in case..."

"I understand."

"Have you told the others?"

"Yes. They and I are on the way to the hospital to see April. The police approve. If we are together they can protect us. What shall I tell them?"

"Give them my number. They can ring me."

"OK. Good luck."

Alan turned down a farm road.

"Are you sure this will be safe?" I asked. "It looks isolated."

"It will be if we've got time to get out of the van and into the refuge. Can you see anyone following?"

Andrea and I peer out through the small back windows.

"No. Can't see anyone."

"OK. A couple of minutes."

We pull into a farmyard.

"Out!" Alan orders. "Over there, up that ladder."

The lightweight aluminium ladder is leaning against a Martello Tower, one of the ones built along the coast to deter Napoleon. The ladder leads to the only entrance, twelve feet up in the air. Andrea rushes up the ladder as if Dirk is behind her. Alan locks the van and follows me. 

"Pull the ladder up," he orders.

I heave it up easily.

"Now shut and bar the door."

The door opens inwards. I heave it shut. It is very heavy and studded with metal. The bar is wrought iron and very heavy. I drop it in place. With the door shut the interior is very dark.

"OK," Alan sighs. "Dirk can't get at us here. No one could without explosives and this tower is designed to resist even them. More coffee, anyone?"

"Coffee?" I ask, stunned.

"Yes, Coffee. I use this place as a retreat when I want to get away from it all. I rent it from my uncle for a nominal sum. I keep basic supplies here but you'll have to make do with long life milk."

Andrea slumps against a wall. I rush to her.

"I wish it was all over. Now April is injured for me. I wish Dirk were dead. Only that way will I be free of him."

"Don't think of him," said Alan. "When the police catch him he'll be back inside for the rest of his sentence and whatever he gets given for the attack on April. Now, follow me upstairs to the living area."

He turns on a light that illuminates a central spiral staircase. At the top is a huge open plan room split into living, dining and sleeping areas. Only the kitchen and bathroom are partitioned. Alan starts to make coffee. I ring Julia.

"Julia? Marie again. We're in a safe place. How's April?"

"Not too bad. It looked worse than it was. He's broken her right arm and she's badly bruised. He left her face alone."

"He would," commented Andrea who was listening in. "He's had plenty of practice at hitting where it doesn't show."

"Have the police any clue where Dirk is?"

"No. We have warned all the neighbours we could reach to look out for him but many of them are out because it's such a nice day. The police are patrolling but all we know is that he has a motorbike -- no number, no make. He'd parked it around the corner from Andrea's house and with a helmet on no one recognised him or noticed him until he started beating Julia up."

Alan handed me a cup of coffee. Andrea's hands were shaking too much to hold a cup. He put it beside her.

"Let us know if the police find him. I'll ring the police station in a minute. Bye."

Alan picked up his mobile and dialled his uncle.

"Uncle Fred?"

"Speak up, lad, I'm at the market."

"Of course. Sorry. I'm in the Martello Tower hiding from an angry ex-husband."

"You would be, me lad. But why an ex-husband? I can understand an angry husband but an EX-husband?"

"Too long to explain, Uncle Fred. There could be danger here, real danger. Please ring me first before coming back to the farm."

"If you say so, lad. Seems a bit far-fetched. I'll want a proper explanation later."

"You'll get it. Just remember. Ring me before coming back to the farm."

"You mean it, don't you?"

"Yes, Uncle Fred. I mean it. I'm not joking."

"I can hear that. OK. I'll ring when I'm about to leave."

"Thanks Uncle Fred."

Alan turned to us. 

"Uncle Fred is only a little bigger than I am. I don't want him to face Dirk. How about ringing the police, Marie?"

I dialled the police station.

"Hello, this is Marie. I'm with Andrea."

"OK, Marie. Don't say too much. Mobile phones can be overheard. Understand?"

"Yes. We have taken her to a Napoleonic place of safety. We don't think he knows of it, but even if he comes we can survive a siege. If we see him we'll let you know."

"OK. I've guessed where. Keep your heads down. He's not safe to approach."

"We know that."

"Ring me back in an hour, please. We can reach you on this number?"

"Yes. Will ring in a hour."

As soon as I ended the call we heard a motorbike. Andrea and I rushed towards one of the few windows.

"Stop!" shouted Alan. "Don't let him see you. Keep away from the windows. Come to the stairwell. NOW!"

Andrea and I stopped. We walked carefully back towards the stairwell as the motorbike's noise got louder.

"In here," said Alan, opening a small door beside the stairwell. We ducked our heads to enter. Alan shut the door behind us and pulled a lever. I gasped. On a round table in front of us was a brilliant picture of the outside.

"It's a camera obscura. My great uncle installed it. We can see him, if it is Dirk, without him seeing us."

My phone rings.

"Marie? This is Dirk. Remember me? Andrea's husband? I know she's with you. I know you're here. I recognise that runt's van, that short arse you're wasting yourself on. You should find yourself a real man, not a child sized baby."

I can't stop myself retorting:

"He's more of a man than you'll ever be, you twisted bastard."

"I thought you wouldn't resist that jibe. Now send Andrea out to me. We have things to settle."

"Never!"

I can see that Alan has dialled the police on his mobile. He motions to me to keep Dirk talking.

"If you don't let Andrea come to me I'll torch your pathetic runt's van. I'll do it."

"That will be just one more charge you'll have to answer. The police are looking for you after you attacked April."

"That stupid bitch had it coming. She wouldn't tell me where Andrea was even when I hit her."

"She couldn't. If you had half a brain you would have known she didn't know where Andrea was. Why would she go to Andrea's house if she knew she was elsewhere? You beat a woman up for not telling you what she didn't know. You are just a cowardly bully."

"So will YOU tell me where Andrea is?"

"You know where she is. She's here. So will the police be before you can get at her."

"That means you must be in the Martello Tower. You wouldn't be so confident otherwise. OK. I'm going to burn the runt's van, against the wall. See how you like being burnt. There's no other way out. You have got one minute to persuade Andrea to come out." 

"For what? So you can kill her? You have an odd idea of what friends do."

"One minute."

Dirk rings off. Alan finishes speaking to the police.

"They'll be here in ten minutes." Alan says.

"He's going to burn your van under the door," I blurt out.

"Oh no!" squeals Andrea, "We'll burn."

"No we won't, Andrea," says Alan. "The door is iron sheathed with wood. The door might get hot but it can't be burnt. Nor can we. This tower is stone."

"Your van!" she wails.

"Fuck the van," snorts Alan. "It's insured. I can get another. Nothing is worth risking you."

"What do I tell Dirk when he rings back?" I ask.

"Tell him to get stuffed!" shouts Alan.

"I will."

"I'm going up on the roof. I'll try to see what he's up to. The camera obscura can't see him against the tower."

"Be careful!

"I will be, Marie. Look after Andrea."

Andrea crouches against the stairwell shivering as if she is frozen. I rush to her and hold her tight. Alan goes up the stairs and opens a trapdoor to the roof. He passes out of sight. He is back in a couple of seconds.

"Dirk's pushing the van. I can see his motorbike. I think we can stop him getting away. Bring Andrea up here, now."

Andrea is too shaken to move. I scoop her up in my arms and run up the stairs.

"Leave her there and give me a hand, Marie."

I prop Andrea against the housing of the trap door. Alan puts his finger to his lips and points to a small cannon. He brings his head to mine and whispers:

"If we drop that on his motorbike it will wreck it. He'll be on foot and won't get away."

"OK, Alan. Leave it to me. I can lift that. Take my phone. Talk to Dirk if he rings."

I peer over the parapet and locate the motorbike. It is on the side away from the door. I rush back to the cannon and stagger with it to the parapet. I rest it on the edge, judge the distance and push just as my phone rings. Alan holds it up but doesn't answer. I watch the cannon hit the bike and smash its frame. Petrol sprays out of the broken tank and ignites on the hot engine. Success. Alan answers the phone.

"Hello Dirk. I'm Alan. I'm sorry, Marie is busy."

"What was that noise? What has that bitch done?"

"Tut, tut, Dirk. Language."

"I'll give you language you useless squirt. What's she done?"

I've seen Dirk running round the tower holding the phone. He's seen the burning motorcycle. I duck below the level of the parapet.

"You cunt! I'll kill her and you. Your van's burning NOW!"

We can hear Dirk panting as he runs back to the van. 

"Dirk!" Alan shouts into the phone. "Dirk! Dirk!"

"What is it, you runt? You won't stop me now."

"Be careful, Dirk," Alan shouts. "There's a butane cylinder in my van. It'll go off like a bomb."

"I don't believe anything you say, runt! Here goes."

We hear the whoosh through the phone.

There is silence for a few seconds.

"It's caught well and burning nicely. The flames are up to your door."

"Get away, Dirk! It'll blow!"

"Sod you, runt."

Alan pulls Andrea through the trapdoor. I take her from him and we crouch against the outer wall well away from a window.

The tower doesn't move as a loud explosion hits it. Glass cracks in the window directly above the entrance but that is all.

"Stay with Andrea," Alan orders. "I'll see what's happened."

The phone is silent.

Alan returns.

"Andrea?"

She looks at him blankly. She is still terrified.

"Andrea. Your wish has come true. Dirk is dead."

She sobs against me. I wrap my arms around her and lift her to my lap. I rock her gently as the police sirens sound in the distance.

The police ring Alan's mobile. I vaguely hear him talking to them. We wait until a fire engine arrives and douses the wreckage of Alan's van. I have to unbar the door because Alan couldn't shift it. We climb down the ladder into the arms of the firemen.

Later I was told that the police were monitoring the calls between Dirk and my phone. They had heard everything he said. The inquest into his death was straightforward despite the lurid headlines. By that time we had resumed our lives and Dirk was stale news to us. April recovered after a couple of weeks in plaster.

Andrea's indiscretion with Alan was forgotten. It didn't matter at all compared to the other events.

All the copies of the script for the women's group pantomime were shredded. With Alan's help we performed Rumplestiltskin with him in the title role.

Alan and I are still exploring our love. I try not to be jealous when our friends pick him up for a kiss. We are all rebuilding our lives but some of us are still wary of men -- except Alan.

The End

Note: Written April 2004 and slightly revised May 2013.