Chapter 48

Don was at the wheel of the dark-green Rolls as he and Marion made their way to their hotel near the famous Las Vegas Strip. Cara had taken a private limousine to her hotel, while over their mild objections, the girls had insisted on driving their white Mercedes convertible into town. There had been a huge reception at the airport for them with the governor of Nevada presiding, along with the state’s two U.S. senators and its representatives in Congress. After speeches and a review of an honor guard, they had finally gotten away.

“This is really neat!” Don said aloud.

“What is, darling?” she responded.

“Driving this car,” he answered. “You may have forgotten — if, indeed, you ever knew — that the Spitfire was powered by a Rolls-Royce engine, the 16-cylinder Merlin. So listening to this beauty reminds me of the old days.” After a pause he continued, “And that reminds me! I had a rather humorous conversation with General Clark.”

“What about?” Marion asked, interested.

“It was quite amusing, really,” Don said. “First of all, he was acting like a young school boy sent down to talk to the headmaster.” He grinned at the memory. “It turns out that he commands Nellis Air Force Base. It’s the home of the USAF Advanced Fighter School ... sort of the Air Force’s Top Gun. Anyway, the very best pilots the Air Force has are sent to Nellis for advanced training in air combat. And if its students are the best, you can only imagine what their instructors are like. The fact is, I understand, the only flyers eligible for instructors’ positions at the school are those who graduated at the very top of their class when they were students. If you didn’t graduate number one, you can never be a Nellis instructor.

“Anyway, it seems the instructors get a little tired of push-button warfare. ‘My computer is smarter than your computer,’ is the way Clark describes it. Of course, in addition to the top pilots, Nellis also has the top aviation mechanics, and they all love planes. The result is they’ve perfectly restored a full squadron of F-51’s, the top fighter plane in the air at the end of the war. Clark finally broke down and asked if I would care to fly with them. It really gave me a jolt.”

“What did you tell him?” Marion asked. “Or more accurately, when are you flying with them?”

He slowly shook his head and said softly. “I love you, my darling, more than you can ever know!” Then he glanced at her and asked, “And how are you this morning?”

“So sore I can hardly sit!” she responded. Then she hit him hard on the arm.

“What was that for?” Don asked mildly.

“That was for causing the prostitutes’ union to kick me out!” she exclaimed. “And my dues are paid for almost another whole year, too.”

“And why did they kick you out?” he inquired.

“They won’t,” she grumped. “They’ll just laugh me out which is even worse!”

“And why will they laugh my love out of the union?”

“What else do you expect them to do when they learn a career prostitute has her brains fucked out by an 82-year-old man! I mean ... Good grief!”

At that they heard a rumble of laughter from Duke who was stretched out on the floor in back.

Turning in her seat, she glared at him and snapped, “And you keep your mouth shut, too!”

There was another rumble of laughter that verged on a giggle. Marion just loved the sound. Duke was riding with them while Duchess was with the girls, as they were beginning their new relationship.

Continuing, Marion said, “And that’s not even the worst of it. The worst of it is that after almost a month, I still can’t even put my thighs together. My groin hurts too much.” Then she hit him again and said, “And it’s all your fault, Donald Whitfield!”

“That’s nice,” he said mildly. “But how would they know, darling, unless you tell them? I have honored my promise to you completely. Not only have I taken out no ads at all in The Star, I didn’t send them even a small notice. Of course, I am continuing my weekly full-page ads in The Times and The Sunday Telegraph, but you assured me the prostitutes never see those.”

“They don’t,” she answered shortly. Then she said, “I’m certain I will get no respect, either. If I tell my story, they’ll just howl with laughter ... the bitches! For example, taking you in my mouth. Now when a prossie takes a john in her mouth, after an hour of so of working on the guy’s tiny thing, he might cum a thimbleful or two. But you? Hah! You cum in quarts! How will I ever get them to believe that it runs down my face because I just can’t hold any more fluid! If it were plain water, I couldn’t drink that much.”

Then she sat back in her seat, folded her arms, stared straight ahead and muttered, “I hate you, Donald Whitfield. You’re destroying me!”

“And I love you, too, Marion Whitfield. Have I told you how much I love you lately?”

“No!” she exclaimed, hitting him on the arm again.

“And what was that punch for?” he asked mildly.

“That was for not being a gentleman, Donald Whitfield. You didn’t even wish me a good morning!”

“But darling, you were cuming for almost thirty minutes this morning. What was that?”

“That was your cock, Donald. Your cock was saying good morning to his beloved — if somewhat battered — sheath who adores him. Your cock is a gentleman, Donald. What’s wrong with the rest of you?”

“I adore you, Marion Whitfield.” A few minutes passed in silence and he said, “A penny for your thoughts?”

“I was just thinking how incredibly lucky I am,” she said. As she replied, she moved as far toward him as the seat allowed. “Darling, I’m going to say something that may sound strange. I am really looking forward to our life together. A month ago my outlook could not have been worse. Now, it couldn’t be better. And thank you, darling, for making it so.”

As soon as Don pulled the car into the hotel drive and stopped, both front doors were opened by waiting attendants. To their surprise, Marion opened the rear door, and Duke eased out. Bystanders let out low screams as the now-giant Bengal tiger stretched his huge body, and then sat up attentively beside Marion, awaiting further developments. Donald, meanwhile, had opened the trunk. A bellman removed their luggage, and then led the way into the hotel. Marion had her hand lightly on Donald’s left arm, while Duke paced along majestically beside her.

“You look so proud, Duke!” Marion mentally communicated.

“Of course I do, Mistress!” he replied. “That is because I am! I am escorting one of the greatest heros who has ever lived and his divine wife, my mistress! Every tiger in the world envies me right now, and would do anything to change places. I am the proudest tiger in the world. My master and mistress are the Duke and Duchess of Northumbria!”

As soon as the tiger was spotted, the hotel manager himself came racing up to welcome them. As he was greeting them, Marion saw the Mercedes pull up at the entrance and come to a stop behind the Rolls. She lightly squeezed Don’s arm. When he saw the girls, he told the manager who then waited with them for the girls to join.

The manager, casting around for something to say, finally said, “That is a magnificent tiger.”

“Thank you, sir,” Donald acknowledged. “Sir Duke, why don’t you say hello?”

In an instant, Duke moved into his house-cat position and extended his paw. The frightened manager took it very gingerly as Don continued, “This is Sir Duke, KCB. Her Majesty knighted him and his sister for exemplary service to the Crown.” Turning, he saw Ann and Mary and added, “Here come the others now.”

Hearing his words, the manager let out a sigh of relief. “Sir, I am very pleased to hear that,” he replied with his British accent now apparent. “For exemplary service to Her Majesty? I should very much like to hear more about that someday.

“As it is, you have just relieved a concern of mine. The so-called Animal-Rights people have been causing a good deal of turmoil here in Las Vegas. I suppose it started with the live animals at Circus Circus, but they’re still hanging around, creating problems.” Looking up, he said, “Uh, oh! Here they come now.”

The leader of the group, a pony-tailed man in his 40’s, came running up. While still a few feet away, he screamed, “Release that animal! You’re killing him with drugs! Just look. He’s so full of drugs, he can’t even stand!”

In less than the blink of an eye, Duke was out of his pose, had attacked the man with his forepaws extended, and knocked him flat on his back. Now he was standing with both forepaws on the man’s chest. With his teeth bared, he was emitting a blood-curdling growl.

The man was so scared, his hair had literally turned white before their eyes. “Shoot him!” he screamed. “He’ll kill me!”

“I shouldn’t do that, if I were you,” the Duke said mildly. “It will cause no end of trouble.”

To Duke he said, “Now why don’t you just take that thing outdoors, Duke, before you start to eat him. Remember, young man, we haven’t paid the last hotel for the damages you caused.”

Don looked up thoughtfully, and then at Marion, “Darling, that bill was more than $50, wasn’t it? To have the blood removed from the lobby carpet?”

“Oh, no, dear!” Marion said, with her eyes wide. Then she whispered in Don’s ear, or pretended to.

As she did, he looked startled at first and then shook his head. “Darling, you’re right of course, but I don’t believe the manager was being fair. Paying for the blood he spilled is one thing, but I feel no sense of responsibility for the excrement or urine the victim deposited on it. I believe that should have been a charge to the man’s estate. Don’t you agree, sir?”

It was all the manager could do to keep a straight face, but he agreed. Then looking concerned, he said, “But, Your Grace, you will ask Sir Duke to be as neat as possible, won’t you? Blood and guts, even if it’s spread around outdoors, do so upset some of our guests.”

Don appeared to think for a moment, and then firmly nodded his head. “I shall do my best, sir. Truly, I shall.” Then to Duke he said, “Young man, you’ve already had a full meal. Surely you don’t intend to eat that whole thing? How about an arm? That should provide just the right-sized snack to tide you over until dinner.”

A woman who seemed to make a pair with the man still pinned to the ground — she had stringy hair, an unwashed T-shirt and Birkenstocks — came up and said threateningly, “If you don’t get that beast off my David at once, he will be shot! Our friends are going for a gun now.”

“My dear lady,” Don began, “that would be terribly unfortunate for a number of reasons. First, as you should know, Sir Duke is a Royal Bengal tiger. They rank rather high on the Endangered Species list. Perhaps you’re familiar with the rancher who shot a grizzly bear that was attacking him? Although the bear wasn’t killed, the rancher is now serving 10 years in prison for harming it. And, while the grizzly is protected here in the States, the Bengal tiger is internationally protected by treaty obligations of the United States. And I’m sure you’re aware of the fact that treaty obligations transcend the Constitution itself.

“But there’s more: Beyond being endangered, Sir Duke is traveling on a British diplomatic passport. You don’t wish to create an international incident, do you? But there’s still more: Sir Duke was personally knighted by Her Majesty. He is a favorite of hers. She would be ... displeased ... if something were to happen to him.

“Then, of course, we come to Her Majesty’s Special Air Service, better known by its initials, the SAS. My son won the Victoria Cross commanding that unit; he is still held in very high regard by those chaps. And, of course, the Service loves Sir Duke.”

With a little smile Don concluded, “Would Madam wish to reconsider her position?”

Turning back to Duke, Don said, “How about it, big fellow? Just an arm? Now why don’t you take your ... thing ... outdoors and have your snack?”

At that point they were joined by Ann and Mary. Ann looked down and asked in a most incurious tone of voice, “What’s Duke have?”

“Oh, I’m not really sure, darling. Some idiot came screaming over and accused Duke of being all drugged up—”

“You poor thing!” she screamed. Then dropping to her knees on the man’s chest and driving them into his belly in the process, she took Duke’s great head in her arms and comforted him. “Darling, I’m sure he didn’t mean it! He doesn’t know that it almost took the direct intervention of God Himself to get you to accept anaesthesia when you were shot after killing those three men. We know you won’t even take an aspirin, don’t we? But what are you doing now?”

Her eyes were wide as she appeared to listen to Duke’s response. Then she made a face and said, “But Duke! That’s yucky! Munch on that arm? Duke Whitfield, get serious! Aside from being larded with fat — and you know damned well what the vet said to you about cholesterol — he’s filthy! Heaven only knows what germs you might pick up.”

Then she got off the man’s chest and pretended to try to drag Duke off him. “How about a compromise? How about just clawing off his arm? That way...” She shook her head and said, “Oh, Duke! You’re impossible.”

To Don she said, “I’m sorry, Daddy, but I tried. But you know how Duke is when he has his mind made up. And he’s bound and determined he’s going to at least eat an arm.” Looking at Don accusingly she added, “He said you promised he could. Did you?”

Her eyebrow was raised and Don just guiltily nodded his head.

At that Ann went back to the man and kicked him in the ribs with the tip of her shoe as she said, “Sir? Sir? Are you there?” The man’s eyes were glazed and his head was just lolling from side to side.

Looking over to where his friends were clustered together she asked, “Are any of you this ... person’s ... next of kin, by any chance? A friend, perhaps? We tried our best, but you saw what happened.”

She shook her head and spoke, as if to herself, “There’s a lesson here, though. It certainly pays to mind one’s own business sometimes.” Then with her eyes wide she repeated, “Any next of kin? No?”

Then she shrugged and said, “Okay, Duke. Now will you get this ... thing ... out of the lobby before he really stinks up the place? He’s obviously fouled his pants already.”

Just then Duchess paced over to Duke and snarled, then let out a low growl. With the greatest reluctance, Duke got off the man and slunk after Duchess with his tail dragging.

“Well I’ll be damned!” Ann exclaimed. “Leave it to a woman...”

“What did she do?” the woman who had made the threat asked. Her fearful tone suggested she wasn’t really sure she wanted to hear the answer.

“Where are you from?” Ann asked. The woman said they were from Berkeley, California. “I would strongly urge you to get as many miles as possible between you and Las Vegas, then,” Ann continued. “You see, Duke was told that if he touched that man, either here in the lobby or out front, he would be sleeping alone for the next month. And I don’t have to tell you, he is pissed!”

Then with a smile that was as phony as a $3 bill, she said, “Let me explain the facts of life to you: A Royal Bengal tiger is the world’s most efficient hunter. While he prefers to hunt by day, his night vision and his sense of smell are superb. He can swim and climb trees easily. In fact, there is no better-equipped natural hunter on earth. The fact that he has resources he seldom uses in no way means that he can’t use them or won’t. Normally, he doesn’t use them because there’s no need for him to. Follow?

“I tell you this only to emphasize that if he wants you, you’re dead. If he were to see you anywhere off the hotel property, you’re toast! Clear?”

Staring deeply into the woman’s eyes she concluded, “And he wants you!” Glancing at her watch she said, “I guess you have thirty minutes or so to get clear.”

The woman said a few words to her group, and a moment later they were literally running from the lobby dragging their still unconscious friend on the floor behind them as they did.

Turning to the manager, Don said blandly, “Pardon me for the interruption. But I believe you were telling me of some trouble you were having with the Animal-Rights people... ?”

“‘Were having’ is correct, Your Grace. Past tense.” Then with a warm smile he continued, “May I have the pleasure of showing you to your suite?”

As soon as they were shown around — the suite was the finest in both the hotel and the entire city — the manager said, “Your Grace, there is one matter: Mr. Bill Gates of Microsoft Corporation has been calling personally. He asks that you call him as soon as you can so that he may arrange a personal meeting with the duchesses. What makes it quite different is no one has heard of Mr. Gates ever placing a call personally.” With a grin he added, “I suspect his secretary even places calls to his wife for him!”

When the manager excused himself, the whole family broke down in laughter. The girls rolled on the floor with the tigers teasing them about their acting ability. The two lay side by side while Duke nuzzled his sister’s neck. “You were great, Sis!”

“And you were great yourself, Brother!” Then the great tigress said, “I suppose they mean well, but they’re so incredibly stupid!” Then with a grin she said, “Of course that’s not a problem we share. We have the smartest masters and mistresses in the whole world! And the neatest little kids, too.”

The girls started out on the floor, but quickly shifted to the tigers’ backs using their great heads as head rests. “Mother, this is so incredibly neat! Now that they’re full grown, I’ll bet...” Mary said, and then interrupted herself.

She snapped her fingers and said, “Guess what we learned? Kathy Carlson says that the greatest experience of her life was being fucked by Ken while lying on Prince’s belly. She said they fell asleep that way one time and awakened, lying face to face with Prince’s huge forelegs wrapped around them both. She says you’ve never felt anything so good as being fucked while your back is cradled by the wonderfully soft fur on his belly. Kathy says it’s finer than mink!” With her eyes dancing, she said, “The other neat thing is to be bare and just lay on your belly and tease your nipples against his luscious fur.”

“Can we do that with you now, Duke?” Marion asked softly.

“Mistress, I am one of the largest of all Bengal tigers now. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to serve as the marriage bed for you and the Duke. Nothing!”

Duchess added, “While you’re lying on Duke, Mistress, I’m certain that nothing would give Sheena greater pleasure than to remove the hair from your legs and underarms, and even neaten your pubic patch while you pleasure yourself.”

Marion lay back against the sofa, closed her eyes and said softly, “We’ll have to marry you off in a hurry then, Duke. I can hardly wait!” Then she opened her eyes and added, “But I am going to wait, anyway. The anticipation is thrilling me already.”

Don came back into the room from a sitting room. “I spoke to Gates,” he said. “He’ll be over here in one hour.”

“But Daddy, why aren’t we meeting him at his place, or at some neutral location?” Mary asked.

“The Yanks call it ‘home field advantage’. And when dealing with William Gates, I’ll take any advantage I can find. He has not become the richest man in the world from a standing start by being a fool!”

The girls quickly set up Susie in their own sitting room, showered and then massaged each other’s body. With five minutes left, they were back in the living room carefully grooming the already-magnificent tigers. Finally they put a big white ribbon around Duchess’s neck, and a big black one around Duke’s. At that moment, there was a knock on the door.