Chapter 35

My suite door opened and my girls came in. Karolina in the lead as was her right, Umber Julia, Varinka and Alina next, Jo and Karen next and Susan and Lynne last but certainly not least.

Varinka and Alina were dressed as young girls, long party dresses with high necks, the epitome of pubescent decorum.

Umber, Julia, Karen and Susan were young teens and dressed to emphasis their burgeoning sexuality. Very classily dressed, their dresses showed a little cleavage and hugged their figures a little.

Jo wore an almost backless creation which showed that she was a woman who didn't need to depend on artificial support to maintain her figure.

Lynne wore a white silk sheath, slit from a gold ring at her neck to another just, and only just, above her pubis. The back was the same, a gold ring at her neck and another showing the start of her bum crack at the bottom. The sides were spilt from upper hip down. All of the openings showed only the woman inside the dress.

Karolina wore the dress she had worn to the last party. She looked stunning. I held out my left elbow and she hooked her right arm through it. "Ready?"

"Me ready all time Master." I looked down at the wonderful creature at my side, she looked up at me, sparkling eyes in her happy face. She twisted — just so, and I was rewarded with a show of her braless breasts.

"Shall we go to the party?" I asked my ladies.

Jo stepped to the side, "Master, we follow you. Where you go, we go. We are your slaves, Master. Take us where you want us to be." She smiled at me and returned to stand beside Karen. All of my slaves heard her speech and they all nodded appropriately. I looked at them, then at Karolina and led my girls to our party.

At a function at this level no one ever arrives first. There are always people in the rooms talking and drinking. Always dressed appropriately these people are just decoys. They are the host's staff or hired help, people who fill the room so that the first to arrive doesn't feel uncomfortable. As the guests arrive these people disappear.

I arrived at the party first, Karolina stayed by my side while the other girls left to talk to the decoys.

Soon though a real guest arrived, and it was someone I really wanted to talk to, Aggie.

"Still conning the local yokels then."

"Fuck sake, Aggie, put some nails in yer boots so decent people know when you're around." I held out my hand and we shook.

"You still look like shit. I reckon you should find yourself a woman or two, keep you warm in bed at night." He grinned as he took a sip of his water. He had a stunning lady by his side.

"Excuse me, I know that Aggie won't introduce us as he's afraid I'll steal you away from him. I'm Paul, Lord Symington, and this is Karolina." I held out my hand.

"I'm Wing Commander Angela Weston, Gerald's wife."

"I didn't know Aggie knew any crabs (Note 1), and doesn't Gerald mind you going to parties with matelots?" I asked puzzled.

She sighed, "He," she pointed at Aggie, "is Gerald."

"Fuck me, Aggie," I saw his wife shake her head and start talking to Karolina, "didn't know you had a first name."

I looked at his uniform, "Didn't want to steal the same one twice eh?" I said pointing at the thick gold stripe denoting the rank of Commodore. "Probably a good thing, otherwise they'll find out who's nicking them."

Aggie sighed just like his wife did, I wondered how long they've been married.

Aggie felt the material at my collar, "This didn't come from Harry Bernard! (Note 2) So, you finally paid more than ten quid for a set of threads. Wonders will never cease."

"Don't know how much this cost, Karolina might, but I'm a big businessman now, gotta be smart like the posh people. Make them think I'm one of theirs."

"You're going to be one of 'theirs' soon. There's a Baronetcy in the pipeline for you, you should get the letter when I tell them that you'll accept it."

"So that'll make Janice a Lady then." I asked downhearted.

"Actually no. The judge who hears your divorce case will rule that the title was earned after she applied for the divorce and thus she will not be party to the honour."

"So you know which judge will hear our divorce then?"

"Oh God no. Doesn't matter who hears your case, their instructions are going to be the same, Janice gets ten million and nothing else. Any arguments and the judge will start slicing millions off her maintenance award."

"Why the honour?" I had to ask this.

"Because you really are like them, you've made a shit load of cash and pissed people off." He paused for a moment, "You haven't killed anyone yet, if you do have to start thinning them out a bit, remember to kill a lot of people, then you're a freedom fighter not a simple murderer."

He didn't smile at all when he said that.

"Tell them I'll accept. Is 'Baron on Glastbrook' still available?" I said.

Aggie made a note on a small pad he kept in his pocket. "Anyway on to other things, is Bands still here?"

I pressed a button in my right hand pocket (left hand pocket was for emergencies.) "I think she's around somewhere. Would you like me to get her?

Elastic strolled into view as we spoke. I saw two of her girls wander casually toward us at the same time. One of them was Sandy.

Elastic 'noticed' us and came to chat. "Hello Commodore," she held out her hand. She was in her lieutenants' uniform but we were indoors so she didn't salute.

"You're out of uniform, Commander." Aggie barked. He handed her a letter which she tore open. Her eyes glistened with tears as she read it.

"Thank you, Sir. Thank you so much." She hugged Aggie, which he seemed to like quite a lot. I'm going to have to keep an eye on Aggie, he might be after one of my girls.

Angela stepped forward, "We have a new uniform jacket and cap for you in the lobby. Someone called Gerry is looking after it for us."

Elastic hurried away and returned only moments later dressed in the uniform of a Commander (RN).

"You'll have to come back to Poole, of course," Aggie told her.

Elastic slipped the jacket off her shoulders and held it out to him. "You can have every stitch of the rest of the uniform right here and right now if you want." She stated.

Aggie looked surprised. "What about your sections here?"

"Well some of us might resign our commissions," said Sandy.

"And some of us might go AWOL," added Chiefy.

Aggie looked either side of him at the number of Elastic's team who now surrounded him, all with grim faces, "Of course we could always start sending the trainees here instead," he said, pleasing all of the serving personnel.

Elastic turned to him, "Would you mind helping me with my jacket, Sir?"

Gallantly, Aggie helped Commander Sandra Bands (RN) into her new jacket.

"We're going to have to have a celebration for you Elastic, get your folks down and everything." She just looked at me with tear pricked eyes.

Over the next few minutes all of Elastics team came and congratulated her. Some openly, others just passed and smiled. Elastic knew every one of her girls and knew that they all wished her well.

Aggie shook my hand and moved on. There was someone here he wanted to speak to. As there was most of the political cream of London here I was sure that he'd find lots of people he'd want to talk to.

As Angela approached me she murmured, "Fucking Airy Fairies (Note 3)."

As she passed I muttered, "Fucking crabs." She smiled at me, a full smile which reached her eyes. I would like to know Angela better. I would ask Aggie here again and ask him to bring his wife too.

The lights in the room brightened and a raucous alarm sounded. "Please be aware that the press will be in the room in two minutes. The press will be in the room in two minutes."

I had received requests from the various press organisations to allow their reporters and camera crews unrestricted access into my event as soon as they knew that the Screaming Monkeys were going to attend. I sent back a large contract that they could sign, giving the conditions of entry for the news crews. None of them were returned.

In case the crews arrived early enough I had individual briefing rooms set up with solicitors, thank you Sasha, to verbally brief the reporters on the conditions of entry. Every crew member had to sign as having been briefed on these conditions and having, individually, understood them. Each crew member was fitted with a locator tag similar to those worn by 'tagged' criminals. Those who didn't agree to the tagging were refused entry. Those who argued were thrown out of the building, with various degrees of force.

Two female reporters who thought that they knew where the group's dressing rooms were, stripped naked just before breaking into the security department's rest room, were ejected onto the street naked. They had been warned that the reporters and their crews would be ejected from the premises if any member of the team were found to be 'inappropriately dressed'.

Of the fourteen reporters, and crews — photographers or camera crews, that actually signed the agreements necessary for access, only nine actually achieved entry into the event hall.

I was talking to Harold Dempsey and Councillor Jeffery Thomas, Lord Mayor of the City of London, when a rather obnoxious woman reporter thrust a microphone into my face.

"What's the most significant thing that you've done today, Symington?"

I noticed three other cameras on me as I turned to the group I was talking to.

"Please excuse this rudeness. It seems that some people have not yet learned manners. The reporter reddened slightly at that barb.

I turned to her and smiled politely. "Please could you repeat your question?"

Theatrically she sighed. "If you're too dumb to remember, Symington, I asked you what was the most significant thing you've done today."

"I had not forgotten your question, even though you asked it most rudely, I was trying to give you a contiguous piece to broadcast." Seeing her eyes glaze a little I leaned forward, "Contiguous, it means one after the other, joined up, sequential. So that you'd have something worth broadcasting."

She was almost apoplectic by now, "Well! Have you done anything significant or have you just rested on the labour of your employees?"

"If you have forgotten, it is Saturday today and all of my employees have today and tomorrow off. Except for a few necessary individuals who have contracted to work over the weekend and take different days off in lieu. However today I did do something significant. A friend and I started a life. This life may bring the human race great glory, it might plunge us into destruction and despair. It is a new life with all of the potential of a new person. Who knows what it will bring. But a friend and I, together, knowing what we were doing, lay down together and started a life. And then we kissed." I smiled at her.

She stuttered slightly, so I jumped into the gap. "And what significant thing have you done today? Have you written any articles on the state of humanity? How about commentaries on the issues of concern to us all?" She was overrun by the speed of which I had stolen her interview. "Scratched your parts and farted? No? Fed the cat?" Stupidly she nodded at this.

"So, I have joined with a loved and trusted friend and we have almost certainly started a child, and you have fed your cat. Ummm ... You'll excuse me if you're lacking a bit in this discussion." I patted her shoulder before I turned away from her, effectively ending the interview, "Why don't you go home and see if your cat needs some water?"

Apparently those were the very words her station chief used when he sacked her.

I watched her stagger away and then the lights lowered in warning that all press personnel must leave the building immediately, I excused myself from the people I was with and went to the bar.

This was in a separate room and had a little section roped off from general use. As I looked enviously at this direct access to the bar, a security guard I didn't know smiled at me and opened the rope barrier, "Your seat is free my Lord." I entered and sat at a bar stool.

I wondered what Karolina would think if she caught me like this. As I was musing a barman came over, "What can I get you Sir?"

"John Smiths Smooth please."

"And I'll have one as well and put them on my tab." I turned and met Gerald, sorry, Thrash.

"Hi Paul, long time no see."

I stuck my hand out, "Hi Gera ... Thrash."

We shook.

"Tell you what," he said, "you keep getting the smooth in, and I'll be OK with you calling me Gerald."