BREAKDOWN!

Sylvain put the phone down gently and called Manuela, her trusted Spanish maid.

“Two guests for the weekend, arriving this afternoon.”

“Si señora.”

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“Run my bath, Manuela, with rose petals and perfume.”

“Si señora.” She flashed her Spanish eyes with what could be taken as annoyance?

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Relishing the gorgeous luxury of her marble clad bath chamber, Sylvain basked in steamy solitude before her guests arrived.

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Meanwhile on a quite country lane. Sindy’s car had coughed, spluttered and halted abruptly. She tried everything to get it started (except fill the empty petrol tank) She was miles away from the nearest phone box, Sindy was stranded in the deserted back lanes and getting a little bit scared.

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Frantically she waved at the next passing car, close to tears she sobbed,

“Please help me, I’ve broken down!”

fullsizeoutput_9e5bLuckily they were NOT serial killers (?) just a couple of chaps ready to help a distressed damsel.

“Hop in sweetie, we’ll take you to a phone.”

Flustered, Sindy was suddenly aware they were driving a very shiny, expensive two seater sports car so it was a very tight squeeze, Sindy immediatly felt safe with these handsome ( and rich) strangers.

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Sylvain took her aperitif in the west wing.

“Los guests have arrived señora.” Manuela was on front door duty as well as waitress, chambermaid and general dogsbody.

“Good, show them in.” She said impatiently, before she even had a chance to pick out her favourite chocolates.

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“Julian darling, it’s been so long, you are as handsome as ever.” As they kissed twice in the continental fashion, complementing each other in affectionate gestures.

“Sylvain, the one and only true beauty, we have so much to catch up on.”

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“Tristan, I’ve heard all about your adventures, such a hero, when is the book published?”

“Sylvain, I haven’t started writing it yet, ha ha, you must help me decide on the title.”

“Ah, I see you have brought your tennis racket, we shall play tomorrow…and this time I will beat you!”

“Not before I beat you first young lady!” As he tapped it against her posteria in a overly familiar fashion, amongst jovial laughter all round.

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Sindy coughed

“And who is this?”

“We found this poor thing all alone and stranded in the middle of nowhere, her cars broken down.”

“So….no one knows where you are, no one at all?” Sylvain raised an interested eyebrow as she appraised the pretty blonde girl.

“Er, no…er, please may I use your phone, I must get a machanic.”

The three pairs of eyes devoured her innocent freshness ( were evil intensions afoot?)

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Manuela dialed a local garage ( or thats what she said she was doing) and spoke so fast Sindy could hardly understand her, although she didn’t actually mention her car, something about ‘sacrificio’.

“Its a mini.” Sindy added, trying to be helpful, just as the maid slammed the telephone down abruptly.

“When are they coming?”

“Later, pronto, mañana…..” She shrugged, “They are veerry busy.”

Sindy was a little disappointed until she looked around at the luxury and refinement of her surroundings, she’d never been in such a beautiful house before.

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Sly winks and nods were exchanged, unbeknown to Sindy the handsome duo had unscrupulous plans for our sweet heroine.

*We all trust in strangers at times of emergency, hoping they are upstanding citizens

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Manuela led the expected guests with their luggage to their room, leaving the unexpected one sharing some soft centres with the hostess.

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“So do you live here all alone? ” Sindy scoffed between small talk.

“My husbands have all …gone.” Sylvain replied casually.

“Husbands? How many have you had?”

“Six, the first was a Swiss General but I was only 14, then the Russian Count, followed by the Maharajah – such a sweet man but his children …. were difficult.” Sylvain had a far away look as she recalled her past life.

“Oh!” Sindy was easily impressed and her curiosity was whetted, “Where…are they….did you divorce?

“All dead, I am a widow.” Said Sylvain abruptly as she elegantly rose and left the room.

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Immediatly Manuela entered with refreshments, Sindy didn’t usually drink wine in the afternoon but it would be rude to refuse, wouldn’t it?

She was getting quite comfortable, pampered in the lap of grandiose luxury.

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Smooth talking Tristan kept her company and shared some chocolates so she didn’t feel too guilty finishing off the whole box. He was so handsome, Sindy was seriously falling for his charming ways, thrilling in this real life adventure just like the Mills & Boon books she loved to read.

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“Tris, will you come and play with my balls?” called Julian, who seemed keen to rescue his companion from pretty Sindy’s charming and innocent clutches.

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“I’d love a game of boules with you Julian.” Tris jumped up to follow his games partner outside just as Manuela refilled Sindy’s glass, she had lost count how many times she’d emptied it, who was keeping score anyway?

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Dusting the surfaces in the garden room, all semed quiet in the house, Manuela had seen many strange sights and odd goings ons, usually with willing participants; this time was different and she was having second thoughts, a crisis of conscience perhaps?

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“Ah there you are, you’re not trying to escape again, tee tee.” The now tipsy Sindy pounced (or staggered) over to this handsome smiling young man, grabbing his arm to steady herself, and stroking him affectionately.

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“I want to thank you so much for rescuing me, you were like a knight in a shining sportscar, ” she gushed, “Maybe we could go out together and get to know each other better?” Sindy had got some dutch courage from somewhere and her bold advances took him by surprise.

“Oh sweetie, ” he gently untwined her pawing hands, “I’m taken and haven’t you got a boyfriend, Barry, you told me all about him earlier.”

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Sindy had forgotten that bit and stood crestfallen and a little bit fuzzy headed as he made his speedy escape back to the sunny lawn and Julian’s ball game.

What a fool she’d made of herself, her romance novels never ended like this, he should have held her in his strong arms and whisked her onto his yacht after a quick marriage at Gretner Green.

Drunken Sindy had tears whelling up in her eyes.

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Manuela tutted from the dark corner of the large room and muttered in her native tongue about the folly of youth.

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Handing her the ( slightly soiled) duster to dab her tears, “Telephone this Barry, he take you home, you shouldn’t be here after dark, it’s…..dangerous.”

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Half an hour later, the familiar rumble of a motorbike was heard , Sindy grabbed her coat and ran outside at full pelt.

“Oh Barry, take me home now…hurry”

“What’s up Sind? We were all worried when you didn’t show up, even your mum called me!”

“Oh Barry – you are my true hero.”

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Later by the pool.

“What happened to that girl?”

“She has gone señor.”

“Shame, we could of had some fun with that one.” They laughed while handling their fruity cocktails.

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Sunday night with a cold beer, some praline chocolate cake and all her house guests now departed…

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Sylvain puts her tired feet up and dreams of the crisp Alpine air and the holey cheese of her childhood home.

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And the moral of this story is – always tell your mummy where you are going.

©Juliette Dodd 2000

 

Camping Weekender

Sindy and Barry had borrowed a tent for their first weekend trip together, the only problem was Barry’s slightly odd brother Neville was coming too, much to Sindys annoyance.

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The journey through the countryside to the campsite was interrupted by the strained silence of Neville squeezed uncomfortably into the tiny backseat of Sindy’s little car.

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“Are we nearly there yet?” Barry was getting impatient and a little bit excited.

“Soon, I’m sure this is the lane.” Sindy had only vaguely looked at the route but left the map at home.

It was getting quite warm and no one had brought a hat

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“This is it, Snake Hole Farm and this is the campsite.” Announced Sindy triumphantly, although it was in fact a field with a crudely painted tent sign nailed to the gate.

Neville grunted, eager to get out and stretch his cramped legs, he was a man of few words.

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They seemed to be the only campers this weekend, Sindy wasn’t really sure what to expect as it was her very first time, luckily the lads had their military training and were experts in all survival techniques.

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Being the only female Sindy immediatly assumed dominance and started a tirade of orders and tasks for the lads

“We shall pitch up here, no not there, I want don’t want to see those horrid cows in the next field, nasty smelly things.”

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As they dutifully unpacked the trailer, Sindy got her priorities in order, furniture, food and refreshments.

“Hurry up.” She commanded,  wanting to get settled so her holiday could properly begin.

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“Barry, do be careful with the hamper.”

“Neville…put it on the table, here.”

“Now get the tent up just there.” She pointed impatiently before the boys could catch their breath.

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The sun was rising higher and there seemed to be an awful lot of assorted poles in the trailer

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“Have you got the instructions Sindy?”

“Oh is that what it was? I think I left it at home.”

“Hmmm.” Barry and Neville exchanged a look as they gazed at the folded heavy canvas tent. A serious challenge, both intellectual and physical was about to be undertaken.

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“Tea’s ready.” Although she had just poured it out of the flask, the lads were grateful for the break but without the instructions they were really struggling.

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Sindy whispered close to Barry’s ear,

“I don’t want your brother in the tent with us, tell him he can sleep in the car.”

“But Sindy, there’s no room in…..” She glared at him with her big blue eyes.

“Yes dear.” he dutifully replied, anything to keep the peace.

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An hour or so later and the boys were still struggling with the ratio of poles to canvas, Sindy heard lots of new words that they’d picked up in the army, she quite liked the sound of ‘Twatting bollox’ but had no idea what it meant.

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She was so glad she could help by supervising their efforts, a bit like a site foreman (although she had no idea how to put up a tent) She thought it would be alot easier if it could magically pop up, I don’t know, does that sounds a bit far fetched?

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Eventually they asked her to help by holding up the very important key pole, she wasn’t sure it was actually doing anything but loved being useful, it gave her a superior sense of purpose (and kept her quite for a short while)

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As the sweat dripped off their frazzled brows, the intrepid brothers yearned of a long cool pint in a country pub.

“Any beers in the hamper Sind?” Barry asked hopefully.

“No, I forgot them, we have squash?”

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Lunch was a much appreciated luke warm yet dry buffet washed down with weak, tepid slightly stewed tea from the other flask.

Neville spent a good while sharpening his rather large (and most probably illegal) knife,  to the disapproving glances of sweet Sindy.

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She caught Barry’s eye and motioned towards Neville with exaggerated eye movements, Barry looked at her questioningly so she had mouth ‘Tell him’. Poor Barry, this was an uncomfortable situation as now, after many hours, the tent stood taut and firm; he couldn’t have done it alone, although the instructions would have really helped.

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“Er, Nev…” He began.

“This tent is as sound as a house Baz, we’ll be safe and cosy tonight.”

Barry handed Nev his kit and sleeping bag but couldn’t bring himself to banish his big brother from the tent. ‘Sindy will be so mad’ he though.

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“Why have you got that spade?” She asked quizzically.

“Digging the latrine” Nev replied matter-of-factly.

“Oh!” Sindy hadn’t really thought about that side of their trip and she began to worry, she’d expected a toilet block and showers at this campsite, now she realised why it was so cheap.

Neville put up a wind break behind the trailer and began digging a hole.

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While Nev was out of the way she asked,”Did you tell him Barry?”

“Err, not yet Sindy.”

“Well don’t leave it too long.” Barry thought she was being a bit cruel but all wanted was a quiet life.

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Sindy couldn’t wait any longer and was the first to relieve herself behind the windbreak. She loudly whispered,

“Barry, can you throw the toilet roll over here, I forgot it.” Not wanting to draw too much attention to her bodily functions, Sindy was always ladylike.

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The afternoon whiled away quietly with everyone enjoying the sun and peace of the countryside, Barry even got a chance to read his big book, Nev’s knife was now razor sharp and Sindy sizzled some sausages for their dinner.

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Unbeknown to the relaxed trio an unwelcome visitor slithered silently into the cool shade of the tent.

Oh dear!

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At long last the meal was ready with beautifully fried sausages, Neville even offered to cut the burnt edges off but Sindy got a bit territorial and shooed him away indignantly.

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As Sindy was changing out of her grease spattered polyester slacks disrceetly in the tent, all of a sudden a movement made her shriek a blood curdling terrified scream.

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The lads came running to her aide, their highly tuned fighting instincts took over, in an instant Nev had siezed the snake away from the still shrieking Sindy.

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“It’s alright, calm down.”

“KILL IT, KILL IT!” She shouted, trembling in panic.

“It’s only a harmless grass snake, you know there aren’t any dangerous ones in England?”

“It’s …horrid, it was going to bite me…” Sindy was nearly in tears.

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Neville let it go gently to slither off into the safety of the long grass.

“Its not like the monster pythons in Burma…” Nev shuddered at the memory then went quiet again, he never really spoke of his time travelling and Barry never asked.

Barry tried to calm his almost hysterical girlfriend by taking her for a walk around the field, she clung to him trembling and thought he was ever so brave and gallant.

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Left alone in the quiet of the warm summer evening Nev pondered the days events while smoking one of his special home made cigarettes.

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Now fully recovered and looking forward to a nice snuggle with her handsome boyfriend, Sindy made a pre bedtime trip to the wind break.

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“Here’s the spade if you’re taking a dump” Nev made her jump as he lurked outside the tent.

Poor Sindy was rather flustered and refused the shovel distastefully.

How could she make him sleep in the back of the mini now after he’d saved her from the evil snake?

She couldn’t…. but she made them check every inch of the tent before getting in her sleeping bag.

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“Night night Barry.”

“Night night Sindy.” Both the brothers replied in unison.

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The next morning started alot earlier than Sindy was used to, with the dawn chorus at 4 o’clock and the cows mooing incessantly in the next field. Not that she slept much hearing the unfamiliar rustling of ‘things’ close by, she was really quite exhausted.

What had taken the boys hours to erect only took minutes to pack away.

“We’ll know for next time though.” Barry was pleased to say.

Will there be a next time?

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Oh dear, the cars wheels had sunk firmly in the earth so the two strong men heaved and pushed with all their might.

“Neural, is it in neural?”

“Handbreak Sindy, take the handbreak off!”

“No need to shout.” She mumbled through gritted teeth, releasing the handbreak quietly.

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Finally after a concerted effort they managed to get the mini out, which should have been an easier job than it was.

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Homeward bound, Sindy couldn’t wait to enjoy the privacy of her own bathroom, next time she’ll find a proper campsite with showers…and toilets

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©Juliette Dodd 2020

 

 

Talent Show – Variety

A week before the talent contest, Barry dropped round at Sindys house casually handing her a bag full of his dirty laundry.

“Just a few more bits Sind darlin’, it’s only ’til I get one of my own, did you wash my lucky pants by any chance?”

IMG_6049Sindy had been rushed off her feet, ironing his socks and folding his going out shirt when she had discovered some incriminating evidence that he may have been up to his old tricks and decided to confront him.

“Barry, have you been ….gambling again?”

He was deep in her fridge with his mouth full of her secret stash of chocolate bars.

“What?” He answered in a confused way, then saw the playing card she was holding up.

“No, of course not, Sindy believe me, I don’t do that no more.”

She studied his simple face for the tell tale signs of deceit but he held her gaze steadily while munching away and her suspicions were quelled.

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“Oh Barry, don’t you ever eat at home?” She lovingly filled the bag with his freshly pressed clothes as he rummaged in her cupboards for the hidden crisp stash. Sindy had the best snacks and Barry was a very lucky man.

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Fast forward to the night of The Ritzys Talent contest. The enigmatic owner and tonights compare Darius, introduced the next contestant as ‘Magic Barry – The man of Mystery.’

The ladies in the audience cooed their appreciation at this fine figure of a virile young man, Barry lapped it up, basking in the adoration with a half hidden smug smile.

He had been secretly practicing for ages and now it was the big night.

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From out of nowhere a magic wand suddenly appeared in his hand as Barry began his performance using exaggerated gestures, all the while keeping a totally straight face.

A magic box was placed on the green baise table as the wand tapped it three times while he incanted the magic word ‘ALACAZAM’ .

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The shocked gasps rippled across the awe inspired auditorium as he slowly opened the magic box revealing……

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BARBIE!

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Barry’s first magic trick was incredible and the crowd went wild, especially after he carefully closed the box and deftly tossed it around on all its corners, there were absolutely no holes or gaps (maybe mirrors… but nothing was ever proved)

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Barry’s next trick involved three cups and a real egg, this got even more gasps from the amazed audience as the egg disappeared from the table.

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Only to reappear under his magicians Fez!

WOW! What a talent, how did he do that?

Although the cheap seats at the back couldn’t really see very much, even so they clapped loudly with the rest.

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Just to show off Barry miraculously conjured not just one egg cup, but three.

Goodness me, this man had talent!

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Barrys final trick was a classic slight of hand card illusion, asking a random lady from the audience to name a card, he magically produced this exact one ( the Queen of Hearts) from the pack. The back row were seriously unimpressed which, in hindsight, was not his best choice of tricks, it always went down well in the pub but sadly not in a theatre of this magnitude.

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Barry the ‘Man of Mystery’ was unceromniously ushered off the stage as the set needed to be changed while the interval rush for the bar kicked off. He didn’t even get his full applause but Darius reaped the profits.

Suitably refreshed for the second half, the curtains opened and welcomed to the stage the ‘Many Faces of Max’ – Impressionist extraordinaire.

Laughter peeled loudly as he stumbled and bumbled around as Benny Hill.

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His Tommy Cooper was hilarious, especially as Max used some of the same tricks as Barry but they all went terribly wrong to the great amusement of the now tipsy audience.

Barry was the only one not laughing.

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Max even got an encore for his inspired performance as the popular and precocious child star Bonny Langford, singing her heart out very loudly

“I’m just a girl who can’t say no…..”

They were rolling around the aisles in merriment and one old lady even had an unfortunate accident because she’d drunk too much in the interval.

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Darius introduced the hot new singing sensation KSSK ( vaguely pronounced Kissed) with their amazing vocal version emulating the popular Swedish group ABBA.

They had a phenominal stage routine with sycronised arm waving and everything.

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Their rendition of SOS was …almost …in tune.

When Sindy hit the high notes, the rest gave her some harmony almost loud enough to drown out the wavering finish.

Nonetheless, the girls flounced around the stage as if they were superstars and everyone could see how much they were all enjoying the limelight.

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They were just going into their second song ‘Waterloo’ when, for some unknown reason the microphones stopped working.

Darius ushered the confused performers off to stage right with a fixed grimace of a smile on his weary face.

It had been a long night.

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The final act for this frenzied and strangly laughing crowd was a total surprise to Old Mrs Sindy, who was sitting in the second row next to the lady who had wet herself earlier. She’d only come to support her darling daughter but now was amazed to see on stage, none other than her new gentleman friend, Sir Charles!

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“Hello Sargent Life Guard, have you seen Her Majesty the Queen recently?” asked Sir Charles.

“Yes, I have”

“And did she offer you a beverage?”

“Yes she did.”

“What was that drink?”

“A gottle of gear.”

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“Ho Ho, my wife has just come back from a holiday in the Caribbean?”

“Jamaica?”

“No, Trinidad actually.”

“I say, I say, I say, did you know that my dog has no nose?”

“No nose? How does he smell?”

“Awful”

And it truly was an awful performance, everyone could see his mouth move, even so Sir Charles probably received the loudest and longest amount of applause of the whole evening.

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Now we have all witnessed the variety of entertainers, who would you pick to win the contest?

 

©Juliette Dodd 2020

Talent Show – Ballerina

The Talent show compare and The Ritzy’s enigmatic owner, Darius accompanied by his glamourous assistant Jeannie, loudly introduced the next contestant to the already excited crowd. She was a picture in white satin and net tutu with the mearest glint of regal gold.

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The beautiful ballerina wafted around the stage as light as a butterfly and as elegant as a swan ( not the other way round) while the familiar music of Tchaikovsky enraptured the audience to some high brow entertainment ( for a change)

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There was a hush as they watched her graceful movements, from en point to pirouette as she teeterd across the stage while miming exaggerated dying swan movements.

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As arranged earlier ‘The Magnificent Burtini’ ( our hero Burt, in case you didn’t know) was waiting in the wings to support the ballerina for her final pas de deux – what a lovely couple they made!

As the audience was soothed with this classical performance, Burt withdrew and the music suddenly changed to something that can only be described as bawdy.

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In a blink of the eye this elegant creature whipped out an enormous sword and without further adieu began to swallow it right in front of the gobsmacked theatre!

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Slowly the whole blade disappeared down her gullet, the amazed crowd watched in shocked silence, as she carried on her ballet dancing in small careful tippy toe steps.

No one had EVER seen such an act before (or since, although it’s now been banned in every European country and most of the Commonwealth)

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Of course the applause matched this unique act and the wowed room were cheering and clapping with all their might; after a little curtsy the pretty Ballerina asked for a volunteer. Burt was determined not to let her take all the limelight away so fast and he was beside her as quick as a blink.

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Before he really knew what was happening he was expertly strapped to a huge spinning target, this was a bit of a shock to him but not as much as her next trick.

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Oh dear, poor Burt, he tried to keep his cool as every eye in the packed theatre was on him and their blood lust was tangible.

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The target started to spin as the ballerina pirouetted around and around on stage, she suddenly stopped and expertly threw the razor sharp sword, with a loud thud it was embedded deep in the painted wood  – right between Burt’s exposed thighs!

If he wasn’t such a brave man, he would have shrieked in terror, luckily his years of grueling service in the Navy had taught him how to remain calm in a crisis.

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The crowd went wild and the hideous sound of primal screams could be heard from the older ladies at the front row.

Burt was still spinning and could hardly see what happened next but judging by the gasps, something even more dangerous was about to happen.

She had put on a blindfold!

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‘NO, please no!’ Burt silently shouted in his head as his face turned gravely pale and every muscle in his body tensed up.

She elegantly danced around and around precariously towards the edge of the stage as the audience fell silent, the eerie quiet was suddently broken by her next sword throw – THWACK!

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Burt could swear he felt the cold blade graze his shoulder as she threw more and more swords at the target, he closed his eyes and prayed this hell would end soon.

Now all her weapons had been deployed and the routine was over, at last.

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Almost a broken shell of a man he still was able to hold his head up high as she lapped up the enormous and raptuous applause, although his legs were shaking uncontrollably.

“I’m glad it worked this time.” she whispered.

It was only then that Burt noticed the dark red stains splattered around the spinning target.

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The next contestant is waiting nervously in the wings for their own story to begin.

©Juliette Dodd 2020

 

Local Talent

Karen welcomed Old Mrs Sindy who was getting her notoriously frizzy and course hair done at Ken’s Unisex Salon, her regular appointment had been moved as there was an unexpected rush on this week.

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As usual the place was a hive of activity, buzzing with the sound of whisperd gossip, clippers and heady waffs of hair lacquer. Old Mrs Sindy watched as a confused young man tried to get the assistants attention.

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Karen just walked right past him several times while he tried in vain to get her to notice him.

“Er excuse me Miss”

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He looked very awkward until the suave salon owner Ken came to his rescue

“Have you got an appointment, love?”

“Yes, I’ve been here for my 3.30 trim” Both the young man and Ken looked at the clock, it was quarter to 4.

Karen whispered loudly, “I swear I didn’t see him.”

“Put your glasses on, you silly moo.” Ken chastised his assistant jokingly, “He’s wearing the same colour blue as the walls!”

IMG_5172As Ken ushered the confused young man to a vacant barbers chair, in walked the very smart and dashing Sir Charles; he rapidly scanned the waiting area and spied Old Mrs Sindy. ‘Perfect’ he thought to himself as he politly nodded across to her, ‘Splendid.’

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“Beautiful morning Madam, your hair looks perfection, if I may say so?”

“Ho ho, I haven’t had it done yet, young man!” she chuckled in delight, it had been many a year since she’d had a complement from the rougher sex!

“Ah, I will be interested to see how young Kenneth can surpass your natural beauty.” Sir Charles was incorrigable in his persuit of new prey.

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Old Mrs Sindy giggled and blushed.

“I haven’t seen you here before?”

“I’m new to town, recently moved on…I mean in,  not far from here but its only temporary until I can get settled properly.” Sir Charles looked wistfully off into middle distance, as if transpoted on a distant memory.

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Old Mrs Sindy studied this dapper military chap, his slightly dull brass buttons and battered cap, there were frays on his cuffs and his boots had seen better days; apart from that he was a fine looking man of indeterminate age.

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At that moment Ken bustled through with a final spray of lacquer on his latest hair masterpiece.

“And that my dear is how I create perfection….” He was in a very jolly mood today, although he generally was a happy fellow, there seemed to be a special skip and bounce in his step.

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“You, my dear are ready for the ball,” He exclaimed loudly,

“Are you entering the contest too, Ken?”

“I may be ” He tittered and winked and gave yet another final spray.

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“It’s all just too exciting!” Sindy entered to collect her friend for some more rehearsal practice.

Sir charles couldn’t help but ask what all the fuss was about and the girls were more than happy to tell him

“A Talent Contest at the Ritzy, there will be celebrity judges and maybe a TV show…” Mindy explained.

“Or record contract..” Sindy butted in, hardly containing her obvious enthusiasm.

“…and huge cash prizes.” Mindy finished.

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This was exactly what Sir Charles needed and his brain whirred into overdrive.

In the meantime he continued his persuit of the comely Old Mrs Sindy, even if he had to shout over the dryers.

By the end of his salon visit he had successfully arranged a date to take her out to the new Tiki themed cocktail bar next to the Wimpy on the High Street.

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As ususal it was adorned with the beautiful people being all elegant and fashionable, Ken  regularly popped in and out for a top up and to chat with his new friend the barman.

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“Oh isn’t it….colourful? I’ve always wanted to come in but not on my own.” Old Mrs Sindy was so glad Sir Charles had asked her.

“What cocktail would you like, my dear?”

“Oooh they all sound….so exotic, I really don’t know, I usually have a port and lemon but what do you recommend?”

“A Piña Colada…that springs to mind, dear lady….for some reason.”

“Oh go on then, you Devil!’ Old Mrs Sindy was ecstatically happy, for a change.

Jolly good.

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Meanwhile Burt was busy in the garden when Barry visited on his way to the match.

“Have you had one of these? Sindy is making me hand them out and I’ve only got three left.”

Burt read the flyer as Barry told him how impossible Sindy has been recently,

“She can’t speak of anything else but at least she’s let me go to the footie while she’s rehearsing.”

“Good for you Barry.”

“Well, are you entering then?”

“Hmmm.” Burt murmered thoughtfully.

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Later that afternoon, Burt’s mind wondered to his long distant dream of show business and the bright lights, he could almost hear the loud roar of applause and something deep inside him stirred into life.

YES he will be entering!

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So the night of the contest had arrived and there was a huge crowd queuing for tickets outside the Ritzy, all the way up the street and almost to the station. The contestants had been practising all afternoon, getting their props and stage routines perfected; everyone wanted to win, it was the biggest thing to happen in this sleepy town since the Tiki bar opened next to the Wimpy.

Darius, the enigmatic owner and proprietor of The Ritzy was to be compare for the night but the rumoured celebrity judges were still a mystery, you would not believe the wild guesses flying around, some were just plain obsurd!

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“Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome, please take your seats Meine Damen und Herren, Mesdames et Messieurs, Ladies and Gentlemen!’ It was all very cosmopolitan and the audience loved it.

“Without further ado, our first contestant for tonights extravaganza is …..(drum roll)…. The Magnificent Burtini.”

The crowed were so excited they clapped with all their might as the curtain opened to a darkened stage, the spotlights lit up and there, standing on his podium was a veritable beast of a man.

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Oh how the ladies swooned at the sight of his rippling muscles, the oiled thighs and sheer animal magnetism (I’m sure one even fainted!)

With loud grunts of pure energy Burt ( for it was none other than our old friend just using his stage name) managed to lift the enormously heavy barbell weights high into the air.

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Of course the whole auditorium cheered encouragingly at his amazing feats of strength, Burt was almost tossing it into the air with apparent ease, posing as each wave of applause reached a crescendo – what a man!

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At this point I shall break off and compose myself for the thrilling second half of this tall tale on a small scale.

You may wipe your brow too.

….to be continued shortly.

 

 

 

©Juliette Dodd 2020

Love is…

Valentines day can bring out the hopeless romantic or maybe just the hopeless at romance.

Sindy had been hinting wildy for weeks so there really was no excuse for her handsome boyfriend Barry to forget.

She had washed her hair and spent an awfully long time choosing a pretty dress and matching shoes to wear.

Their Valentines gifts were exchanged along with some traditional red roses he’d bought at the garage on the way over.

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Sindy was so excited to see the proof of his (not often declared ) love for her as she ripped the gift box open avidly.

“What’s this?” she gasped, hardly disguising the shock and disappointment in her voice.

“It’s what you wanted…isn’t it?” Barry awkwardly unwrapped her overly soft feeling gift to him, it certainly was not the new camera he was hoping for then?

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“But it’s a …bus?” she held it up quizzically.

“You said you wanted a double red thing, so I got you a really cool model London bus, don’t you like it?”

Oh dear, poor Sindy, her heavy hints had gone well above his manly head.

“Pants!” Barry held up his present, he was equally underwhelmed.

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“Go and try them on Barry.” She had a naughty glint in her eye.

“What now? Where’s you mum?”

“She’s on a date with Sir Charles, she won’t be back till after tea.”

“Oh Ok then” He disappeared to the bathroom, returning swiftly wearing his new gift.

“Oh Barry…” Sindy breathed heavily,

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“Give us a twirl.” Sindy was obviously impressed,

“They do fit you very well.”

Her hungry eyes seemed transfixed on his new Y fronts.

“I thought you’d buy me some sexy red underwear, then I could have modelled it for you too.”

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Then it clicked, that was why she’d been leaving notes around with ’34a’ written on…he assumed it was her favourite bus numbers… BARRY you utter plonker!

All he could do was use his vivid imagination of what could have been…

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Which he did often…

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…and for a very long time afterwards.

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Seventies style.

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©Juliette Dodd 2020

Ken’s Unisex Salon

It was a very busy Saturday morning at Ken’s newly opened Unisex salon, the very first of its kind in town and ever so trendy and fashionable.

Customers lined up waiting for Ken’s magic touch, he was rushed off his feet and that was just the way he liked it.

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Old Mrs Priscilla was a familiar client and had been getting her ( difficult and challenging) hair set as regular as clockwork, 3 times a week since time immemorial; being one of Alphonso’s legacies, although Ken would have preferred all his clients to be the young and beautiful, such s life!

“Did you get my favourite setting lotion in, Ken dear?”

“Yes Mrs Priscilla, they still had some old stock at the suppliers, it’s almost a museum piece! I ordered the whole lot especially for you.”

“Good, I can’t be doing with all this new stuff, it brings up my hives.”

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“What’s the latest on Number 69? I heard they had another weekend party…..with foreign gentlemen!” Mrs Priscilla didn’t hesitate to make wild assumptions, maybe she was a just little bit jealous?

“Oh my, I really don’t know, you’ll have to ask Karen when she’s finished with her customer.” Ken refused to join in with this topic, he’d been at that party too…and yes, all sorts of guests attending, foreign and otherwise!

Karen waved from above the dryer.

“I won’t keep you too long dear, just finishing a perm.” Ken handed her another magazine and promised a cup of coffee.

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The doorway darkened as a tall dashing gentleman in a striking red uniform marched into the Salon.

Ken greeted this new comer with a warm smile, people glanced around and some audible noises of appreciation were heard, everyone loves a uniform, especially a red one with lots of shiny brass buttons.

“Sir Charles Emery VC, pleased to meet you young man.” A very formal and loud introduction from this distinguished military Gent.

Ken was a little bit flustered, he liked a man in uniform too,

“Hi I’m Ken, how can I help you today Sir Charles?”

“I need a wash and trim if you please.”

“Of course, if you don’t mind waiting a short while, I’ll get Karen to give you a good going over.” Ken saw the amount of Brylcreem on his bonce and passed that sticky job swiftly on to his eager young assistant.

Karen was a very good scrubber and always enjoyed the hands-on approach.

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Settled into a waiting chair next to Mrs Priscilla, Sir Charles immediately started up a conversation.

“Good morning Ma’am, beautiful weather for this time of year, don’t ya think?”

She tittered like a schoolgirl, he really did remind her of her long departed Daddy.

“Yes the snow seems to have missed us this year, I love a mild winter, don’t you?” Starting off on safe ground, she was dying to know who this handsome and very smart stranger was.

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“Yes indeed, but when I was in active service in the Argentines, we would have given our eye teeth for snow, damnable heat, it even made the brass sweat.”

“Oh that sounds so exotic, where else have you been?” and Old Mrs Sindy was immediately draw into deep discussions of foreign climates and their downside compared to good old Blighty.

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“And you dear lady, is there a Mr Priscilla?”

“No, he’s been gone these past ten years, the swinging sixties affected his mind.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, you must be terribly lonely?”

“Well yes, but he still sends me an occasional postcard from Naples, apparently he’s opened a home for orphaned teenage boys…a heart of gold really.”

The stories one hears in a Hairdressing Salon would make your toes curl, all of life’s rich pageant is discussed, even the most taboo subjects, in here there were no holes barred.

Sir Charles was ever thankful for Unisex Salons, the whole of womankind eager to engage in the most intimate of conversations, he was in his element.

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As the old lady was ushered off for her finishing procedure the Salon door swung open and a tall mysterious figure entered.

Ken was the most attentive and welcoming host and rushed to greet this latest customers, her graceful entrance oozed refinement and breeding, Sir Charles sat to attention with keen interest.

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Hmm, though Sir Charles, she is just the sort of lady he was looking for, as he twirled his moustache in a nonchalant manner; hoping she would be seated in the now empty waiting chair next to him.

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That was not to be, Ken had been expecting the arrival of his most honoured client, he swiftly took her coat and directed her to his special chair to begin his skilful hair magic.

He knew Madame Sylvain must never be kept waiting like a common peasant.

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“Won’t be keeping you long now Sir, Saturday is our busiest time and everyone wants their hair done for the weekend, have a magazine.” She kindly offered the latest edition of Cosmopolitan. Poor Sir Charles almost got the shock of his life glancing through the glossy pages to the features, so engrossed he hardly heard his name being called.

‘Well I never’ he thought as he tore himself away from a very detailed diagram of an orgasm.

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“Oh, there is a lot of this sticky stuff to wash out Sir, I’ll have to do a third shampoo…is the water too hot?”

“Mind my ears please my dear, they are beginning to burn.”

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Sir Charles was lucky to be sitting right next to the target of his interest, although he couldn’t hear any of the conversations over the whooshing water in his ears.

“I think its all out now Sir, did say you wanted a trim?” whittered Karen.

“Yes, regulation please.” Karen had no idea what that meant so she guessed it was a short  back and sides.

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“Perfection!” Ken stood back to admire his complicated up-do, he loved dressing Madame Sylvain’s perfect golden locks,  it was so satisfying working with very long hair for a change.

“Gut, you have pleazed me Ken, I am happy viv your vurk.”

Ken knew she was a very generous tipper and he always gave her his special customer service.

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“Do another wash there, Karen,” he called over, “And use the industrial cleaner from the back room.”

Sir Charles had been straining to hear the conversation and gathered she was a Hun, or so it seemed, he made a note to return next Saturday morning or even better, to glance over the appointment book and get her name and address.

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Madame Sylvain was in a hurry, there was still a lot of preparation to do before the VIP guests arrived this evening, at least she was at her most presentable, entertaining Royalty was her speciality.

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Sir Charles stared longingly after the beautiful continental lady as his head got severely scrubbed for the fifth time, damned that Brycreem, he cursed to himself, else he could have been accompanying her out of the salon.

 

Will Sir Charles ever meet Madame Sylvain?

Does old Mrs Sindy have a new crush?

And what about the Greek room?

 

©Juliette Dodd 2020

 

HOUSEMATES

* Authors note – adult themes explored, do not read if you are easily offended – if you are offended then get a bloody grip, they are just toys! *

~*~                                            ~*~                                            ~*~

Madam Sylvain, Head of House was overseer of all the goings on, including the visitors and Housemates.

Firm but fair was her motto although her cold demeanour was often taken for disinterest, she had her own reasons for holding up a barrier to others.

Presiding from the inner sanctum of her stately Office, she kept the others under check and was held in the highest esteem, almost reverence by the ladies, most of whom where from the Old country, like herself.

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His regular visits were the highlight of Max’s mundane life, this was the only time he could truly be himself, indulging all his whims and fancies without judgement or criticism, exploring his feminine side was his greatest pleasure.

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Mistress Felina knew his needs perfectly and purred and pandered to his inner softie.

It was hard being such a masculine hunk of muscle having to keep up the appearance of a raging testosterone oozing, pumped up heart throb with rippling biceps and really cool hair.

All he really wanted was to be a girl wearing pretty lacy pink dresses and picking flowers, skipping and playing hide and seek.

Mistress Felina supplied a safe place to act out his fantasies, she knew what all little girls loved best, she was the best Nanny.

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After shaving his legs and chest Max anointed his taut body with rose scented lotion relishing the softness of his bronzed limbs, it was his happy time and no one could spoil it for him while he was safe in the House.

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Mistress Felina got on with the usual chores and did the laundry run after every visiter, lotions, creams and perfumes made a lot of mess and clean linen was part of the whole experience.

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In the kitchen, which was only for the residence, all the Housemates relaxed and refreshed themselves between visitors, a heated discussion was under way.

“Ze washing machine is broken, again, we need new one.”

“Not again, iz too bad, you load it too full Felina.”

“Do not blame me Selina, you don’t check ze pockets, too many rubber bands and coins, you broke it!”

And so it went on, each blaming the other for breaking the washing machine, the room was filled with sour faced ladies while the dirty laundry piled higher and higher.

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Breaking their blaming stalemate, Petra entered the kitchen,

“Madame has called a meeting, everyone must come to the Office, NOW!”

An almost audible intake of breath was heard as they immediately sat to attention and gathered themselves in a rather worried way.

“But Sonia has a visitor.”

“Go get her, Madam summoned us all, come now it is urgent.”

Squabble forgotten, one stormed off to fetch their comrade while the others made themselves presentable, they all knew how much Madame abided scruffiness and mess.

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Tapping her fingers impatiently on the Office desk, she redialed again, still no answer.

“Scheisse!” She muttered, obviously annoyed she slammed the phone down.

It wasn’t often Madam Sylvain lost her temper so this must have been something very important.

Composing herself she waited for the Housemates to arrive.

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“Madame, zis ez a serious problem, ze washing machine, it ez broken.” Felina knew someone must tell Madam and she wanted to be the first.

“Och nein!” Madame Sylvain was now visibly irked.

“That new man, get him to fix it, use you head Felina, don’t trouble me with trifles.”

“Ja Madame.”

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It wasn’t long before the room was filled with beautiful women all standing to attention around the desk.

“Gut, I have called you here, we have a very important visitor arriving soon, everything must be perfect, you will not let me down.”

“No Madam.” They answered in unison.

“And he will have an entourage, a whole weekend and I want everything running smoothly, do you all understand.”

“Yes Madame.”

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“Madame, which room will they be using?”

“All of them.” They all gasped together.

“Even the Greek room?” Selina asked.

“Especially the Greek room, this is a very special event and I demand perfection and I expect complete satisfaction for the whole party. You are all the creme de la creme, the most gifted in your field, we are the best House in the whole of Europe, lets make it the best in the World!”

“Yes Madam.”

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“But with dirty washing …” Muttered Selina smiling.

“This is NOT funny, I have no time for your jokes, get it sorted immediately.” Her reaction took everyone by surprise and they stepped back terrified as Madame Sylvain stood up, almost hissing her annoyance.

“We will get it all ready now Madame.”

“All will be done as you wish Madame.”

“But what about the Pink Boudoir?”

“All rooms will be in use, it’s a specific request, even the Nursery. Now go, leave me I have important phone call to make to Zurich.”

The ladies filed out of the Office and rushed to discuss the meeting candidly together in the Kitchen, except Sonia who rushed to release her visitor before another death occured.

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The next day Neville was summoned, he could only come after work and had great difficulty hiding his building excitement at the prospect.

Even Barry had noticed him clock watching and pacing around eagerly all day.

“What’s up with you Nev, you got a hot date or something?” Barry quizzed.

“NO, erm… seeing a bloke about a new bike down the pub.”

“Can I come, I fancy a pint away from Sindy, a lads night eh?”

“No, it’s….he’s a loner, doesn’t like strangers.” Nev lied.

“Sounds bloody dodgy to me, be careful Bruv.” Little did he know the secret life his older brother was hiding.

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Arriving as soon as he could, after showering and changing his pants (being ever hopeful – he was once a boy scout ) Neville was ushered into a small utility room near the back door of the House.

“Mend this, eet is broken.” Mistress Petra was as abrupt and direct as always, he quite liked that she was so dominant and he really wanted to please her.

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Luckily Nev had worked with an electrician as one of his many jobs after leaving the army, although he was quite talented in that field but could never settle in any place long enough to start a business.

Left alone to solve the problem, the house now seemed unnervingly quiet.

The Laundry room was filled with his favourite things – ladies frilly undergarments, although some of the items were a rather strange design and other of an unusually large size. Nev was in his element, the inner sanctum of this House of women with all their private things. He was deliriously happy.

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Meanwhile Max had escaped the Pink room and rushed down the corridor to dodge his pursuer, giggling loudly at the thrill of this simple innocent game, he too was deliriously happy.

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The hectic stomping and giggling outside disturbed Nev whose curiosity had got the better of him, peeking out of the laundry room door he saw a disappearing figure in a flowery dress and oddly familiar blonde hair.

 

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Intrigued he watched as they entered another door which immediately slammed shut accompanied by loud squeals and more giggles.

Nev dared not follow, he was both curious and a little bit scared to uncover the secrets of the House and to be caught in the act of prying would have meant immediate expulsion.

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“The brushes have worn out!” He muttered to himself after delving deeply inside the inner workings of the kaput washing machine.

‘That’s easily fixed.”

Nev masterfully returned all the components back to their rightful place and turned the dial, smiling smugly at the familiar noise as it begun filling with water, humming back to life as he stood back to survey his handiwork.

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Outside the door Petra’s voice echoed loudly,

“Found you!”

“You can’t catch me,” a high pitched squeaky voice replied.

“Enough, come back here, Maxine.”

“No, you catch me if you can, you’re It, you’re It.”

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The noise made Nev look out again, this time he spied Petra marching the blonde haired figure up the hallway…but it was a man…in a dress.

Neville was both shocked and relieved.

He wasn’t alone.

There were others like him, the same as him, at last he felt like he had almost found his tribe.

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Clearing up the laundry room, Nev couldn’t quite work out what this strange thing was, it looked exactly like a baby’s romper suit but massive, how very peculiar he thought and couldn’t imagine any of the glamorous ladies wearing such a thing.

What do you think it is?

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What else will he see in the House?

Who is the secret VIP guest?

And what goes on in the Greek room?

 

©Juliette Dodd 2020

In the HOUSE

* Authors warning – some adult themes explored but all in the best possible taste! *

                                ~*~              ~*~           ~*~             ~*~              ~*~

Neville returned to the House the following Monday evening, the front door was opened by Mistress Petra, who tutted and told him to use the tradesmen entrance round the back in the future.

Glancing furtively around he noticed Mistress Felina striding off down the inner depths of the house, she was totally uninterested at his arrival.

In the corridor they met another tall dark haired woman wearing a Japanese kimono,

“Who eez this?” she demanded in a heavy European accent, barely glancing at him she spoke only to Petra.

“Ez the new handyman, remember the last one left, he was no good, he cried too easily.”

“Oh ja.”

This made Nev feel a bit awkward, he knew the House was a strange place but it was odder than he’d remembered from the previous week.

“Man, I have work for you, send him to me soon Petra, first I must prepare the boudoir.”

With that she turned and disappeared up the main corridor, leaving a heavy waft of intoxicating perfume as a scent trail.

Nev was now buzzing with excitement and anticipation, so many beautiful women in one House, it was like a wet dream come true.

Clutching his work bag of tools tightly to his chest he obediently followed Petra through a door marked ‘Office’.

Then his jaw dropped in awe.

The room was dark, cold and massive; vast shiny floors like liquid lapped against marble clad walls, book lined cabinets from floor to ceiling. At the far end stood a white desk; then his eyes made out a ghostly pale face hovering almost Godlike in its luminosity.

Her icy blue eyes bored into Neville’s whole body as he slowly walked up to the desk, motioning Petra to come closer without breaking her gaze, he stood unsure what to do, he thought he was only there for odd jobs not to be scrutinised like a commodity?

“Here he eez.” It wasn’t really an introduction more of a presentation, Petra seemed pleased her ‘gift’ had been accepted with a delicate nod from the beautifully coiffured blonde head.

“Good work.”

“Thank you Madam Sylvain.”

Almost immediately a elegant white hand waved them away and Nev instinctively followed Petra out of the room, he felt almost afraid of what he’d just experienced, like a static buzz down his whole body, heightening his base sense of fight or flight.

Back into the familiar kitchen still tightly clutching his work bag Neville followed her quietly.

They were not alone, although she hardly looked up from her magazine while delicately puffing on a French cigarette, the obnoxious heavy smell permeated the whole room.

“Ez taking over from Joe,” Petras introductions left a lot to be desired, “Don’t scare eem, heez here to work only.”

“Ja, ja.” she laughed.

“Pleased to meet you Miss” Nev had to say something, just to convince himself it wasn’t a lucid dream and he was actually here.

She just looked at him, although not in a very nice way, it was quite direct and penetrating, like she was peering into his very soul.

“Come on man, there eez work to do.” Petra grabbed a bunch of keys from the table and beckoned Nev to follow her impatiently.

He felt he’d just been on a rollercoaster ride and his legs were still a bit shaky.

He also sensed her eyes on his back as he left the kitchen.

She smirked while blowing billows of strong tobacco smoke in his wake as she watched his strong haunches and the manly broadness of his shoulders leave the room.

Nev was led to a brightly decorated room at the front of the house filled with wall mirrors surrounding the central feature, this looked very much like a hairdressers salon complete with sink unit in garish pink.

“Do as Selina wishes.” Petra instructed as she left him alone with the kimono clad beauty.

She eyed him for a long minute.

“This sink , it does not work well, fix it.” She left him to the task.

Nev knew all about blocked sinks and tried the usual remedies, as expected it was full of a tangled mass of knotted nylon hair and glittery soap.

“Grief!” He explained as he pulled more and more of the slimy strands up.

Looking around the now empty room, he smiled at all the different wigs displayed, imagining all the ladies of the House doing their female pampering and beatification in front of this very mirror.

It had been a long time since he’d touched a woman’s shiny locks and he couldn’t resist stroking the softness of these blonde tresses, while caught up in his own erotic fantasy.

Before he knew what he was doing he was gazing at his own transformed reflection and feeling the sensual delights of long silky hair tickling his neck.

So lost in the moment Neville was totally unaware his clandestine activity was being observed with amusement in that many mirrored room.

A short while later, hearing a loud commotion in the hallway outside, a sharp female voice barked orders and a loud thwack followed by a high pitched yelp of pain. Nev snapped back to his senses just in time before his task master (or Mistress) returned; he busied himself cleaning up the now fully functioning sink as if nothing untoward had happened.

“Gut, I am pleezed.” she purred while inspecting the water disappearing unhindered down the plughole.

“Go now, you are not needed.” Neville was abruptly dismissed.

Cycling back to town in the dark, his mind again whirled with new sensations, his head was filled with pinkness and guilty pleasures. That night his dreams were darkly disturbing yet thrilling to the extreme.

He couldn’t wait to return to the House.

 

©Juliette Dodd 2020

– The HOUSE –

* AUTHORS NOTE – this photo story contains adult themed material – so anyone who had a sheltered upbringing or has a delicate disposition is advised to stop now and come back when I have exhausted this storyline ( which may be a while yet as it’s too much fun)

~*~

Neville had many jobs during his travelling years: washer upper, chef, barman, labourer, taxi driver, you name it, he’s probably done it (maybe not well, but he’s had a go!)

Standing in the spotless kitchen of the secluded mansion House in the woods with the beautiful yet abrupt German lady, Neville mustered up his manly practical skills to obey her instructions, she pointed to the sink half full of cold congealed washing up water.

“There, fix eet.”

“Oh yeah, this is blocked right up, have you got a bucket…er …Miss?” Neville still didn’t know her name.

“Ja, there.” she replied sternly, pointing to the next cupboard, “Get it done, NOW.”

Neville was a little bit scared and a little bit thrilled by her abruptness.

Delving under the sink to remedy the cause of this problem, he had to clear out a space to work first, ‘A torch, that’s handy’ he thought as he didn’t have any tools with him.

Taking off his Jacket, Nev tried the usual things first, boiling water, pumping the plughole to create a vacuum, nothing seemed to budge whatever the blockage was.

“You haven’t poured cooking fat down there recently…er….Miss?”

“Nein, nein, you can address me as Mistress ….Mistress Petra.”

“I’m Neville.” He replied, glad to know her name at last.

As he got on with the stinky job of cleaning out the U bend, she marched off, click clack went her heels on the hard floor.

“Do eet and clean up after.” She called as she left Nev alone in the echoey large kitchen.

He was sure he heard distant stifled screams, ‘Must be the wind’ he thought.

The pipe was stiff and took a bit of effort to unscrew, the putrid smell was gross, as expected as the dirty water gushed into the bucket.

It’s not even windy outside, Nev’s mind was roaming as more faint shouts could be heard, it was all most peculiar.

At last the sink pipe was cleaned out, Nev found some weird stuff that he could have sworn was candle wax as well as hair balls and an earring; quite pleased with himself he imagined her thanking him and smiled.

Like all good workmen, Nev cleaned up and put everything back where he’d found them, washing out the stinky bucket he gazed around the kitchen when his eyes fell on some unusual things. He wondered who else lived in this big house, must be a man he guessed, by the detritus.

His curiosity had been roused, a men’s magazine, keys and what looked like Gauloise in the ashtray ( he’d travelled in France too) Nev scanned the letter but it was written in German and he wasn’t very good at reading although he recognised a few words, not enough to understand the content.

Getting bolder he opened the top draw and got the shock of his life…a GUN!

Money, travellers cheques and plane tickets – this was NOT what he’d expected to find.

‘SHIT!’ his brain went into panic mode, shutting the drawer swiftly on hearing noises in the corridor outside.

With heart thumping he tried to work out what it could be – a shuffling and squeaking with breathless grunts as well as the heavy thud thump of slowly moving footsteps.

As the noise maker passed, he couldn’t help himself, opening the kitchen door quietly he peeked down the hall.

SHIT!

Gobsmacked….with utter shock and tingling with….oh dear….Neville’s brain was numbed.

What on earth had he just seen?

Unbelieving, he had another look to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating as the strange scenario slowly disappeared up the long darkened hallway to a distant entrance followed by the slamming of a door.

He stood alone in the hall for a long time it seemed, trying to make sense of the whole situation.

Questions, queries, and conundrums whirled around in his head, his thought was interrupted by the opposite door opening and lovely Petra appearing.

“Ah, you have finished ja?” Nev sheepishly nodded.

“Err yes….Miss….Mistress Petra, it’s all sorted now, as right as rain.”

“Gut gemacht.”

“I am pleased viv you.” She handed him a note, a pound note, which Nev was happy to accept ( it was a long week till payday and he was skint as always)

“No problem, Miss….Mistress Petra, I’m happy to help such a lovely lady as yourself…” He was beginning to get his priorities in order and really wanted to see more of this special lady now the job was finished. Just when he was mustering up to ask if he could see her again the door opened.

The same lady he’d seen in the hallway not ten minutes beforehand. Tall, statuesque and with a haughty expression of almost distaste, she stood inspecting his whole figure with her dark eyes, appraising him from head to boots, making a throaty humph sound.

“Is zis the one?” she asked Petra, rudely ignoring Neville as if he was an item of furniture.

“Ja.”

“Er ist akzeptabel.”

Neville looked quizzically from one to the other.

“My sister Felina agrees, you vill work for us, zis house iz old and need repair…how you say… heimwerker…handyman?

Neville was taken aback by the offer (or command, he wasn’t sure which) as he gazed from one beautiful face to the other, he could tell they were definitely related and the idea of sisters gave him a bit of a thrill too.

“Yes, great, when shall I start?” He was tad over eager and the excitement of that evenings goings on had roused his blood.

“Come again next Monday night.”

Then it hit him, this wasn’t a full time job, he’d have to wait a whole week to see her again.

“Ok but what do you want me to do then?”

“The gutter, it eez blocked, mend it.”

With that he was unceremoniously ushered out of the house with barely time to grab his jacket.

It was a long dark bike ride back to town, especially with no lights, all the time his mind was excitedly thinking about his next visit to the House. Neville was only just in time to catch last orders at the ‘Jolly Sailor’ pub but decided not to mention his evenings whereabouts to his brother Barry.

“Where have you been, I thought you’d done a bunk?”

“Er…went to the cinema.” Nev lied. He had been staying at Barry’s pad since he returned but perhaps it was time to find his own place, away from awkward questions and prying eyes.

“Hey, Nev I told Sindy about that chick today.” he taunted.

“Yes, who is she? Are you seeing her again? Barry said she looked foreign? I’m so glad you are making other friends.” Sindy was getting a bit fed up with him being the gooseberry around Barry’s place, especially as he creeped all her friends out.

“Not sure.” Was all he answered ambiguously.

What happens when he returns to the House?

What other strange goings on will he witness?

Wait and find out in the next exciting story….

©Juliette Dodd 2020