Chapter 2

The Colonel and the Brigadier, fortified by a good lunch, were deep in conversation in the lounge of the Conservative Club discussing the ways in which the village’s available female pulchritude might best be unveiled and exhibited both for the greater good of the community and also, and very importantly, their own perverse gratification.

They agreed that the amiable and willing Dorothy should be allowed to be displayed as the “Spotted Lady” once again and further that she should be asked if she would mind foregoing the shelter of a tent this time. (Last year she had had the comfort of an oil heater under the platform to keep the unseasonable cold at bay.)

The Brigadier was even more delighted at this suggestion, to which he gave his immediate agreement. Now there would be at least three delightfully shivering young females for him to fantasies about! Never mind if the third was not a great facial beauty, she had a very impressive body – strong, well made and capable of reducing the strongest village stud to a state of pleasurable exhaustion, as his friend, the Colonel, had good reason to know!

The discussion resumed.

“We can’t just have them standing there as some kind of tableau vivant. Don’t want the dear girls catching their death of cold and it would soon become boring,” said the Colonel. “A kind of dance routine would be a good idea, at least for Beatrice – lovely sinuous body that girl! Maybe we could have a guy playing a flute or reed pipe or something – sort of snake charmer act with Beatrice as the deadly charmed serpent! That would take care of her. How would Julia fancy a bit of bondage – what would you say to that ... chains and ropes ... maybe staked out on the ground, spread-eagled?”

The angry scarlet flush that came over the Brigadier’s face caused the Colonel to sigh inwardly and backtrack hastily. The two continued to cogitate for some time. Finally the Colonel spoke.

“It really is frightfully good of you to agree to this you know – I only wish my daughter Rosie could participate, but Bessie wouldn’t hear of it, I’m afraid, and I’m in enough hot water with her as it is, damn it.”

The Brigadier tried to hide his amusement at this reference to the Colonel’s disgrace – a disgrace that would (so he hoped) allow him to replace the said Colonel at the next elections, due in May a week or two after the fete. As for the lovely Rosie appearing in a state of undress, well, that would be too much to hope for; he could see that. Bessie, the Colonel’s lady, was famously strait-laced and nobody could understand why she had ever married such a serial and tireless philanderer in the first place – or why she had not divorced him long before.

“I saw a film many years ago, starring the late Elvis Presley, whom you may remember was a noted warbler and darling of the great unwashed of his day,” said the Colonel. “It was called ‘Roustabout’ as I remember. In one scene, at a carnival, a young lady was placed on a platform above a tank of water and underneath the platform was some kind of lever mechanism whereby the platform was kept in place. A well-aimed shot at this mechanism would cause the platform to collapse and send the young lady dropping into the tank of icy cold water.”

The Brigadier’s eyes gleamed at the thought of his nubile young relatives and any other of the village maidens soaked and shivering as they descended time and again into a tank of freezing cold water! Oh - bliss! Then he remembered the spirited nature of these very formidable young ladies, his nieces, and thought again. They would never submit to such an indignity and he would never dare suggest it to them. Perhaps one or more of the other village girls might be persuaded to take part. It was agreed to canvass opinion forthwith.

The two further agreed that Julia should be asked to put on some kind of gymnastic display. This would help to keep her warm if the weather took a turn for the worse on the big day and both men had seen lady gymnasts in the past and realized that this particular young lady’s charms, as well as her skill, would be shown off to excellent effect. The regretful Brigadier declined to ask his niece to put on a display of unarmed combat and challenge all comers. He knew full well that the disdainful young girl would never in any circumstances submit to having her nude body touched by the local peasantry, even if she did thereby get the chance to humiliate them.

A few brandies and soda later and the retired military men had tired of the topic of the fete and descended into a series of reminiscences of campaigns and military glories of long ago. Before leaving, the Colonel assured the Brigadier that he would get his fellow Counsellors to co-opt him onto a special committee to finalize the arrangements for what both men hoped would be a memorable day.

Meanwhile, the two putative star turns were on their way to London and a meeting with their current beaux. On the phone the day before they had explained to the amused pair, the ordeal to which they had somewhat reluctantly submitted themselves and instructed them both to put on their thinking caps.

“Think of something good for us to do, you two, or you’re both history as far as we’re concerned,” an implacable Julia had instructed the ever faithful and besotted Giles.

The two boys, Piers Willoughby-Vane-Fanshaw and the Hon. Giles Grey were desperately trying to cudgel their brains as the two girls sped towards them. They didn’t want to lose these lovely young things so soon after first screwing them; and necessity is the mother of invention. Surely to Goodness, they would come up with something.

“Darling Julia,” Giles smoothed the hair back from his beloved’s forehead and kissed it lightly, before drawing back and looking fondly at the vision beside him, at the sweet face and the long golden locks spread over the pillow. How he yearned to earn the right to look on this heavenly sight every morning for the rest of his life!

“Darling Giles,” Julia alternately tightened and loosened her grip on Giles’s penis, feeling it harden under her sweet and increasingly violent stimulation. He really was such a sweet boy, and very well-connected, the heir to an ancient Barony. Yes! He would do very nicely as a future mate!

After Giles’s seed had safely been deposited, the conversation turned to the subject of the Fete, to his disquiet. He had only come up with one idea and was uncertain whether or not to raise it.

Finally, he plucked up enough courage.

“What about a knife-throwing act, Julia? They always use a beautiful young lady for that kind of thing and they don’t come any more beautiful than you!”

“You must be mad, darling. Quite raving mad! I doubt there’s anyone in that village could throw a knife with that kind of skill and I don’t fancy becoming a human pincushion! I still love you, so don’t think I’m about to drop you, darling,

but that idea gets the thumbs down without a shadow of doubt.”

Giles smiled tolerantly. “No, I don’t suggest just any alcoholic village idiot with the shakes, my sweet. I love you too much for that! I know a guy who would turn up for an hour or so and he’s an ace – literally never misses. Come and see for yourself later on before you go back to the Hall. All it would take would be strong nerves on your part as you’d have to stand absolutely still.”

“We’ll think about it, darling. There’ll be a few jealous cows hoping he misses, or rather that he doesn’t miss. And a few disappointed and resentful young men who wish me no particular good.”

“You’re too stuck-up, my love. That’s your trouble. I know you come from out of the top drawer and all that, like me, but people don’t like having their noses rubbed in it. They don’t like the way you flaunt yourself with your nose in the air. You could find that pride comes before a rather nasty fall, if you aren’t careful, and I’d hate to see that!”

“I know all that! I’ll take my chances, Giles darling. I doubt if any of that bunch of dough-headed morons will ever get the drop on me! I can look after myself, as they would find out pretty soon! And what if I am proud? I’ve a hell of a lot to be proud about and most of those peasants have bugger all!”

Giles allowed this to pass. He was a few years older than Julia - a little wiser and more tolerant. He knew she would learn in time and just hoped it would not be too painful for her. He loved her more deeply every time he looked at her and every

time, he thought about her. The prospect of any kind of humiliation visiting her frightened him a great deal. He would do anything to protect her from that.

It was half-past six in the morning. A nude Julia and Beatrice, newly returned from London, had just finished swimming in their uncle’s outdoor pool and were walking hand in hand down towards the wood where they intended to spend a couple of hours alone and naked together. This served two purposes. They always liked to be together in the altogether and they knew that a bit of continuing practice in sustained outdoor nudity before the fete would be no bad thing for them. The warm weather had continued for the week since they had agreed to take such a public and exposed role, but this was no guarantee that the big day would not be cold, wet and windy – it usually was.

Julia looked around and caught sight of light gleaming off the binoculars that the good Brigadier was keeping trained on them.

“Daft old pervert! The old goats still got his eyes on us. I wonder what the attraction is at his age?” said Julia.

“You’re never too old to be turned on by lovely girls especially when they’re

starkers like we are,” replied the wise Beatrice. “Mind you, I can’t help thinking there’s more than the mere sight of our flesh that appeals to him. I think he gets a kick out of seeing us being cold – just like we get a kick out of being cold together! This particular fetish must run in the family!”