Charlotte Arabella Graham

Continues from chapter 6 Chapter 7 Charles rang Barry that weekend to let him know the decision. “Jolly good, jolly good,” he said. His relief sounded even over the telephone. “I was concerned I’d left it too late asking you, got too busy with the collection, and that you’d found something else.” Charles started to say something but Barry was now in full-flow. “I don’t just want you to be a caretaker. I’ve grown the business from nothing and don’t want it to go stale. New ideas, different ways of looking at things. Thinking out of the box and all that. ...

(story continues from The Chaperone’s Apprentice 3) Part 4 Cecilia was on the train, Premier Business Class, pretending to be Xara for the benefit of any paparazzi that might have been looking – it was important that everyone should think that she had, indeed, checked out of the hȏtel that morning. Looking out of the carriage window she thought how dull the scenery of that part of northern France was; so unlike further south. For a time the train ran alongside the A1 motorway; its driver seemingly taking a perverse pleasure in going at least twice as fast as the cars on the road and rapidly disappearing into the distance. Soon they were in the tunnel under the English Channel then out into the Kent countryside for the final run up to London. ...

(story continues from Ms Westbury’s Niece 3: France) Part Four: Plans Chapter 11 A little later, Cecilia, now dressed as a parlour maid, was stationed waiting in the entrance hall. She heard another car on the drive; noisier and more modern. Cecilia opened the door a crack. She wasn’t very good at European cars, was it a Jaguar, perhaps, certainly one of the Prince’s. Whatever, it could only be Joseph; no-one else would have been let in at the front gate this, of all, mornings. ...

Continues from chapter 11 Chapter 12 Amber was bored. Gwyneth was preoccupied with getting to know Zoltan; Leslie was on the ‘phone to some auction sale or other bidding for some silly piece of artwork. Charles had once again drawn the short straw and was doing the domestic chores. ‘I suppose I could go and help him,’ she thought. As she idly flipped through one of the erotic magazines that seemed to be the staple of the library. ‘But why should I. It was to her that he owed the contract with Barry and everything else, so why should she get involved. Perhaps later when it was dinner time she might go and set the table. She was on holiday and wanted fun and excitement not doing the ironing and things.’ ...

Continues from chapter 4 Chapter 5 The dresses Leslie had ordered for the party had arrived from Ectomorph. What she had chosen for herself was still a closely guarded secret. The serving wenches, as she now increasingly referred to Amber, Charles and Gwyneth, had, however, been summoned to attend on the Presence in order to try on their uniforms and parade them for inspection. Leslie had the dresses, shoes and other garments and accessories laid out on three chairs in her lounge. Amber took the dress from her pile and held it up. ...

Continues from chapter 9 Chapter 10 It was obvious that Leslie had been in cahoots with Fräulein Peitsche for months planning this visit and already had a pretty good working knowledge of the place as well as what she had in store for the other three. Thus, she led the way out of the hall and across the courtyard and made her way unerringly to a stable block on the side opposite the main building. ...

Continues from chapter 7 Chapter 8 Spring had given way to early summer before Charles was settled into his new role, done his first round of visits and could relax once more. All of the Gals and Charles had arranged to meet on Saturday evening. At the last moment Gwyneth had had to excuse herself because one of her horses had taken sick but, as suitable opportunities seemed to be very rare, the remaining three were now together in the dungeon. ...

Continues from chapter 13 Chapter 14 Next day Leslie sent Gwyneth out after lunch. Ostensibly by way of a penance or punishment for some unspecified misdemeanour, but actually for fun, to ride Zoltan in the forest dressed as a latter-day Lady Godiva, that is to say naked except for her long hair, Gwyneth’s naturally waist level mane being augmented for this purpose to near knee-length by a wig. They had been assured it was entirely private and devoid of Peeping Toms. Even so Gwyneth was not sure she much liked the idea of being out there on her own like that, though if she had complained she was sure Leslie would have retorted to the effect, “What’s like got to do with it.” ...

Continues from chapter 2 Chapter 3 Some days later Leslie was paying Charles a social call. She had already found herself a snug corner of the settee and, having kicked off her shoes had her feet tucked up under her. Charles, for once not in one of his maid’s outfits, had automatically wandered off to the kitchen to make coffee for both of them. “Hey, Charlotte, something funny’s happened to the well,” Leslie called in competition with the hissing espresso machine. ...

This story is a sequel to “The Consultants” Chapter 1 Brrrring, brrrring, Leslie reached over for the ‘phone, wincing as she did so, abrupt changes of position still catching her unawares. “Hello Lesso,” it was an excited Amber on the other end. “I’ve just found an amazing ad on the Internet. It says, ‘The Mistress invites those already well versed in BD and SM to vacation at her fairy-tale castle set in extensive, secluded grounds. Well-equipped dungeons offer a comprehensive range of traditional and modern apparatus. The spacious bedrooms have many ‘interesting features’ that will appeal to the connoisseur. In order to give opportunities for the greatest range of possible activities a maximum of four guests can be accommodated at any one time.’ All this came out in a torrent. ...

(story continues from The Consultants 4.18) Part 4: Chapter 19 Leslie’s convalescence was progressing well. Nevertheless, the early autumn weather was lovely and she felt no urged to leave Gwyneth and the open spaces of the countryside round Saxon Court for the confines of London. Amber’s erratic schedule often allowed her to base herself there too, while Charles came down each weekend, arriving late on Friday evening and returning to Town on Monday at the crack of dawn so as to beat the traffic. ...

story continued from part 2a Part 2b: Chapter 10 Leslie dropped Charles off at the hôtel. His head still in a whirl, he struggled out of the car, rubber sticking against leather upholstery and hardly heard Leslie as she wound down the window of her British racing green soft-top Jaguar XK8. “Good night,” she shouted then, before disappearing into the night, “see you in the morning!” Oblivious to the fact that he was still wearing the rubber dress in which he had set out that morning he made his way to the lift lobby, failing, for once, to acknowledge the salute of the ever-present doorman. ...

story continued from part 2 Part 2a: Chapter 8 Charles woke late with a start. He had been dreaming. Most of what had passed through his mind was the usual kind of dim haze, but one dream was still quite clear though and thoroughly ridiculous; he couldn’t move his legs and was being squeezed like a giant tube of tooth paste. He reached out semi-consciously to turn on the light to see what time it was. His hand felt funny. As a little more consciousness returned he realised that he was still wearing the tightly laced-up rubber dress and long gloves from the night before. ...

(story continues from The Consultants) Part 2: Chapter 6 Charles got back to his room and dumped the box and parcels on the table. Now that the flow of adrenaline had subsided, the thing in his bottom was making his backside ache and his nipples burned like fury. He tried to rub them through the layers of rubber, but that bought no relief, indeed, if anything it made them worse. He really had to cool off. Taking off the Wonder Woman belt and earrings helped a little once the pain of circulation returning to his pinched earlobes had subsided. What he longed for, though, was a relaxing soak in the bath, but until Amber arrived with the keys that would be difficult. He filled the hand basin from the cold tap and splashed the water on his front. After the first shock the cooling effect was wonderful. ...

Part One Chapter 1 Ms Westbury sat at her large desk set in the bay window looking out over the garden. Light fell on the face of her visitor. “So, Ms Sinclair, why are you applying for this position?” Cecilia looked down at her hands when she replied. “Well, Ms Westbury, I think that I would be very good at it.” Ms Westbury gave a slight cough, as much as to say, ‘perhaps’, and stared at her. Cecilia met her gaze for a moment, before looking down again. ...

(story continues from Ms Westbury’s Niece) Part Two: Secrets Chapter 4 The house was large, even rambling. Cecilia judged that it must have been built in the early years of the twentieth or late nineteenth century. ‘Before the first World war, when they had loads of servants to keep it all in order’, she thought as she ran over in her mind the long list of jobs that she needed to do before Ms Westbury arrived home. ...

(story continues from Ms Westbury’s Niece 2: Secrets) Part Three: France Chapter 7 For the next few days the letter played on Ms Westbury’s mind. She was usually grumpy and Cecilia, redoubling her efforts to do everything to perfection, studiously avoided the subject. Eventually it got too much for her. Taking morning coffee to the study she noticed the letter was again on the desk. Ms Westbury had pushed back her chair and was staring up at the ceiling wrapped in thought. Cecilia put down the tray and began to pour. Ms Westbury came back from her reveries. ...

Well, here it is, The Chaperone’s Apprentice, the sequel to Ms Westbury’s Niece. Enjoy Part 1 Cecilia lay on the bed looking up at the ceiling. This last twelve months. Was it all a dream? Would he wake up and find he was still in the old hum-drum World. He pinched himself hard. “Ouch, that hurt.” Cecilia wasn’t sure that one couldn’t dream of pinches but it seemed real enough. But what a year. Twelve months ago all had seemed rosy then, without any warning, he had been summoned to the boss’s office and told that his services were no longer wanted. Going home and wondering what might now become of him, he had picked up a piece of newspaper littering the sidewalk, pavement, he corrected himself, ‘You’re in England now!’ About to drop it in a bin he realised that it was not a local one; rather it was English. He had taken the foreign paper home as something to read and found the advert. ...

(story continues from The Chaperone’s Apprentice) Part 2 Ms Westbury looked up from her big desk in the bay window as Cecilia put down a cup of coffee. She waved a letter. “It is high time that you planned and executed an assignment yourself. We have been asked to carry out a little job that will be an ideal for you to do solo. Pull up a chair and I will tell you about it”. ...

(story continues from The Chaperone’s Apprentice 2) Part 3 “Now that you have had your little practice adventure it is time for a proper one. As I am sure I have said before, the vulgar idea of the rȏle chaperone is incorrect. Original the chaperone was not so much intended to keep the young couple apart as to gently bring it together so that it did not bounce asunder again. We have such a task.” ...

Chapter 1 This tale, and its sequel, could not be told while the main characters were still in professional (sic.) practice. Even now some ambiguity is necessary, however … The roar of the passing London traffic beyond the thin Perspex of the telephone box faded to a distant buzz and for several long seconds Charles felt as though he were suspended in some kind of limbo, his visual focus narrowing rapidly until only the small rectangle of pasteboard filled it. ...

story continued from part 2b Part 3: Chapter 11 His first week as Charlotte Graham, computer consultant, passed in a blur. Monday morning Charles had spent two hours, ostensibly in getting ready but also to a very large extent in screwing up his courage. Leslie had fussed around in what seemed an uncharacteristic manner, helped Charles with his makeup and then insisted on driving him round to the office. “Just to make sure I don’t do a runner,” Charles had mordantly thought. ...

(story continues from The Consultants 3.11) Part 3: Chapter 12 It was the weekend again. Leslie, Amber and Charles were sitting in the Dungeon. Leslie in her leather dominatrix gear on her throne. Amber was dressed in a hooded red latex catsuit, with built in ballet-toed boots and arms ending in attached stiffened fingerless bondage mittens that prevented her taking the suit off without outside assistance. She had curled up in a chair, the seat of which was covered with a spiky black rubber cushion that resembled nothing so much as an oversize hedgehog. When Charles asked, she claimed that it was very comfortable. Nevertheless he could not help wondering what happened if you sat on one of the spikes. ...

(story continues from The Consultants 3.12) Part 3: Chapter 13 Next morning Charles was up early to get ready for work. Even so, looking out of the window as he prepared breakfast he could see that Leslie had beaten him to it and was already down in the mews loading things into the back of her car that had not been out of the garage since the return from the near fatal visit to collect Charles’s things ...

(story continues from The Consultants 3.13) Part 3: Chapter 14 Late next day Leslie was more or less conscious. Amber and Charles had sat by her bedside all the time, one or other briefly going off duty for a pee or to fetch more coffee. Apart from an occasional brief visit, the nursing staff left them alone. Her cut and swollen face made speaking difficult and painful for her, but they held her hand by way of encouragement and comfort and slowly pieced together what had happened from the, not always coherent ramblings, of the heavily sedated Leslie as she drifted in and out of consciousness ...

(story continues from The Consultants 3.14) Part 3: Chapter 15 Leslie had been discharged from hospital, Ray Browne having declared that he had done all he could in the short term. Though he proposed surgery to mitigate some of the damage, his opinion was that the operation would best be deferred for a few months to give his emergency repairs time to heal. He had been insistent that she should not walk other than was absolutely necessary and that she should temporarily suspend her professional activities. ...

(story continues from The Consultants 3.15) story continued from part 3.15 Part 4: Chapter 16 Charles’s Hoovering of his lounge carpet was interrupted by a knocking on the inner door to the stairs leading up from Leslie’s living quarters. He glanced at the clock as he went to open it. It was not uncommon for her to come up for a chat on Saturday morning, but this was unexpectedly early. “All right, I coming,” he called, thinking that, perhaps, he should not wear such high heels while doing his house work though, at the same time admitting that he was now rather addicted to them and, anyway, they went especially well with the maid’s outfit he wore when cleaning and were good practice for his every day office ‘flatties’ with mere twelve centimetre heels. ...

(story continues from The Consultants 4.16) Part 4: Chapter 17 Gwyneth sobbed uncontrollably. Charles put his arm round her to try to comfort her. She turned her face to his shoulder for a few minutes. She pulled away and with a sniff pushed back another tear and wiped his shoulder with her hand smudging further the mascara and makeup already deposited there. She tried to force a smile. “I’m afraid it’s going to be the last time you wear that white jacket. You should have stuck to the rubber dress you had on when we first met.” ...

(story continues from The Consultants 4.17) Part 4: Chapter 18 Gwyneth was in the study seated in front of a professional video player and monitor. From time to time she stopped the tape, shuttling back and forth a few frames to find exactly what she wanted then pressing a key of the computer Charles had set up for her to garb them as a permanent record for later enhancement and study. The tapes she was watching so intently had been obtained by Amber, courtesy of her rapidly widening circle of television contacts, both on and off the set. Together they covered almost every race in which Sarah Turnbull had entered a horse. ...