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.

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)

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.

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.

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!

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)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

‘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!

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.

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.

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

©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.

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.”

“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.

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.

“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.

“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.

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.

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.

“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.

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.

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.

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.

“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.”

“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.”

“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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

“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.

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.”

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.

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?

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 Hairdressers

Alphonso had been a ladies hairdresser for a long time now; his early career as a male model for the London Fashion Houses had come to an abrupt end when he hit the grand old age of 30.

He had won prestigious Hair awards, had film star clients and been featured in all the hair magazines in his heyday; now he was getting tired and suffered with varicose veins, he longed to retire to Morocco with his long time companion Raymond.

The busy High Street Salon was gradually less so, with a drop in regular weekly appointments hitting the profits and his retirement fund in a worrying way. Alphonso didn’t like to admit that his business was getting a bit dated – just like his signature hair style.

So dated, he totally missed the swinging sixties altogether!

He adored the glamour of the fifties and occasionally exulted himself with a full swirl for those extra special occasions, with lashings of hair lacquer.

Ladies would come in asking for the Pixie Cut, the asymmetrical Bob or a Jean Shrimpton – but they all left with a Doris Day and copious amounts of hairspray.

Eventually Alphonso had to bite the bullet and placed an advert in his window reading:

‘Apprentice Wanted – must be prompt, polite and willing to learn – Apply within’

This notice immediately caught the keen eye of an eager young man, he started work the following Monday.

His name was Ken.

Ken was a fast learner, the ladies loved his gentle ways and he idolised Alphonso, following his every word, like a father figure.

Things couldn’t have gone better and all was harmonious in the Salon.

It didn’t take long before Ken’s appointment book was getting so full they had to turn customers away, his regulars were spreading the word.

Ken was a natural, he snipped and shaped, couffered and curled; as well as being very handsome and charismatic, of course he was instantly popular.

Ken just loved hearing all about the ladies holidays in Morecambe, St. Ives and Clackmannonshire; he even learnt a few dark secrets and juicy stories; the goings on at No. 69 were regularly discussed, amid shocked gasps and stifled giggles.

Alphonso had heard them all before, he only dreamed of the azure sea and sun tanning.

“You are an artist, young Ken.” Alphonso took all the credit for his young protégé.

“Thanks Alf.” it slipped out without him thinking as he was thrown a dark disapproving scowl.

“Sorry, Alphonso.”

“I have a proposition for you but we’ll speak later.” as he was mid way through some highlights and needed exact timing.

Ken waited excitedly, he had a proposition too.

Old Mrs Sindy had always had ‘problem’ hair and today was no exception. Alphonso was a genius and could always tame her barnet, although nothing lasted long in the dank English weather and it eventually frizzed up again. She was his best customer.

Ken was a wizz with the curlers and almost legendary at creating magnificent permanent waves to rival even Alphonso’s mastery (and that was saying something!)

“Pass us that magazine, theres a love.” called Old Mrs Sindy.

“Oh thats not a magazine, its my new book.” Ken replied as he shoved a handful of Woman’s Weeklys onto her lap. He’d been studying the crisp pages for weeks now and itching to have a go himself .

The morning rush had died down at the Salon when Ken summoned up the courage to show Alphonso.

“Why don’t we cut mens hair as well as ladies, Alphonso?”

“Huh?”

“I’ve been reading this book and think it would bring in loads more customers, we could sell hair cream and beard oil as well as a whole range of shampoo …and offer male perms and sideburn trimming…” Ken was so excited he ranted on and on until at last he stopped as Alphonso let out a sad sigh.

“I’m too old for all that.” Alphonso had a far away expression on his perfectly moisturised face.

Ken was crestfallen and turned to retreat into the back room.

“Wait Ken, now hear my proposition,” as he held out the shop keys,

“You take them, I’m giving you my business, I haven’t got an heir but if I had one I’d like it to be you.”

“What do you say?”

Ken for once, was speechless.

“Oh yes, yes please, oh me, oh my, oh goodness…ooooh!”

“Lets shake on it then, I’ll have my solicitor write up the transfer, my Empire is now yours, to do with as you please.”

With a huge sigh of relief Alphonso had already planned his departure to sunny lands, of sipping sundowners on warm beaches; leaving behind the mounting bills and leaky roof, not to mention the lease was ending soon…but that won’t be his problem for long.

Two months later, a refit, a rename and a relaunch of the High Streets very first unisex hair salon.

It was so modern, so trendy and odds on to become a roaring success.

Ken was the happiest man alive.

©Juliette Dodd 2020

New Year – part 2

In the early hours of New Years day, a raucous car load of drunken revellers sang on their way home; too far intoxicated to blush at the filthy sailors songs, the girls cackled and joined in at the chorus….

“Friggin’ in the riggin’,

“Friggin’ in the riggin’….”

Oh dear was that…yes, the familiar sound of a distant siren!

As the flashing lights got brighter, Burt stomach sunk as he slowed down and stopped…they were only a half mile from home too, bugger.

“‘Ello, ‘ello….been to a party have we?”

Burt wound his window down and tried to act sober.

Barry also wound his window down and waved a bottle of Pomagne out, offering it to the Policemen jovially.

That didn’t help the situation one little bit.

“Can you all step out of the vehicle please.” The policeman wasn’t in a jovial mood, having to do the worst night of the week.

The inebriated gang of party goers tumbled out of the car into the cold night air, grumbling and arguing, they were so close to home as well!

“How many drink have you had this evening Sir?”

Burt honestly had no idea, he was an old sailor and counting was for wimps or the army.

“Just blow into this for me Sir…until I say stop.”

“I’ve had 15 bottles….Happy New Year.” slurred Barry as he clumsily stumbled over grabbing the policeman sleeve while still tightly holding onto the open bottle with the other hand.

“Want a swig?” he kindly proffered before swinging around and staggering over to the car.

Meanwhile the girls had cornered the fresh faced young constable, being new to the beat, he’d been allocated tonights duty ‘for experience’ purposes.

“Oh, you’re so young?”

“…and handsome.”

“Can I try on your helmet, oh isn’t it heavy?”

“Let’s feel your muscles….what a big boy!”

“Madam!” he shrieked, “Remove your hand at once.”

As the ladies drunkenly tussled over the helmet this suddenly without warning escalated into a full on cat fight.

All was all becoming too much for poor Barry as his head spun with the still flashing lights and screaming, not to mention the evenings mixture of beer, cocktails and Pomagne.

“Man down.” Burt shouted as he grabbed Barry just in time, the girls immediately forgot their squabble and rushed to help their fallen comrade.

“Right, you’re all nicked, down the station with you.”

The girls wailed and used some very foul language indeed, even Burt was shocked.

It wasn’t long until they were all under the fierce unforgiving fluorescent lights of the Police station, slightly swaying as they steadied each other, Sindy and Barbie listened to the officer recount their recent behaviour.

Shamefaced they realised there would be consequences, Sindy’s mother would be informed, they may even be mentioned in the local newspaper.

Tears welled but to no avail.

‘And what have you got to say for yourself, my good man?”

Burt was getting his turn, he knew by past experience to not say anything, he didn’t want any more trouble than he was already in.

Barry was surprisingly still standing, although not very steadily.

The misdemeanours were listed aloud as Burt listened silently, wishing they’d booked a taxi but it was too late for ifs and buts.

Barry could contain himself no more and made full use of the complementary police issue bucket, much to the disgust of the young Police constable, who almost gagged along with him.

“With the breathalyser result as well as your statement, I have no other option than to charge you, but being your first offence in this county the court may be lenient.

Burt, you’ve let us all down.

Burt – charged with being drunk in charge of a vehicle and speeding.

Barry – charged with being drunk and disorderly and vomiting on a Police officer.

Barbie – charged with sexual assault of a Police officer and disorderly conduct.

Sindy – Disorderly conduct

Happy New Year

A fool learns by their own mistakes and wise man learns by others – Don’t Drink and Drive.

©Juliette Dodd 2020

Old Year – part 1

The end of another year, Burt reflected on all his past adventures as he travelled back from an emotional London trip, visiting the old family. This was the first Christmas he didn’t have a lady companion around for a very long time.

He had tried to get into the festive spirit but there was only one kind that warmed his lonely heart tonight.

Meanwhile at Sindy’s house, she’d woken up especially early to get the sprouts on before Barry came round for Christmas dinner. Everything was prepared, Sindy was very organised and wanted to impress her boyfriend with her culinary skills.

Barry duly arrived bringing gifts and became very excited at the prospect of carving the turkey: he really wanted to impress Sindy with his manly knife skills.

“Oh Barry.” Sindy was certainly impressed ( and maybe even a little scared) as he brandished the sharpened blade before deftly slicing the (slightly dry) breast, brushing away the turkey crumbs until he had quite a few almost whole slices to display.

Barry tried hard to disguise his look of sheer repulsion at Sindy’s slightly brown coloured greens, he wasn’t quite sure what vegetable they were originally but hoped the gravy will help.

Meanwhile in another part of town, Max and Barbie were breaking up, tensions were fraught and emotions were heightened by the pre luncheon alcohol consumption.

He didn’t get her the gift she had been hinting heavily at the last month and she was too spoilt and selfish (apparently!)

Christmas was over

Just before the old year ended there was one last chance to grab a bit of happiness and that was at the New Years Eve party.

Barry sang in the shower as he splashed on his new Christmas aftershave, it wasn’t quite ‘The best a man can get’ or even the one that ‘Drives women wild’, not the ‘Mark of a Man’ because Barry is a man who doesn’t have to try too hard.

The party was swinging

Music and dancing as the revellers toasted each other and the New Year.

Barry’s brother Neville surprised everyone by bringing his saxophone for some mellow jazz.

An impromptu accompaniment from Tom’s acoustic guitar; he always had a few adoring groupies, being very popular with the alternative ladies.

Not to be outdone, Burt got his horn out, he couldn’t resist showing what a real man could do.

Catching the eye (and ear) of a lonely love sick lady who was a teeny bit drunk already, steamy suggestive glances were exchanged.

As the evening progressed more toasts where made, Ken and his Hair salon girls turned up late, better late than never Barry toasted, even though he didn’t particularly like Ken, it was New Years after all!

The room stopped chattering as Stacey loudly marched in with a serious drum roll as the clock struck 12 to jubilant shouts and whoops from the excited revellers.

“Happy New Year!” Burt was the first to grab the two willowy girls for a big bear hug and copious kisses, always an opportunist, he was being greedy.

Mindy ( Sindy’s best friend) had her date all sorted, she hadn’t let him out of sight all evening as the rumour Barbie was single was scary enough to take drastic precautions.

“Happy New Year!” Barry and Sindy toasted each other, then the rest of the room as the drunken happiness spread to everyone for the first of January had begun.

Stacey kept on banging that drum as she marched off first footing down the road, her Scottish tradition to spread luck and prosperity as well as a few more drinkies on route (this party was nearly dry!)

To be continued in – New Year – part 2

©Juliette Dodd 2020

SHIP WRECK

Barry’s big brother Neville had been staying over for a few nights but he was beginning to feel restless and confined, preferring open spaces and seeing the stars than four walls and a ceiling

His constant pacing around like a caged animal was beginning to get on Barry’s nerves, even when he was quiet, he wasn’t – forever sniffing, coughing and mumbling to himself.

“Come on Nev, lets go down the pub?”

“Ok, thats a good plan Baz…but I’m a bit short at the moment.” As he emptied his pockets, 15p and half a pack of dusty Woodbines tumbled out.

“My shout, you can owe me one.” Barry said knowing that may not happen for a long while.

“I’ll try and get you on the bins with me, we’re a lad down since Arthurs accident.”

“Cheers.” Although Neville was hoping for a musical related job rather than hard graft.

In the back bar of ‘The Jolly Sailor’ sat Burt quietly mulling over the remnants of his last pint, he perked up when the boys burst in.

“Two pints of Best, Cheryl….and a pint for my mate Burt” Barry was feeling generous, it was the day after payday and he still had a wad in his pocket.

Burt, Barry and Neville toasted each other, awkwardly the conversations started then stumbled as Neville was only giving one word answers, eventually Barry asked Burt a leading question to rev up his storytelling yarns.

“Have you ever been shipwrecked Burt?”

“Have I ever….it was late summer when a freak storm hit our boat….”

*FLASHBACK CAMERA WOBBLES*

As the salty sea waves crashed over the crude raft, a recumbent figure was drenched for the umpteenth time. Not a flicker of life was to be seen as the sea birds circled above hoping for a tasty titbit.

Dawn had broken revealing a calm horizon after the furious tempest that raged all last night.

Burt was lying unconscious, as the raft was gently carried on the prevailing tides, he had no idea how long he’d drifted; only aware of his gnawing hunger and overwhelming fatigue as each day gradually became night.

As if in the far distance, the familiar sea sounds drastically changed as he fell in and out of consciousness, the waves became louder as they rhythmically pummelled the soft yielding sand and withdrew fulfilled swirling spume and shingle until the next one rushed in.

Over the beach the girls playfully chased and dodged each other while they enjoyed the first day of their weekend break.

Giggling and splashing along the shoreline in the soft sand and shallow warm waters, they stopped in their tracks at the strange sight; half scared and half inquisitive the girls approached the raft, desperately hoping not to see a gruesome sight.

“Is he dead?”

“How should I know, poke him.”

“No you poke him”

The recumbent figure didn’t look dead, just very wet and a bit sunburnt, as the girls argued about what to do now, whether to call the police or coastguard?

His head felt heavy and was throbbing incessantly, the high pitched sounds pierced his eardrums as Burt gradually came to with a grunt.

The noise continued as the girls squealed their surprise at his sudden movement.

“Oh my gosh, he’s alive!”

“Are you alright?”

“No,” grunted Burt hoarsely, he suddenly became aware of how thirsty he was, his mouth was drier than a crisp packet.

All Burt could see was a lithe pair of firm tanned female thighs.

‘Am I in Heaven?’ He blinked tightly and tried to focus again.

“Oh you poor thing.”

“Let us help you.”

Burt was so weak and his legs were wobbly, between both the strong strapping girls they managed to support his manly form and slowly he limped back to their beach encampment.

Stacey was quietly reading her book when she spied her friends returning.

“What the devil! You girls are fast worker.” She chuckled, thinking at first Burt was drunk.

“We saved him!”

“Yes, he would have died if we hadn’t have rescued him.”They seemed very pleased with themselves, although Burt was close to collapsing again.

” Wat – er… water.” He whispered weakly.

“Oh dear, we’ve only got beer and some bottles of Lambrini.”

Then Burt knew he really had died and this was his heaven. Glugging down a small bottle of beer, then another and another to quench his incessant thirst was the last thing he remembered.

“Aw, he’s gone to sleep and we don’t even know his name.”

“He must have an exciting tale to tell, wonder where he comes from?”

“Do you think he’s a natural blonde, lets check?”

“Barbie! Leave him alone.”

Burt suddenly sat bolt upright and alert,

“Where am I? How did I get here?”

“We were going to ask you that.”

“…and where is my shirt?” Barbie just tittered while she rubbed sun lotion into his arms and back, “Oh what firm muscles you have.”

” …and that’s how I first met Stacey.”

“What happed then?” Barry was curious, Neville was silent.

“Er, well that’s the tricky part.” Burt explained, “I was reported as missing presumed dead…and I still am where the official records are concerned.”

“Oh!”

“Bit like me, under the radar.” Muttered Neville, more to himself than a general statement.

A Few Dollies More

Burt was staying in lodgings at the very respectable Guest House run by Miss Sindy.

Stiff Men’s Creek wasn’t all rough and uncouth, it’s very religious Towns Women Guild was growing in numbers with new members joining almost daily; the word had spread fast it was a safe haven for ladies who had once fallen.

With a tasty portion of cow pie on his plate Burt could hardly wait to begin.

“Not before you say Grace Mr Burt, this is a God fearing household” Miss Sindy chastised her guest piously.

Miss Belinda also lodged here, she’d paid in gold four months in advance, no questions asked, Miss Sindy was very discrete.

“Do you get many male guests? He asked as he drunk his second cup of coffee.

“Not really only you, all the men head straight for that house of shame across the street, next to the Saloon.” She tutted at its very existence.

Burt wanted to track down the whereabouts of an evil Bandit called ‘The Butcher’, some deeper investigation was needed.

In the cool of the Saloon bar, amid the company of the rough and ready towns men, Burt joined in a friendly card game.

Murray Steel eyed this newcomer with suspicion,

“We don’t want no trouble makers around her…I mean here.” He was a very jealous man and knew where Burt was staying.

“I’m just a passing through buddy, on my way to find me a fortune.”

They all laughed at their shared common goal, every man wanted a fortune, whatever it took.

There was a sudden silence at the bar followed by hushed worried voices.

“Mutter mutter…bandit…mutter…just arrived…mutter…in town…”

“The Butcher!” squealed Cowboy Ken loudly as the others shushed him quickly by slapping his hand.

Tension was rising as their game was reaching its climax, gradually the stakes were raised waiting for the cards to be turned.

Burt was being reckless and bid all his hard earned cash on this last hand, he had an inkling he might be coming into some fresh funds pretty soon.

“Four Aces does it …thank you boys.” Fanning out his winning cards on the table, Burt was quietly pleased at this unexpected bonus.

Just then the doorway darkened as a large figure loomed briefly, a pair of dark squinting eyes surveyed the motley customers within, seemingly satisfied he moved on letting a stream of sunlight pierce the gloom.

As his heavy foot steps headed off next door, the scared whispers at the bar got louder; Burt cooly collected his winnings and bid ‘Good day’ to his fellow gamblers.

Barry had gone back to meet his prospective father-in-law Chief Howlin’ Wolf, to tell the truth Burt preferred working alone, especially as Barry was so drunk and miserable.

Next door to the busy Saloon on the only street in Stiff Men’s Creek was the infamous house of Sin, Madame Barbie’s Bawdy Bordello; with its plush furnishings and comely companions, this was the most popular place in town.

A tall dark, heavily built figure loitered impatiently in the lobby.

‘”Come on lover, I’m worth more than that, especially after what I just did to you…none of the other girls would!” Mad Kate hustled her John.

“Why did you throw my boot outa the window, you silly mare?”

Mad Kate didn’t get her nickname for nothing.

Madame Barbie’s best girls were on hand to tempt this big burly stranger and relieve him of his heavy coin pouch.

One wanton harlot flashed her knees in a bid to get his exclusive attention, he uttered a low long animalistic growl at the sight of her shapely and sleek legs.

Mad Kate promised him some of her special sticky peachy fun as she wafted a jar of preserves around in a titillating way.

He grunted and shook his head, no way, not after the last time when she did the chilli pepper trick.

Mad Kate would go too far even for this mean Bandit.

While they disappeared into the back room, Mad Kate leisurely supped from a bottle of the best while humming a popular Music hall ditty,

“A little bit of what you fancy does you goooood…”

Then she rubbed honey inside his hat ( the nutty tart!)

Later that day, on the outskirts of the strangely sedate town of Stiff Men’s Creek, at the very edge of the arid desert, two hard nosed adversaries eyeballed each other next to a long dead tree.

No one could miss ‘The Butcher’ with his distinctive hat and unfortunate flatulence problem, as he stood his ground against this new antagonist, lots of flies and bees seemed to be drawn to him too, not to mention ants.

Being on the ‘Most Wanted’ list was becoming a bit of a pain, forever on the move with young bucks trying their luck to claim the bounty price on his head.

“What do you want Gringo?”

“I want you to come with me to the Sheriff’s office.” That was a simple answer to the question.

“Why would I do that Gringo, do I look like a fool hahaha?”

“No Mister, you look like one hundred thousand dollars!”

“Go to hell.” He shouted back, spitting out a big lump of chewing baccy and puffing out his chest in a show of masculine dominance.

“Dead or alive the poster said, you choose your own fate.”

It was all over quicker than a hummingbird’s poop, two gunshots echoed through the gully and only one man stood tall.

“Bugger!” Muttered Burt, who had only mean to aim for his leg.

‘Now I’ve gotta get his big ol’ carcass back to town before the coyotes and buzzards come to feed.’ Burt’s annoyance was only quelled by the thought of the massive reward money.

THE END

“Cut!”

“It’s a wrap folks, see you all at the premier.” Called the Director, sweating under the hot sun, “May you all get an Oscar darlings.”

Burt gave Butch a hand up,

“I’m parched!”

“Yoo Hoo, boys.” Waving seductively from a short distance off set were the delicious twins Mali and Boo.

“We thought you’d never get that last bit right, 15 takes to fall down, Butchy baby you are a one!” They chaffed, giggling.

“Haha, thank goodness it was sand else my ass would be black n’ Blue.”

“We’ve been trying to keep the cocktails cold.”

“Cheers everyone”

( You must know by now I don’t do nasty stories!)

A Fistful of Dollies

Big Gun Barry was in love, his wild and roaming heart had been skilfully lassoed by the charms of Big Chief Howling Wolf’s twin daughters ( Big Gun Barry wasn’t fussed which sister he married to tell the whole truth y’all!)

After many a Pow Wow and quite a lot of liquid fire water persuasion followed by some serious sessions on the peace pipe, Big Gun Barry had agreed to become a Brave; the only way the Chief would let him marry his beloved daughter(s)

Once the initiation period was over the wedding ceremony would commence, in three moons time – on the condition of a large dowry payment of course; daughters were a precious commodity.

Big Gun Barry was, as usual, broke.

Pretty Pocaharder was eager for the sacred matrimonial ceremony, Pocalonger couldn’t wait for the nuptials.

Big Gun Barry was beside himself with frustration, he needed some mega bucks and fast.

Time to seek out his old partner.

The man with one name ~ BURT

The deadliest and quietest gunslinger in the West.

“Beautiful mornin’ Ladies.” Always the perfect gentleman, Burt doffed his hat to the respectable towns women of this busy trading outpost called Stiff Men’s Creek.

Half way between the plains and the Mountains and not too far from the desert, this far flung ramshackle town was always full of roaming settlers, prospectors and sometimes even outlaws!

Barry had to drop his rootin’ tooting’ cowboy name and take on a new tribal one (it was part of his initiation)

He wasn’t very happy to be re-Christened ‘Little Gecko,’ it just didn’t have the same connotations but it was the first animal to be seen at the naming ceremony, so be it.

“If that’s what you want?” Burt was a bit surprised at how far Barry would go to get a bride (or two).

“Yeah, but I still need to make some big dollars quick, any ideas Burt?”

“We’ll have to go back to Bounty hunting ‘cos I know you hate mining.”

The God fearing Church going ladies were chatting loudly about the gallery of villains on all the ‘Wanted’ posters, so very ugly, what awful crimes and how they should find redemption if they only saw the light and mended their thieving ways.

“Why, I do believe you’re not a real Injun?” One lady questioned Barry who was busy trying to find the bottom of the bottle.

He just growled his annoyance, he wasn’t a happy Barry!

‘What is the New World coming to?’ thought Burt, as he saw so many females on the posters, Pear Heart, Della Rose, he was sure he’d had a dalliance with at least one of these naughty ladies.

‘Belle Starr!’ Burt whistled at the $750 reward, she sure looked familiar!

“She’d sort our finances out a treat.” He quietly folded up her poster for later viewing.

In his despondent stupor Barry wasn’t convinced, he had a double dowry to find; Burt thought he was just being a little bit greedy.

“This is more like it, $100,000 for ‘The Butcher’, what a nasty piece of work, I’ve heard all the terrible tales about him.” Barry needed big funds and quickly.

He longingly thought of affording a third bride to rub his feet while the twins were tending his other areas.

Naughty Barry!

“Good afternoon Miss.” Greeted Burt as the very prim but very pretty School Teacher walked past; Barry was too lost in his own personal bourbon fuelled fantasy to notice.

The school house was right next to the Church, although mostly empty as this town had no children at present.

As he sat drinking coffee and studying the poster it suddenly clicked, Burt was sure he knew the teacher’s friend, she looked a little too familiar but he just couldn’t place where from.

He now recalled she used to have dark haired, although that was a very bad picture of her and it was a while ago back in Frisco.

Meanwhile in a secluded stable behind the school house, the stealthy figure of Murray Steel was silently saddling up a fresh steed.

( Tongue twister, the faster the better)

Murray was her willing slave, he adored his Mistress more than words could say, he would do anything she asked.

Love is the only motive.

Dressed in matching jeans and shirts, her real identity heavily shielded, this mysterious and deadly female was on a mission to rob the next stage coach before it even reached Stiff Men’s Creek.

Gold and plenty of it, the only real commodity way out in the wild West; you could buy a thousand acres, you could buy a whole town, no one messes with the highest payer.

“Be careful Belle.” Murray called as she galloped off through the sparse trees.

He would take the rap for her, thats how much he loved that wicked, wicked lady.

Burt turned a blind eye at the School house stables when a very fast horse and rider swiftly dismounted inside the gloom, he wasn’t a vindictive man and Belle had been mighty kind to him when they were ‘friends.’

A short while later that same day, two very respectable Church going Ladies walked along the empty one street town towards the deserted school house.

“Careful Belinda, I hear footsteps.” Alerted the School teacher to her companion.

They began loudly singing hymns to cover the chink chink of gold coins.

“Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me….”

“Good day to ya.” Greeted the rough handed cowboys.

“May the good Lord be with you boys.”

“I once was lost but now I’m found….”

“..was blind but now I see….”

And the school house door slammed shut.

….To be continued…..