Chapter 8: Bridgett's Kinky Secrets

Richard arrived at my hotel suite around seven, dressed informally in faded jeans, an open-necked white shirt under a lightweight, pale blue sweater and ox blood loafers. We hadn't discussed suitable attire for the evening during our previous phone conversation, so when I opened the door for him I felt more than a little foolish in my all-purpose little black dress with its mini-skirt and spaghetti straps... and the black fishnet hose weren't going to work either. Not a problem, however. We had at least an hour before we had to leave to meet with Kevin and Bridget at the pub.

"You didn't mention that this was to be a dress-down evening," I chided him."

"I'm sorry, but I thought you'd realize that fact when I told you we were meeting at a pub," he grinned.

I was not going to let him off this easily. "Richard, there's an old saying that the word 'assume' makes an ass out of 'u' and me. In the future, please don't assume anything," I answered with mock sternness, then grinned back at him.

For an instant a look of genuine distress flashed across Richard's face, but as soon as my delayed grin registered in his mind, he visibly relaxed.

"My God, Alex. For a minute there I thought you were living up to your nickname!"

"And what would that be, kind sir?"

"Why, Old Iron Ass, of course. But I never did believe that characterization, even for a second! First of all, you're not really all that that old, and secondly I know for a fact that your ass is soft as silk. More like velvet, actually," he laughed, pulling me into his arms, kissing me warmly as his hands caressed my suddenly controversial ass.

"Damn it, don't start anything now. I still have to change and we don't have time for that foolishness now," I grumbled in mock irritation, carefully not ruling out any 'foolishness' later.

With that, I headed for the bedroom to change into something slightly less formal. "Come along. You can act as my consultant in the proper choice of acceptable pub-crawling attire," I said. "While I'm changing, we can also discuss the extent of your participation in Bridget's little conspiracy this afternoon. As I understand it, you're now a gift consultant, in addition to your other native talents!"

"I just try to be of assistance whenever possible, my dear," he joked.

"Oh yes, just an eager little Boy Scout aren't you, always looking for good deeds to perform," I laughed.

In the bedroom, I rummaged through the bureau drawers, coming up with a pair of form-fitting stonewashed jeans and a white designer polo shirt. Then I glanced at Richard's choice of clothing and added a pair of white cotton socks, a pair of Reebok tennis shoes and finally a casual camelhair blazer.

I slipped my black dress off over my head, removed the fishnet hose and shimmied into the tight fitting jeans and polo shirt. Turning to Richard for his approval regarding my choices, I realized he wasn't paying attention to my clothing. Instead, he was staring at the still rumpled bed, a knowing grin on his face.

"Hmmm... No maid service this morning?" he asked innocently.

"Oh yes, as a matter of fact the maid service is excellent, and room service this afternoon was wasn't bad either... as if you didn't know," I replied.

"Of course I knew, I'm just feeling a little jealous that I wasn't here to join in. Bridget is a real handful, isn't she? By the way, how did you like her welcoming gift?"

"The gift was very thoughtful," I replied, before adding with a grin, "And the personal demonstration was even more so."

Richard laughed heartily, taking me in his arms and hugging me warmly. His lips sought mine as his hands caressed my back, and then slid slowly down to cup my denim-clad buttocks, massaging them gently.

I returned his kiss; tracing his lips with my tongue, then sliding it between them into his warm, waiting mouth. As our tongues intertwined, I felt his cock, now pressed tightly against my stomach, starting to react. Breaking the kiss and attempting to ignore the tingling of my nipples and the warmth I felt slowly spreading through me, I whispered in his ear, "No time for that now Dickey... Later." He hugged me tighter for just a second, then reluctantly released me and returned to the living room.

I quickly donned the socks and shoes, shrugged into the blazer and rejoined Richard in the lounge, where I found him pouring two glasses of wine. Handing me one glass, he raised the other and offered a toast.

"Here's to the future... and a long, enjoyable and profitable career on our enchanted little isle," he said, smiling at me.

"Well, based upon the conversation I had with Bill Sherman this afternoon, I'm sure we both will have long, enjoyable and, hopefully, extremely profitable careers... If I can manage to handle all the details involved in setting up the new company in a timely manner, that is," I grinned. As we sipped our wine, I told him about my earlier conversation with Bill and his authorization for me to hire staff and acquire a suitable facility.

"Right then," Richard said, his tone now serious. "First thing in the morning let's get together and develop a plan of action. If you wish, I'll handle setting up the financial end and start trying to locate suitable property. Once Ellen arrives, she can handle the personnel procurement, but first things first. We'd better get cracking if we're going to meet Kevin and Bridget before nine. The traffic in London is terrible at this time of evening!"

Despite Richard's concern about the traffic, we arrived at the Black Friar, a narrow wedge-shaped building on Queen Victoria Street, shortly after eight-thirty. We were led through a low arched passageway to a small, intimate bar area, where we found Bridget already seated in an upholstered booth with a large handsome young man, both nursing mugs of warm dark ale. Seeing our approach, she quickly slid out of the booth and hugged me enthusiastically, then introduced me to her husband Kevin, her athletic looking companion, apparently about my own age.

He also rose and shook my hand as Bridget introduced us, his grip strong but slightly restrained, as though conveying controlled strength. Leaning toward me, he kissed me lightly on the cheek, saying, "Welcome to England, Alex. You look nearly as lovely as you did on stage at the Castle... and you were a knock-out there!" I blushed slightly in spite of myself, as I suddenly remembered that he had been in the audience during my initiation ceremony.

With the introductions out of the way, we all settled into the booth, studying the menus. "What would you recommend, Richard?" I asked, assuming that he ate here regularly.

"I really don't know, Alex," he replied with a smile. "This is the first time I've been here in ages. However, if I remember correctly, you can't go wrong with the fish and chips."

That sounded good to me and we wound up ordering four orders of fish and chips, along with mugs of Guinness all around. While waiting for our food to arrive, I had a chance to become acquainted with Kevin, and to a lesser extent, Bridget.

"So Kevin, I understand from Bridget that you both were present at my initiation. Tell me, how well do you think I handled it?"

Kevin grinned at me and replied, "My god Alex, that's a really loaded question. But avoiding the obvious double entendre, you reacted much better than anyone else I've ever seen, including Bridget. Damn, Marianne really threw the works at you. Do you realize that you were on stage for at least an hour?"

"No, I had no idea it lasted that long, but then I had too much on my mind to concentrate on what time it was," I chuckled.

"I'll bet you did," he laughed, "But that's about all you had on! By the way, what did you think of Bridget's little welcoming present?"

'God, everyone at the table knows about that damned Magic Dildo', I thought to myself, but aloud I said, "It's wonderful. I understand that you are responsible for its design modifications. Quite ingenious of you, I'm really impressed."

"Well, thank you very much, but if you think that was ingenious, wait until you see what Bridget has hidden away at home," he laughed.

Bridget slugged him in the arm and exclaimed, "You're really terrible, Kevin!" I noticed she was blushing furiously, her face turning a bright shade of crimson.

"What's the matter, Bridget? Is Kevin telling tales out of school?" I asked her, grinning ear to ear.

"No, not really. It's just not something I feel comfortable discussing in public. But since he brought it up, why don't you both drop by our house after we eat and I'll show you what he's talking about," she replied, her face still flushed.

The waiter delivering our meals interrupted us. It looked quite tasty but I was disappointed because the fish and chips were served on platters, instead of being wrapped in yesterday's newspaper and soaked in vinegar as I had expected. When I voiced my disapproval to Richard, he looked at me solemnly and explained, as if to a very young child, that it was only served wrapped in newspaper in local take-away shops. In upscale restaurants, it was served on china.

"Well, excuse me, I didn't realize that. Next time, let's go to a take-away shop. I expect this experience to be like the movies and they always get their fish and chips wrapped in newspaper," I grumbled.

Regardless of the lack of newspaper, the meal proved to be excellent and we all fell silent as we tucked into the food. It was delicious, but I still thought it would have tasted better if it had been wrapped in newspaper!

Finally, the last plate was pushed back and I couldn't help but notice that every scrap of food had been devoured. We were all stuffed and for a moment we sat quietly looking at the plaques and pictures that lined the walls, without saying a word. At last Kevin broke the silence, saying, "I vote we all retire to our house for a glass or two of wine." Richard seconded the motion, while Bridget and I nodded our assent.

While the men were paying the bills for our meals, Bridget and I wandered out the front to wait for them on the sidewalk. As we waited, I asked Bridget what Kevin had meant earlier when he mentioned something about hiding something at home.

"It's much easier to show you than it is to explain," Bridget said, again blushing. "You'll see what I mean when we get there."

About that time, Kevin and Richard emerged from the pub and we made our way to the car park. As Richard and I climbed into the Range Rover he was driving tonight, I saw Kevin holding open the door of a gleaming new silver Jaguar XKR for Bridget. We allowed them to pull out of the car park first, then followed them closely as we crept through the heavy evening downtown traffic.

As we neared the suburbs the traffic became somewhat lighter and we soon entered an area of decidedly upscale property; large two and three-story houses, sprawling emerald green lawns landscaped with well trimmed shrubs, massive old trees and gated drives.

"Richard, are you sure Kevin and Bridget live in this area," I asked in a puzzled tone. "And that new silver Jag they're driving... You don't just pick up an XKR at Happy Harry's Used Car lot! Good Lord, she's working as a waitress in a hotel."

Richard chuckled at my confusion, and then said, "Yes, I'm sure they live in this area... just up the street as a matter of fact... and no, I can assure you they did not purchase that car at Happy Harry's. I would guess that particular Jaguar cost Kevin about $85,000 US a couple of months ago. And as for Bridget working as a hotel waitress, Kevin's aunt just acquired the food service concession at the hotel and Bridget is only helping her out there for a while until they can hire enough trained staff to get up and running. Any other questions I can help you with?"

"No, I think that's enough enlightenment for now," I replied tersely, then as an afterthought I added, "And don't be a wise ass, Dickey. In case you've forgotten, I sign your paycheck now!" As an second afterthought, I added, "Not that you need it, of course."

Richard shot me a sidelong glance, just to make sure I was smiling, before he chuckled and replied, "Right then. Just wanted to be sure you understood that Bridget's not exactly a common charlady and that they don't really live in council housing."

Just then we saw the sleek Jag's left turn signal flash as it slowed and turned into the drive of a huge three-story, gray stone Tudor with a wide white portico at the front entrance which consisted of recessed double oak doors, gleaming with fresh lacquer and at least ten feet tall.

"Wow," I exclaimed, "I've seen resort hotels that were less impressive!"

"Yes," Richard replied, "It does make quite a statement, doesn't it?"

"What's their background anyway? Is Kevin or Bridget related to the Royal family or something?" I asked, in awe.

"Not that I know of, just filthy rich I would guess. I'm not exactly sure what the source of their money is... I just know Kevin never speaks about it but they seem to have a lot of it."

Kevin pulled over to the outer side of the portico, leaving room for Richard to pull in next to the entranceway. As we exited the Land Rover, Kevin and Bridget joined us and led us toward the front door, which he unlocked by entering a sequence of numbers into a keypad set into the doorframe.

When we entered the lounge, we found a fire already burning cheerfully in the massive field stone fireplace. The room was dimly lit, only a small table lamp and the flames from the fire, creating an intimate ambiance. Two leather-covered sofas faced each other on either side of the fireplace, with a matching love seat completing a 'U' shaped grouping. A low mahogany table, holding four wine glasses and a silver ice bucket containing a bottle of Chablis, sat in the space between the sofas.

Richard and I sat facing the other couple as Kevin poured the wine and handed a glass to each of us. As we settled back into the butter-soft leather, I grinned at Bridget and said, "OK lass, just what did you get so embarrassed about at the pub?"

Bridget smiled, her incredible emerald green eyes sparkling in the firelight, as she replied, "Well, it seems that Kevin's and my own interest in sexual enhancement devices didn't exactly end with his design of the 'Magic Dildo' that you are already well acquainted with.

As Bridget paused, I pressed, "All right, but what was Kevin referring to when he mentioned something about you having a secret cache at home?"

"I was just getting to that," Bridget said, slightly flustered. "We have several prototype machines set up in a spare bedroom, where they are in the process of being 'evaluated'. Would you like to see them?"

I noticed Richard and Kevin smiling at each other conspiratorially as they followed our conversation and I wondered just what they were up to. However, ignoring them, I placed my wine glass on the table, rose to my feet and said, "Certainly, lead the way Bridget. Are you two grinning idiots coming?"

The two men, still grinning, hesitated for a moment before Kevin replied, "No, you two ladies run along. Richard and I have some boring 'guy things' we need to discuss."

I reached out and pulled Bridget to her feet. Still holding my hand, she led me back through the foyer toward a wide curved staircase. At the top of the stairs were three oak paneled corridors radiating from the landing; one to the left, another to the right, and a center one which lead toward the rear of the house. She guided me down the center hallway, stopping in front of what appeared to be a narrow metal sliding door. Reaching above its casing, she apparently pressed a concealed button, causing the door to slide silently open revealing a small elevator cab. She led me inside and pressed another button marked with an arrow pointing upward. The door hissed shut as quietly as it had opened and I heard a soft humming sound as the cab began to smoothly rise.

"Good Lord, Bridget, a lift just to go up one flight in a private home? Isn't that just a bit ostentatious," I observed.

"Kevin's also a security nut, I'm afraid," she replied. "And besides, this makes our little hideout seem slightly more special... almost like having a secret tree-house when we were kids."

When it reached its destination, the elevator stopped and the door whispered open once again. With only the light from within the elevator, I could see nothing except a small patch of very plush royal blue carpeting. Everything else was in complete darkness.

"Just a second," Bridget said, as she stepped out of the lift and found the light switch. Subdued indirect lighting flooded the area beyond, revealing what at first glance appeared to be a large carpeted bedroom. However, upon emerging from the elevator, I noticed it was more than a mere bedroom.

Bridget led me on a tour of the room, or more accurately the suite of rooms, pointing out a separate full bath and a small kitchenette. A massive king-sized canopied bed dominated the main room. I walked over to it and looked upward. Sure enough, there under the canopy was a mirror, which ran the full length of the bed.

I raised one eyebrow and grinned at Bridget. Predictably, she blushed slightly. "What's the matter," she asked defensively, "Don't tell me you didn't notice what Dickey has over his bed?"

Damn, I thought, there's no keeping a secret within this group. Not because she knew about Richard's mirrored bed, but rather that she knew I knew about it.

The rest of the room was outfitted with the expected bedroom furniture including two mahogany nightstands, two chests of drawers and a large, double-door wardrobe with two drawers below the doors. A small wicker sofa with two chairs and low coffee table formed an informal seating area at one side of the bed. What appeared to be an electronics workshop was also tucked into one corner of the main room.

I also noted a collection of odd-looking devices scattered about the main room. A couple of them looked like truncated gymnastic 'horses', which stood about two feet high. At the center of the top of each 'horse', a short metal arm protruded at about a 45-degree angle. On the floor near the 'horses' were two red leather-covered cubical shaped boxes, which looked like small trunks, foot stools, or storage cases of some sort, with shiny brass tack heads outlining the lower edge of their thick covers.

The workbench area was littered with an assortment of articulated mechanical arms, small electric motors, vacuum pumps, various electronic bits and pieces I couldn't immediately recognize, as well as hand tools, soldering irons and electronic meters.

Not understanding just what I was looking at, I asked, "This is certainly a nice little hideaway, and it appears that Kevin also uses it as some sort of work shop as well. But where are the 'toys' you supposedly have hidden away? After the devise you gave me this afternoon, I was expecting to see something really impressive... and titillating!"

Bridget laughed at my confusion and hugged me tightly. Her lips sought mine and our tongues instinctively joined, performing an exciting little dance of passion. She let her hands slide slowly down my back and moaned softly as her fingers gently caressed my butt. I felt my body responding to her ministrations, my nipples tingling in anticipation and a warm sensation growing in my loins.

As suddenly as it began, Bridget pulled back, and holding me at arms length, her eyes sparkling, said, "You're looking at our secret stash of toys right now, Alex. You just don't recognize them. Let me get us each another glass of wine and I'll give you a little show-and-tell." With that, she stepped into the small kitchenette, retrieved a bottle of wine from the small 'fridge and filled two chilled wine glasses. Returning to the main room, she moved to the small wicker sofa and placed the wine on the low table positioned in front of it, patting the cushion next to her indicating that I should join her.

As I sat down and picked up my wine glass, Bridget half turned to me and raised her glass, saying, "I'd like to propose a toast. Here's to the beautiful friendship that was born this afternoon. May it grow and blossom."

"To our friendship," I murmured as I touched the rim of my glass to hers. We each took a sip of the wine, sealing the toast.

"Let me start at the beginning," Bridget began. "It all started when I saw some advertisements on the Internet. I became fascinated by the possibilities and got Kevin involved. Now, as you might have already guessed, Kevin is somewhat of a nut when it comes to electro-mechanical devices, especially sexually oriented ones. I think he feels that any machine someone else builds, he can improve upon. Anyway, he purchased several of these devices and showed them to Marianne, hoping that she might wish to purchase some of them to install at the Castle. She was quite impressed with the concept, but felt the machines currently available on the market were somewhat limited in their capabilities, so she commissioned Kevin to reengineer them to her specifications. What you see here are some of the fruits of his labor. None of them are quite fully functional at this point but you might want to put your name in the queue for volunteer test driver. At the moment you would be second in line... right behind me," she laughed.

Then, more soberly, she continued," Right then, I guess it's time to explain what Kevin meant by 'my secret stash'. Let me start by asking you this, what is the most expensive sex toy you have ever seen or heard of?"

I thought for a few seconds, and then answered, "Well, I'm no expert on the subject, but I have seen one advertised in sexually oriented magazines which looked as though it might be a bit pricey. In the pictures, it showed a naked young female model kneeling astride a padded device that looked something like a gymnast's 'horse', in fact, it looked a lot like... Oh My God! I didn't even suspect," I laughed, looking at the padded devices on the floor near the bed.