Chapter 13: A Visit With Marianne

Friday dawned dark, gloomy and rainy, the kind of day I wished I could pull the covers over my head and go back to sleep, but remembering my appointment this evening, I instead reluctantly got up and stepped into the shower. The hot stinging spray quickly cleared my mind and I began ticking off all the things I needed to accomplish before Marianne's driver arrived at six o'clock.

After drying off and slipping into my robe I called Room Service and asked for Bridget. She picked up almost immediately saying, "Good morning Alex. Is it just the two of us for breakfast this morning or do you have the whole merry band with you again this morning?"

"Nope, just the two of us this morning Bridget. At the moment at least, but with friends like ours one can never be sure," I chuckled.

"OK, I'll check with Lynne and Ellen before I start up. I don't want to make any more trips than necessary. See you in a few moments, luv," she said before hanging up.

As I waited for Bridget to arrive I dialed the Castle and asked for Marianne. When she came on the line and we had exchanged the usual pleasantries I asked, "Is our meeting still on for this evening?"

"Certainly my dear, I've been looking forward to it. In fact I was planning to call you a little later to make sure you hadn't forgotten. The Bentley will be there at six, don't be late." After a bit more small talk, I heard a light tap on the door so I excused myself before hanging up, and then answered the door.

Bridget pushed her serving cart into the lounge, followed closely by an excited, wide awake, Lynne and a sleepy eyed, yawning Ellen, still in her robe and slippers.

"Damn, this woman wakes up before the milkman. She was up banging about before dawn again," Ellen grumped. Lynne cuffed the back of Ellen's tousled head and jokingly said, "Mind your manners young lady or no breakfast for you!"

Bridget, trying her best to pour our coffee, remarked, "No fighting children, or neither of you will get fed!" Ellen and Lynne, the former considerably Bridget's senior and the latter old enough to be her mother, quickly found seats, neither looking particularly contrite.

To Ellen I said, "You, Richard and myself will probably be inspecting a facility fairly soon. Once we agree on a location we'll have to be ready to start moving our current staff and records, as well as staffing up the new positions we've already identified. So let's stay loose. Don't make any plans that can't be postponed, at least not for the next few weeks. OK?"

Ellen, her mouth full of food, her coffee cup halfway to her mouth, nodded her head affirmatively. Richard, who had breezed in just in time to catch the tail end of Bridget's chastisement of Ellen and Lynne, also nodded saying, "I think I may have located the perfect site. I need to look into a few legal details first, but if everything checks out we should be able to do a walk-through inspection sometime tomorrow.

We finished our meal and my uninvited guests departed on their separate missions. I helped Bridget clean up the mess and repack the service cart. Saying, 'If I don't see you again before you leave this evening, have a good time," she pushed the serving cart into the hall. I thanked her and closed the door.

Alone again, I quickly dressed and left on a shopping mission. For some reason, shopping always improves my mood. After buying several new bra and panty sets, I found myself in the dress department where I found a lovely little black number; all skirt with a miniscule top and a matching jacket. The skirt fell in voluptuous folds to the tops of my feet while the bodice, gathered at the shoulders to form what amounted to the equivalent of two-inch wide straps, formed a V in the front whose apex was positioned approximately over my navel. It would, of necessity, have to be worn without a bra, leaving the sides of my small, pert breasts clearly visible. The waist length bolero style jacket was, of course, a necessary accessory as it would be unseemly to wear this dress without it, at least in most social settings.

Glancing at my watch, I saw that it was already after two o'clock and I hadn't eaten lunch yet, so I caught a cab back to my hotel, dropped off my purchases, and then went down the street to the local pub for a sandwich. Scanning the menu and seeing little I recognized, I asked the barman what he would recommend. He replied that their Bacon Butty sandwiches were especially good today and that I might like to try one, which I did. Despite its odd name, I found it quite delicious, especially when washed down with a glass of Guinness. The barkeep looked at me rather oddly but I ignored him.

Returning to my room, I again showered, and feeling a little tired, lay down to rest for a moment. When I awoke I was shocked to find it was after five o'clock. Leaping out of bed, I brushed out my 'bed hair' and slipped on a new pair of black bikini panties, donned my new black dress, along with a pair of black suede sandals and shrugged into the tight jacket. Slipping my garnet Castle ring onto my finger, I caught the lift down to the lobby just in time to see a shiny black Bentley roll silently up to the main entrance. My timing was impeccable.

As I started for the door the same liveried driver exited the car and politely opened the lobby door for me. He then stepped to the car door, and opening it, handed me graciously into the rear seat. Closing the door quietly behind me, he returned to the drivers seat and the Bentley purred quietly out of the drive, merging smoothly into the rush hour traffic. All this without uttering a word; I found it almost spooky.

I sat quietly, watching as the traffic gradually thinned until we were at last gliding through the peaceful green countryside. The trip passed uneventfully and before I knew it the driver was turning into the lane that led to the Castle. As we pulled up to the main entrance, the driver at last broke his silence, saying, "Here we are, Ms. Alex." He stepped out of the car and opened the rear door, offering me a steadying hand as I stepped out onto the concrete. "Just go on in and Ms. Marianne will join you shortly."

As I approached the entrance, Marianne, dressed in a long formal black skirt, white high-necked silk blouse, and a short burgundy form-fitting jacket, pushed the door open, and with a welcoming smile, ushered me inside.

"It's so good to see you again my dear," she said, hugging me warmly. Guiding me into her office, she added, "I've still got one little matter to take care of, so just make your self comfortable and I'll be right back. Help yourself to a drink," she added, indicating a portable bar at the far end of the room.

After she left, I poured myself a small glass of Sherry and relaxed in a comfortable club chair facing a gas log burning in the fireplace. This is quite an office, I thought, actually noticing its appointments for the first time. The only other time I'd been here I was far too nervous to notice much of anything.

Other than the desk and computer station it looked to be more a den than a place of business. I smiled as I wondered what Bill might think if, on his upcoming visit, he found I had provided myself with an office as homey as this. I decided it was something well worth considering, maybe it would soften my 'Iron Ass' image somewhat.

Marianne soon returned, accompanied by her sister, Jody. After Jody and I exchanged the obligatory greetings, Marianne said, "Well Alex, now that my little problem is resolved, shall we retire to my suite? Jody, you're in charge for the rest of the evening. Call me if you need anything, but only if it's important." Then, placing her hand on my back, guided me from the office toward the bank of lifts where she inserted a key card into a slot and pressed an unmarked button.

As the cab silently rose to what I suspected was the top floor, Marianne said, "It was so nice of you to accept my invitation, dear. I've been looking forward to this evening ever since you left the other night."

"Think nothing of it," I responded with a smile, "Although I've been wondering why you invited me." At that point, the lift eased to a stop and the doors slid open soundlessly.

"Actually, you impressed me greatly by your reactions before, during and after your initiation. I just wanted a chance to get to know you better, Alex," she said, as we stepped out of the lift, directly into a tastefully furnished sitting room. "Please take a seat while I freshen up a bit, it will only take a minute," she continued, guiding me to an oversized sofa facing the crackling fire laid in a massive stone fireplace.

As she left, I settled into the soft cushions of the sofa and surveyed my surroundings. Bracketing the fireplace were two high windows covered by heavy velvet drapes and above the mantle, looking slightly out of place, was mounted a large flat-screen HDTV monitor, currently displaying a view of the dining room. It was nearly half full of early diners, but as I saw no one I recognized I soon lost interest. Noting a remote control laying on an end table, I picked it up, and aiming it at the screen, pressed a button marked "+". The scene on the screen shifted to an unoccupied bedroom containing its own fireplace, the gas log unlit. Continuing to press the button, the scenes scrolled through a series of empty rooms, the darkened auditorium, the front desk area, and several exterior views before returning to the dining room.

"Ah, I see you've found my latest plaything... compliments of Kevin," Marianne said, returning from wherever she'd been.

Blushing like a school girl caught masturbating in the girls washroom, I quickly returned the remote to its place on the table, saying "Sorry, it's a bad habit of mine... curiosity, I mean."

"No need to apologize my dear," she laughed. "Curiosity can sometimes result in finding unsuspected treasures. By the way, have you eaten yet?"

"No" I admitted somewhat sheepishly. "I laid down for just a little rest about three o'clock and nearly overslept. I just had time to get dressed and make my way downstairs before your driver arrived."

"I know how that feels," Marianne laughed, picking up a menu from the sideboard and handing it to me. "Select anything you'd like and we'll dine up here. I haven't had a chance to eat yet myself. Too busy meeting and greeting."

Scanning the proffered menu, I selected a rare Porterhouse, baked potato with sour cream, and steamed broccoli with a side salad. Marianne called in our orders then sat down on the sofa beside me.

"By the way, I received a strange phone call from Richard yesterday morning asking about any of our members who were currently employed by Prescott and Adams. He said it had something to do with Lynne and some problem or other. He was going to get back to me with a more thorough explanation later but he hasn't as yet. Can you throw any light on that subject?"

"Yes, it seems that Lynne's husband works for Prescott and Adams in the States and has a chance to transfer to the London branch. He'd called and asked her if she would like to live here in England on a long-term basis. Of course he doesn't know anything about her activities with Ellen, Richard and myself and certainly is unaware of your club."

I went on to explain how she had been conflicted, but that Richard had come up with a plan to engage in a conspiracy designed to compromise her husband by getting him involved with the Castle, while Ellen hid Lynne out in Scotland for a week or two.

Marianne burst into uncontrollable laughter. When she had laughed herself out, she sat up wiping her eyes. "Oh my God, that man can come up with the most harebrained, convoluted schemes. Do you actually think it will work?" she asked.

"I don't know, but it was the best we could come up with on the spur of the moment. At least it cheered Lynne up... and if you'll go along with it, I think it might stand a chance. She's already called her husband and told him to take the position. He'll arrive here in about two weeks," I replied.

"All right, have Richard call me with the details and if it's not illegal, immoral or fattening I'll play along with it. Well, on second thought, I don't see how it could be fattening, and morality is a highly subjective concept, so as long as it's not blatantly illegal, count me in," she giggled before once again shaking with laughter. Once she again regained her composure she said in a more serious voice, "You know, for all his crazy schemes, Richard somehow manages to pull off most of them!"

About that time the elevator doors slid open and a young man in a crisp white jacket entered pushing a service cart laden with food. "Wheel it on into the dining room, if you would William," she said. I followed them and we both helped him move the food to the table.

As he turned to leave Marianne said, "Thank you William," to the lad, slipping him a five-pound note. The boy's eyes widened and his face reddened as he accepted the unexpectedly large tip, shoving it deep into his pocket. "Thank you, Ma'am," he whispered shyly as he quickly turned and left.

Finding that we were both quite hungry and that the food smelled delicious, we ate in silence, savoring our meals. As I scraped the last bit of food from my plate, Marianne laid down her silverware and announced she couldn't eat another bite. Moving to the sideboard she poured two large glass of wine, and handing one to me, then suggested we retire to the living room. Before we sat down she said, "It's getting a little warm in here," removing her jacket and hanging it in a closet.

I agreed it was indeed warming up so I also removed my own jacket, hanging it next to hers. As I turned back to her she said, "I love your dress darling. It really does show you off well."

Looking down, I saw what she meant. My firm high breasts were nearly exposed by the plunging 'V' of its neckline, the sides barely covering my erect nipples. Oh well, it's only us girls, I thought.

While I had been divesting myself of my jacket, Marianne had seated herself on the sofa, facing the fire. Patting the cushion beside her she said, "Sit down and let's see if there's anything on TV yet." I wasn't sure what she meant, after all the monitor seemed to be connected only to the house security surveillance system, but I moved over to the sofa and sat down cautiously, taking care not to spill my wine.

The monitor was still displaying the view of the dining room and I noticed business was picking up. The room was over three quarters full now and more guests were entering even as we watched. As I scanned the room looking for someone I knew I saw several that looked familiar but I didn't know their names.

Suddenly, I noticed General Donaldson sitting at a rear corner table talking animatedly to another gentleman who watched Buzz intently as Buzz held his hands out in front of him, moving his arms about rapidly while keeping his left hand in the same relative position with his right. His companion, a little younger than Buzz but obviously cut from the same cloth, was tall and ruggedly built. His chest seemed to be trying to burst free from the constraints of his obviously unaccustomed suit jacket. His eyes were also like Buzz's, like a bird of prey searching the horizon, only at the moment they were concentrating on the rapid movements of Buzz's hands as they flailed about in the air between them.

"Who is the gentleman seated at Buzz's table?" I asked.

Marianne noticed where I was looking and commented, "Oh, I see Buzz is holding court again! That's RAF Wing Commander James Ellison; I believe he's the Pilot Flight Training Officer at the base where Buzz is working at the moment. Something about air-to-air fighter combat tactics I believe he said. Buzz is supposed to be expert in that area I hear."

"Ummm... he looks like a hunk," I grinned.

"Well, I have no first hand experience, but word is that he's damn good," she chuckled.

We watched a few more seconds before Marianne picked up the control and changed it to show the first of the empty bedrooms. "The next few scenes are of our "Privacy Rooms" where our guests can relax and enjoy themselves," she explained.

"Isn't 'Privacy' a misnomer in this case, Marianne, considering that they're being monitored by TV?" I chuckled.

"I suppose it is actually, but we must protect ourselves against the possibility of law suits as well," she said. "All of the tapes are reviewed daily, then stored in our vault for ninety days. If no complaints are received during that period, the tapes are then removed, erased and reused. That protects everyone," she said, flipping to the next camera. "It's early yet, so I doubt that any of the rooms are in use at the moment."

Just as she was about to move on, we noticed the privacy room's door swing open and a couple entered. The man, about 35, was of medium height and sturdily built. His companion was much younger, in her late teens or early twenties and appeared somewhat pudgy... not really fat, but certainly well fed.

"Well now, what do we have here?" Marianne remarked.

Not sure what she meant by that, I asked, "Why, is something wrong?"

"Not exactly wrong," she replied, "Just highly surprising. He's an over-the-hill local sports hero, rugby or soccer I think. His name is Jason Willingham. It's the young lady that surprises me. That's the local Vicar's daughter!"

"Oh My," I chuckled as the man turned and locked the door before pulling the young girl into his arms, kissing her passionately.

Marianne picked up a phone, dialed a three-digit number and said, "Jody, was Reverend Billingsly's daughter's age verified when she arrived?" she asked. There was a short pause, and then she said, "Thank you, that's all I need to know for now," and hung up.

Turning back to me she explained, "We require proof of age of all guests who even look as though they might be under age, but she showed proof that she's nineteen. If not, I'd have had to call security and put a stop to this, but as it stands, let's just sit back and enjoy the show," she said, placing her arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer to her.

As I rested my head on her shoulder, I looked back at the screen and noticed that while the man was exploring the vicar's daughter's mouth with his darting tongue, his fingers were adroitly undoing the buttons that ran down the back of her red party dress. When he had finished, her dress gaped open in the back, from her neck to just above her generous buttocks.

His lips still locked to hers, he slipped the dress off her shoulders and she lowered her arms, allowing the garment to slide down her body and flutter to the floor. She was now clothed only in a practical Marks & Spenser white cotton bra and the waist-high white cotton panties one would expect of a vicar's daughter. As the girl reached down to the man's crotch and unzipped his fly, I felt Marianne's warm hand slide into the bodice of my dress and lazily caress my breast.

Turning my attention back to the screen, I saw that the girl had dropped to her knees and pulled his cock out through his open fly, her lips and tongue kissing and licking the man's thick cock, one hand squeezing his shaft the other cupping his hairy balls. As we watched, the man grasped her head in his hands and guided her mouth to his bulbous purple cockhead. As she placed her lips around it, he slowly lifted his hips, forcing himself deep into her hot, eager mouth. I could see her pink tongue flicking in and out, stimulating the underside of his shaft as he stood, feet spread, head thrown back, eyes closed, sliding his cock slowly in and out of her sucking mouth.

My breast was tingling under the tender caress of Marianne's warm hand. It's nipple, now stiffly erect, sent flashes of pleasant sensation through my stomach and groin as she rolled it idly between her fingertips, occasionally tugging on it and lightly scraping it with her nails. Feeling the need to reciprocate, I placed my hand on her knee and idly slid it slowly upward along the inner side of her thigh.

Apparently feeling somewhat restricted by our overabundance of clothing, Marianne suggested that we get more comfortable. Pulling away from me, she kicked out of her shoes and pulled her dress off over her head, draping it casually over the back of a nearby club chair. I followed her example, dropping my dress and removing my shoes. As I was disrobing, Marianne dimmed the room lights and, with the press of a button, converted the sofa into a daybed.

Crawling up onto it, she rested her back against the seatback-cum-headboard and stretched her long, shapely legs out in front of her, motioning me to join her. We lay there, both clothed only in tiny silk bikini panties, mine a rich jet black, hers bright electric blue, and watched the drama unfolding on the screen before us.

Jason had urged the girl to her feet and divested himself of his remaining clothing. They were now standing near the side of the bed in another passionate embrace, his tongue buried deep in her mouth, his hands rubbing and massaging her large, firm buttocks. I noticed that she had performed well; his cock was now seven inches of hard, throbbing muscle, its head a deep reddish purple color. I could see the light reflecting off the residue of saliva still coating its length. His pendulous ball sack was also shining wetly in the lamplight.

"Lord," Marianne chuckled, "Either she's a fast learner or she's more experienced than I suspected. Just look at the state she's gotten him into!"

"I know," I replied, "It's sort of gotten to me as well." Having said that, I leaned over and gently covered her right nipple with my mouth. I sucked it in, flicking it rapidly with my tongue and nipping it gently with my teeth. I was rewarded by her sharp intake of breath, accompanied by a soft moan of pleasure.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Jason urging the girl back until her legs were pressed against the edge of the bed. Not wishing to miss anything, I released Marianne's throbbing nipple and sat up. She made a little sound of complaint, but then noticed the events unfolding on the screen and relaxed, watching intently as Jason pushed the willing young lady down into a sitting position, then eased her back until she was lying flat on her back, her feet still resting on the floor.

Grasping the waistband of her cotton panties, he rolled them down over her hips, which she obligingly lifted slightly, allowing him to slip them down over her legs, and then raised her feet as he pulled the panties free. Still kneeling before her, he then placed both palms on the inner sides of her knees, pushing them slowly apart. He slid his hands up her plump young thighs, forcing them open until they were spread to their maximum. We could now see her pussy for the first time. Although her bush grew thickly on her mound, the hair between her thighs was sparse, nearly nonexistent. Her plump, clearly visible, pussy lips were flushed a bright pink with her sexual arousal and the slit between them glistened with her moisture.

I had been so engrossed with the scene playing out on the screen I hadn't noticed that Marianne had slid down my body and now had her head resting on my stomach. She hooked her fingers into the top of my panties and pulled them down past my flexed knees saying, "You don't want to get these wet. You have to ride back to London in them later." I kicked them off to the side then noticed for the first time that her blue panties were also missing; her dark auburn, neatly trimmed pelt glinted in flickering fire light.