The Spanky Bottom Consultation.
By Josephine Sanchez Vanner
Chapter 4 – Sex. Sin. And a sisterly misunderstanding.
Rodney awoke with the satisfaction of someone who was making a lot of money. He stretched, scratched and rubbed his balls for some considerable time before pressing his bedside bell.
“Come in.” He answered to the soft knock a few minutes later.
“Good morning missa Wodnee.” Dolores, his Filipino maid came in carrying his breakfast tray. Before laying it carefully across his knees, she fluffed up his pillows and arranged him comfortably in an up-right position.
As Dolores bent over the bed, Rodney resisted with some difficulty, the temptation to put his hand up her uniform and have a general fiddle.
“Don't screw with the staff. It makes it difficult to replace them when they sue.” His father had spoken with a tone of experience. As it was the only piece of advice his father ever gave him, Rodney decided it had to be worth following.
“You wun me run baf fo you?” Dolores asked in her own peculiar brand of English.
It had taken Rodney a couple of weeks before he understood a word she was saying to him, after several misunderstandings and an unwanted sponge bath, Rodney had learnt to interpret her almost unintelligible accent with ease.
“No thank you. I will shower today. No need to run me a bath.”
After a long hot shower and the feeling that every oyster in the world belonged to him, Rodney bounced down the majestic staircase of Rawlings Hall, blissfully unaware that within a very few minutes his bubble of euphoria would be burst.
“Good morning Giles. Isn't it a wonderful day. Your gays performed like circus acrobats last night, I didn't know it was possible for men to have such agility. Damn good idea of yours installing two-way mirrors, the DVD’s should prove very popular.” Rodney chirped looking forward to his first job of the day, counting the takings from the previous evening.
“Your sister Audrey's just rung. She's coming for the week-end and she's bringing people with her. She wants the Chinese room made ready for guests, a room for herself and another room for someone called Jasper.” Giles responded.
Hearing this unexpected appalling news, Rodney missed the last step and fell forward with a heavy thud, twisting his ankle awkwardly. Sitting on the marble tiled floor of the spacious and once elegant hallway, now decorated with statues of naked men and women having sex in an assortment of differing anatomical positions. He stammered, oblivious to the throbbing pain in his rapidly swelling ankle, “She's what?”
“She's coming for the week-end. She's just telephoned. She'll be here this afternoon and she's bringing people with her. “ Giles repeated slowly.
“But – but- but -that's today. What the hell are we going to do about all this?” He waved a hand in the general direction of the sexually rampant alabaster figures. “I mean we're fully booked. Typical of the stupid bitch not to give enough notice. Now what the fuck are we going to ?”
Giles raised a supercilious eyebrow, before he could say anything, Rodney exclaimed, “We are not going to do anything. You are going to phone her back and put her off.” Rodney hated it when Giles showed his superiority with a simple expression.
Unruffled Giles replied, “I've tried. She is adamant. She's going to be here this afternoon and she's coming with company. Russians, and apparently they think you are an aristocrat, so she wants you to pretend to be a Lord.” With that he turned on his heel and left Dolores struggling to help Rodney up.
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Audrey Elizabeth Evelyn August St John, had never married. The shining example of manhood Rodney had impressed on his sister filled her with a zealot's seal to remain – singularly intact. Not only had she never married but at 47 she was still a cock virgin. Her sexual relief came from a large silicone vibrator with detachable heads and varying speeds, for, as the brochure put it, climactic joy. Bobby, as she liked to call her night time friend, always came with her on her frequent business trips. Along with her personal assistant Jasper.
“Bobby's cheaper than hiring one of the locals. You never know where they have been.” A favorite quote to Jasper, who was himself an enthusiastic hirer of locals, both male and female.
Audrey Augusts St John was a driven woman. Driven mainly by an anger, that saw her feckless half-wit of a brother inherit the family fortune, whilst she got nothing but a lonely childhood and a second rate education. She never went to the Swiss finishing school Rodney thought he'd paid for, instead she diverted the money into her own bank account and started The Audrey St John PR Agency. Hard work, long hours and an uncanny knack for knowing who to bribe and who was a good candidate for blackmail had made her the most successful and sort after publicist between London and New York.
Her ruthless business practices won her no friends and plenty of enemies, none of which she gave a rat's fart about. She was going to pull off the biggest deal of her business life. Olek Dmitri Pullemov, billionaire oligarch was about to sign an exclusive contract with her agency to publicize his recently bought shipping and airline company.
His wife Olga, the real money and power behind the Pullemov throne, held deep seated opinions on everything, mainly upholding high sexual moral values, and her total revulsion of anything to do with homosexuality. She kept a close watch on her husband's fidelity, with good reason. Olek preferred his women 30 years younger and at least 5 stone lighter. He also had a hankering for South Asian women.
But above all of that, the one thing that really pushed Olga's buttons, was her sycophantic love for the British aristocracy. One week-end stay at Rawlings Hall, and Audrey was sure Olek would be told to sign on the dotted line. She put down the telephone with the satisfaction that her useless over privileged brother, would at last have a reason for his existence. One week-end of aristocratic fawning, and Olek's multi million dollars, would soon be winging their way into her Swiss bank account.
$ $ $ $
“The Chinese suite. She wants the Chinese suite. She can't have the bloody Chinese suite, it's now the S & M and bondage love cage.” Rodney sat slumped in his office chair, his foot resting on his desk with a bag of frozen peas across his ankle to help get the swelling down.
“I don't see how you can stop her.”
Rodney didn't like Giles's tone at all. If he hadn't known better he'd have thought Giles was enjoying this disastrous turn of events.
“There must be some way we can stop her.” He whined knowing full well there wasn't.
The codicil on his parents will, stated quite clearly, he got everything if he looked after his sister and that included her right to visit the family home whenever she wanted to. Break the codicil, and everything became Audrey's, and as the estate had technically paid for his racehorse and Jaguar sports car, she got those too.
As Rodney mused this over, it occurred to him that the will didn't say anything about what state the house should be in when she got there. As far as he was concerned she and her uninvited guests could take Rawlings Hall as they found it. And screw her, which was very likely to happen as the week-end was booked for a ladies school reunion and he'd laid on extra consorts. Fortunately as the S & M and bondage love cage hadn't been required, her Russians could have it. Audrey could have Giles's room and Jasper, whoever he was, could sleep in the attic. Giles would have to bunk with Jasper. Pleased with this exceptional ability for organization, he poured himself a large malt whiskey and settled down to read the racing papers, quickly falling into an untroubled sleep helped by a combination of whiskey and painkillers.
“All right you long stream of piss. What the fuck have you done to Rawlings?” Rodney awoke with a start.
“Pardon?” He winced.
“I said you turd stuck to a dog's arse - what have you done to the Chinese suite and my family home? I have Olek and Olga Pullemov coming here in less than an hour and they are expecting to see an aristocratic country house not a sodding brothel.”
“Err.” As his senses parted he realized a tall woman, with a mass of blonde hair was leaning too close to his face shouting at him.
It took him a moment or two before he recognized his sister, “You've changed your hair color. Suits you.”
“Don't sidestep the issue. What is going on?” On the few occasions Rodney and Audrey had met it was never longer that a simple hello as they bypassed each other on the way to somewhere. He didn't need to know the woman standing in-front of him that well, to see she was spitting dummies at him. Where the fuck was Giles, when he wanted him.
Thinking on his one good foot, Rodney replied, “I think I've improved the old place, giving it a more modem aspect.”
The rapidly moving twitch she seemed to have developed told him she wasn't buying it.
She cut him sort, “I'll tell you what you have done. You useless excuse for a human being. You – have just lost me several million pounds. And if you think I am going to take that lying down you are very much mistaken.”
He was about to point out that the act of lying down was actually making him lot of money when the door crashed open and Carlo stormed into Rodney's study.
“I won't work under these circumstances. I am an artiste. When I screw the ladies they know they've been screwed. My foreplay is a legend across 4 counties.” Carlo stood crossed arms waiting for a reaction.
“And – yes. What in god's name are a dozen or so semi-naked men doing running around the house with their pricks hanging out?” Audrey pointed at Carlo, whose not insubstantial penis was jutting out from his patent leather dick pouch, fully erect from the Viagra pill he'd not long taken.
“I – madam.” Carlo pulled himself up to his full stature of 5 foot 4, he hadn't been hired for his height, “Am – not responsible for the fat Russian woman fainting. If I had known she didn't want me to pull off her panties I wouldn't have. I am a professional, and if anyone wants my professional cock, and I expect they will, I shall be in the hot-tub.” Mustering all his dignity, he strode back into the hallway, wiggling his bare arse as he walked.
Audrey's twitch made in down the side of her face, all the way to her upper lip, “You - remove that bag of frozen vegetables from your ankle and limp behind me.”
The door to the Chinese suite was open and Olga Pullemov was lying unconscious across the heart shaped king-sized bed. Her husband was kneeling over her, smacking her across the face and shouting something, Rodney assumed by the man's tone, was, “Wake up you stupid bitch.”
He stopped for a second as she groaned slightly, then went back to whacking with his original enthusiasm.
“I say old boy.” Rodney intervened, clutching hold of Olek's hand before he had a chance of another thwack, “I think this is how it's done.”
Limping across to the bathroom Rodney returned with a wet cloth in his hand, laying it across Olga's bright red cheeks he soothed, “There, there dear lady. Nothing to worry about just a bit of a misunderstanding.”
Her groan became a hmm. Opening insipid blues eyes she peered up into Rodney's concerned expression, softly uttered, “Is that you my lord.” In better English than either Rodney or Audrey were expecting.
“Absolutely dear lady. Let me introduce myself, Lord Rodney Augusts St John, Earl of Rawlings. I believe you know my sister the countess.” In for a penny – in for a pound, Rodney thought as he pulled Olga into a sitting position.
The smile spreading across Audrey's wide mouth and her non twitching facial muscles said he'd been forgiven. They both knew he'd always been a convincing liar.
“My lord there was a very strange man in the room. He tried to touch my private parts.”
“Take no notice dear lady. I am afraid, cousin Rupert is a cross we Augusts St John's have to bare. Inbreeding has taken a terrible toll on the family. It is such a pity that you have come to Rawlings at the time of our annual family get together.”
Olga's cupid bow lips mouthed, “Your family? The house is going to be full of aristocrats?”
“Just the important ones, dear lady.”
“Oh my. I am spending the week-end with royalty.” With that Olga slid out from Rodney's grasp and back into unconsciousness.
They left Olga to sleep off her second faint, quietly removing from the room, all the whips, face clamps, studded high heeled boots etc.
Seizing this unexpected opportunity of freedom from his wife's very vigilant watch, Olek, went in search of the almond eyed, olive skinned, beauty he saw carrying a serving tray of full champagne glasses.
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The characters in this short novella are not based on any real person and are purely fictional from the author's furtive imagination.
I hope you enjoyed this 4th chapter in my naughty novella - coming soon.
Chapter 5 – The Naked Oligarch Uncoupling.
Josephine Sanchez Vanner
Half Blood – Turning the Pages Magazine, 2013 Adventure Book of the Year & 2013 Paranormal Book of the year.
Award winning novel about alien vampires from a distant galaxy, who are the good guys.
The Warlock's Woman. A beautiful psychic, an evil warlock and a sexy ghost. A love triangle with an unexpected twist at the end.
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