Diva in Disguise Chapter 20
The maid got off the bed and walked purposefully to the door.
I was about to remonstrate further when a light dawned. “This is another wind-up isn’t it? Nice one!”
“How can you be sure?” Consuela glanced back over her shoulder with an arch expression. Then she put her head out of the door and called “Madame!”
Despite her action, I held to my surmise. “I feel sure of you.”
“Well done!” she sighed. “You’re finally joining the human race.”
Unfastening my wrists and ankles, she giggled. “You are perfectly right. I was only teasing. She’s in the shower, so couldn’t hear me.”
Impulsively I got up and hugged her.
“Aww!” cooed the girl and squeezed me closer. “You do like me.”
Embracing a female as scantily clad as my companion had an unwanted consequence and one which I should have bargained for. I was not the only one to be aware that there was a stirring down below which was only partly restrained by my borrowed underclothing. While the occurrence left me filled with embarrassment, it seemed that Consuela welcomed it unashamedly!
“Ooh, honey!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t realise I had that effect on you. Pity we haven’t more time” she teased.
Seeing my consternation, she laughed “It’s quite all right. A girl likes to know she’s still got it!” When her mirth had subsided, she continued. “That brings me to your next task which… will be to help the mistress get into her robe.”
My dismay at the thought must have shown in my face.
“Relax! After experiencing my body so intimately you will be able to stand the sight of her bare flesh without batting an eyelid! Besides, by robe, I wasn’t referring to a bathrobe.”
“What did you mean, then?”
“Well, this evening she is dressing as Queen Cleopatra.”
“Cleo… Cleopatra?”
“Yes. It’s for one of our roleplays. Why did you think I’m got up like this? I’m to be her handmaiden, Charmian, or it might be Iras. It doesn’t really matter which.”
The reference to antiquity was Greek as far as I was concerned, or perhaps Egyptian!
Consuela walked over to the dresser and took out a number of objects from one of the drawers.
I gaped in wonder at their nature as she laid them down one after the other. The final one was a bundle of what I guessed were birch twigs. Grinning the maid swished it through the air, removing any doubt as to its intended purpose.
“Do you actually like this sort of thing, Consuela?” I wondered.
She shrugged. “It’s okay. I wasn’t too sure to begin with but now I quite enjoy our little sessions. Anyway, they keep madame happy. Whatever she claims, she won’t want to dispense with my services any time soon.”
“I guess.” Looking at it in that light I could see there might be an advantage for her.
“What about you?” she asked. “I’m betting it isn’t your thing. Right?”
“Right!” I heartily endorsed her supposition. “Call me a scaredy-cat, if you like, but you can count me out!”
“That’s fine. You had better run along now. The mistress will want you.”
As I obeyed Consuela adopted that annoying area of mystery again. “Once she has done with you, you will have the evening to yourself. I’ve laid out a few things for you on my bed. I’m guessing there’s one which you will find useful, if you keep your ears open, that is. See you later, alligator!”
I replied with the customary “In a while!” and left the room wishing my collaborator’s meaning hadn’t been left so maddeningly obscure.
It was with reluctance that I knocked on the door of Madeleine’s bedchamber. In an imperious tone she bade me enter. I did so to find her wrapped in a large towel, her hair turbaned in a smaller one. Clearly, she had only just emerged from her bathroom but her face bore an impatient expression.
“What took you so long?” she opened. Then gesturing to a further towel “You can start by drying my feet.”
I resolved that my best response to such cavalier treatment would be to remain silent, so accordingly I set about the appointed task without speaking. I performed my duties efficiently, but volunteered to do nothing unless Madeleine gave the specific instruction. I towelled and moisturised, then manicured and pedicured. In this and in setting and drying her hair, I made sure there was no cause for complaint, but the haughty expression of the recipient of my ministrations did not soften one iota.
I found it pleasing that despite the intimacy of our situation, my body chose not to respond with any embarrassing symptoms of arousal. Whether the woman noticed or not I couldn’t have cared less.
Finally, I helped the woman into her ‘royal’ robes. They bore some similarity to Consuela’s ensemble, but in ivory silk with gold trimmings.
The idea of such an imposing personage adopting these outlandish trimmings seemed quite ludicrous to me, and it was with difficulty that I managed to suppress my smiles. I did so with an effort however and was relieved to be dismissed from the ‘imperial’ presence without ‘Cleo’ taking offence. I was less amused that, on completion, no handover of one of those irritant photographs was forthcoming, so their destruction was no nearer.
Have you ever noticed that when a crisis is approached, time can seem to stand still? At a crucial point the minutes appear to be frozen before a tipping point is reached and then with a sudden lurch forward events start to rush by with ever gathering momentum. As I made my way to the maid’s room I felt that such a crisis was imminent now.
Once I saw what Consuela had left out for me an involuntary cry of delight escaped my lips. The welcome sight of my own girly clothes, neatly pressed and piled upon the bed was enhanced by the inclusion of my purse. I seized upon it and extracted, yes, at last… my roll of surgical tape. Strange that such a humble item should give rise to strong emotions, but I confess I made a silent prayer of thanks. I speedily divested myself of the hateful uniform that I seemed to have been wearing forever and after a careful application of the said tape I dressed myself in my own underwear.
Tucking one’s male appendages is usually regarded as an unwelcome chore by many but on this occasion it felt like heaven to be so disposed! A surge of confidence swept through me as I paraded in front of the mirror. Now I was equal to anything!
I was so preoccupied getting into my own gear that it took me a while to notice another piece of equipment which the maid had left for me to use. When I saw it, the meaning of Consuela’s words became transparently clear. It was as if a light had been turned on. I now knew exactly what I must do!
So armed, I quietly opened her door and stole down the passage until I was outside the door of the room she and her mistress occupied for their enactment. It was imperfectly closed, and I was aware of some strange sounds emerging. I gently pushed it open a few more inches until I could listen better to what was the taking place.
Madeleine kept uttering something like cries of pain mingled with moans of satisfaction. Her ‘handmaiden’ seemed to be chiding her, repeating as a sort of mantra. “My queen has been wicked. She must be punished!”
Every few moments the older woman would gasp “Yes, wicked, so wicked. Harder, harder!”
I opened the door wide to view a scene where, to my intense amazement, the lady of the house was positioned upon the bed, apparently in ecstasy. Her eyelids were shut and her expression reflected a mixture of agony and intense delight, while the maid administered a series of sharp blows with the bundle of birch twigs.
The sight was so surreal that for a few seconds I literally froze in astonishment. However, Consuela caught my eye and nodding vigorously, encouraged me to act.
From behind my back I took out the apparatus I’d brought with me, Madeleine’s instant camera. It was fitting that what she had used against me would now be turned to her own undoing. I made sure that her body was perfectly framed in shot and pressed the shutter release. The camera flashed as the still was taken. A few seconds later it whirred as the print emerged.
The woman had her eyes closed tight, oblivious to my presence. I checked the picture. It had captured the scene admirably. Secreting it under my top, I replaced the flash bulb and took another equally incriminating one. This time my subject awoke to what was happening.
“You!” she screeched angrily. “Why are you here? What do you think you are doing? Get out!”
I removed the second photo from its backing and dangled it in front of her nose. “I’m turning the tables on you, Madeleine.” It was hard to keep a note of triumph from my tone. “And, unlike the photographs you have been threatening me with, what this portrays is the actuality of what is taking place here. All the same, I’m willing to swap.”
My past persecutor made a wild snatch at the picture, but I was ready for that and sprang out of her reach.
“Consuela! Stop her!”
I was pleased to see that my ally shook her head and stood regarding her mistress with folded arms. “Don’t ask me to get involved in blackmail” she stated, simply. “That’s going too far.”
“Aargh!” With a wild cry Madeleine leapt to her feet and strode towards me. I turned on my heel and grabbing my purse, ran from the room and down the stair. As I sprinted across the hall I could hear that the pursuing woman was some way behind. Nevertheless I flung open the front door and fell…
Into the arms of… Ryan! A black pick-up truck stood in the driveway and I could tell he was pleased to see me. Yet, how in the world had he come to be there?
“Jennifer, thank goodness! Alma said you might be here.”
Emboldened by the support of my admirer I turned to face the dethroned ‘queen’. “Hand over those photos now, Madeleine, or this goes in the papers tomorrow.”
“You’re bluffing. No-one in this town would dare print that.”
I reckoned that she was probably right, but a surprise was in store for both of us.
“You’re wrong there” piped up Ryan, examining the print. “My father edits the gossip page. He’d die to get his hands on something so juicy.”
There was a stunned silence. I knew we had won.
Madeleine glared at me with hatred in her eyes. She turned and stalked into her office, returning with all four photos. Moments later the exchange was complete. Feeling almost light-headed with joy, I couldn’t help but joke “By the way, your butt does look big in this!” as I passed the print to her.
The quip was not appreciated by its target but the rest of us thought it funny. In particular, the maid dissolved into fits of laughter bringing her to the notice of my admirer for the first time. The youth stared, open-mouthed, then spoke in a husky voice. “Consuela!”
“Ryan!”
“Why are you got up like…?”
“I can explain…”
“Doesn’t matter… I’ve found you!” They were in each other’s arms in a flash.
Turning to me the boy looked over Consuela’s head apologetically. “Sorry, Jennifer. I thought I’d lost her. She’s the love of my life!”
“That’s okay. No, really!”
Accommodating Ryan’s apparent ability to be in love with three different females in a single week would require some mental agility. While I attempted the necessary adjustment, I turned to the lady of the house. Her face bore a stunned expression, unsurprisingly.
“This is goodbye, Madeleine. I’m guessing that I’ve received what you intended when you invited me here, but you were wrong about my mother. I don’t believe for a moment that she would have been so mean as to wish your treatment upon me. By the bye, in case you are thinking of trying something else, that wasn’t the only photograph I took of your… activities. Call it an insurance. Let’s hope we never meet again.”
Epilogue
Clearing my mother’s house had been a bigger undertaking than I had imagined. Even with the help of Alice and Tom before they had left, I had been hard put to complete it. The Goodwill store was generally the beneficiary of the exercise. Many items which could probably have been sold had gone that way, some because I hadn’t the heart and others because the process would have taken too long. Fortunately, my parent hadn’t believed in hoarding, and I’d tried to follow her example in that respect. Dealing with the childhood memories which some treasured artefact conjured up wasn’t easy, nonetheless, but eventually I reached an end.
At about the same time the final papers relating to the sale of the property came through. All that remained was to pack the possessions which I couldn’t bear to part with into the u-haul trailer, hitch it to my little car and start the long drive to my new home. Though it was hard to say goodbye to friends, I left the town where I was raised without regret. It would be hard to do justice to my feelings of joy and relief at being together with my little family again.
There were some unexpected consequences of my trip to deal with, however. On complaining to Rachel that some of my clothes had gotten tight around my middle, she happily clarified that no, they had not shrunk in the wash and also pointed out that I seemed to have abandoned my regime of nightly waist-training.
“Surely it’s time to dispense with that” I protested. I was keen to distance myself from all of the disciplines I’d been subjected to in the past. Those hormonal supplements were another such.
My wife took a different view, overriding my objections. “I’m pretty sure that Pete has lined up a whole series of photoshoots in the coming weeks. You will want to get into shape for those.”
“But…”
“’Fraid so! I believe she might have some other plans for her star protégé, too.”
“Oh? Okay.” Considering the ordeal I’d just experienced, I didn’t mind in the least what might be ahead of me. As long as I didn’t have to be away from home, it was fine by me.
“Yes, she was really interested when I told her about your singing career.”
“Career? One set in a nightclub is hardly a career.”
“If you say so, dear.”
There was an arch expression on the pretty countenance of my loved one which gave me pause.
Resignedly, I asked the question. “What exactly has she in mind?”
For answer Rachel mouthed a single word, which nevertheless filled me with trepidation.
“Hollywood”
**!!$$$*!
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Retribution
Madaleine's chickens have come home to roost!