Wednesday round up and a new story

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Hi Everyone

  Super happy to be able to bring you the next addition to the tales of Village life as brought to you by the wonderful Mistress Leather Beth.

 Today we have the first  Chapter, I have read up to 5 and they are such fun and even more complex and twisty than before. 

    However before that a couple of things from me.

Firstly quick re-imagining of Pirates of the Caribbean with our sweet Andy in the roll of Elizabeth Swan. Personally I think not even Andy can compete with Keira

XXX

Andy

 and now a strange thing which i Shared 

with Skinnie S and our  Friend Amber 

the other week.

It would seem an image i created purely as a bit of fun a few years ago, has gained a life of its own.

 

This Pic of Emma Watson in her Latex leggings has been picked up by at least 2 online style blogs as real.

What a giggle.

And now finally the main event of the day.

The Spy Who Came Into The Pavillion

By Mistress LeatherBeth

Chapter 1

OK. Listen up, folks. I don’t want any of you thinking that the HotHouse Extravaganza that we heard about last time was anything like the full weekend, fetish fuelled orgies which we all attend several times a year.

For a start, Madame Stella was determined to ensure that, for all the fun that the guests might enjoy, it was never to be forgotten that there was a commercial basis to the exercise, new products to be introduced, orders and measurements to be taken, fittings to be completed and delivery dates to be agreed.

Magdalena had indeed, with Belinda’s ‘assistance’, hosted a considerable number of memorable ‘weekends’ since they’d moved into The Grange some five years ago, but even Izzy was in awe of Lois Watkins’ drive and ruthless business acumen. If Madame Stella were to have her way, then the entire population would have a minimum of two kinks each before the end of the decade, or better still, Thursday week. And HotHouse would cater for them all. But it was the pressure of this business element which restricted the event to the single evening.

And that evening was a Friday, rather than the more obvious Saturday, because the latter was set aside for an even more important event.

Thus it was that things began to wind down soon after midnight. For those living locally it was a simple matter of strolling home. However, those who had travelled a little further would use a designated driver (ever the job of the subbie). But for those without such a driver, or who were in no rush, or who were wishing to make a weekend of it, there was the Fullerton Arms.

Dick and Josie, seeing a business opportunity, had moved into an annexe in the private garden around the back of the pub, and the large family sized accommodation in the upper storey had been converted into half a dozen guest rooms. These weren’t large but were exceedingly well appointed. And the local area had excellent fishing, so Dick wasn’t at all reliant just on events at The Grange for business (although there was an overlap. They’d had more than one guest with a fetish for waders). However, he and Izzy had come to an arrangement to ensure that people who were attending events, who would not be leaving immediately afterwards, and who couldn’t be accommodated at The Grange, would be directed to the pub. And it was their architect, a Dom known as “Destroyer of Souls” (whose speciality was tickle torture), who had made the suggestion that the odd space under the eaves could be converted into a staff flat. This had suited Kat, who was looking for a place of her own as both Ben and Tess were trying to get her to move in with her, something which didn’t suit her (See Fun in the Village, Chapter 3).

Jane and Mayfield had been among the first to leave, “Mayfield is still a little unsteady,” Jane had explained, “so I’ll just make sure he gets back safely to the Vicarage.” Andy and Will glanced at each other as Jane turned away and went back over to Mayfield, who was still smiling in his deck chair. Will almost lost control, breaking into a big grin, whilst Andy only managed to stifle a giggle by nibbling his lower lip in just about the cutest, hottest way imaginable.

“I think I’ll just help with the tidying up,” said Andy, and began to collect plates and glasses to take through to the kitchen, where Belinda had already made a start on one of the many piles of washing up.

Looking round, Will saw the oversized hutch containing the latex white rabbit Cottontail, AKA Josie Atlee, and the large pet basket filled with Jules and Jazz, twitching in their sleep as latex kitten and vixen.

“’Ere, gimme ‘and wi’ these two, chum, if tha’ dun’t mind.” Will looked round, and recognised Budgie, who was now feeling thoroughly refreshed after his spell in the vacbed (not that Will was aware of this). It transpired that Budgie had made his van, which he normally used to transport his karaoke equipment, available to transport the hutch and the pet basket to the pub.

Having nothing else to do until Andy had been released from his duties and they could leave, Will assented.

As they manhandled the hutch (still containing a tharn Josie) out of the French windows and around the side of the house, Will looked for a topic of conversation. “Erm, you’re not from around here, are you?” he asked. “It’s mi posh accent, in’t it?” grinned Budgie, “folks is allus tellin’ me as ow impressive ‘tis. Nay,” he continued, “’am Ozzletwizzle born ‘n’ bred.”

“Ah,” said Will, “you’re from Yorkshire.”

“Ey up, tha’ cheeky bugger,” replied Budgie. “Tha’ conna goo reaund accusin’ decent, honest folk o’ bein’ a Yorkie. Tha’ll be gettin’ thisen a clip reaund ‘lug.” Will, startled by the vehemence of Budgie’s reply, actually took a step back, and found himself searching for a form of apology.

“Nay, lad,” said Budgie, “’am marlockin’ thee, tha knaws, pullin’ thi leg. ‘Am from Oswaldtwistle. Nex’ do-er t’Accrin’ton. Lankysheer!”

“Lancashire,” said Will. “I can see how you might not be happy with my mistake”

“Nay, lad, it’s gradely. Anyroad, wi’d best be getten this tuthri lasses t’ t’pub.”

“OK,” said Will, glad that Budgie seemed to have taken no real offence. “I don’t want to keep Andy waiting too long.”

“Andy? That’s thi boyfriend, in’t it? If tha’ d’unt mind me seein so, yon’s a brahma o’ a lass.”

“Thanks,” said Will, hoping that this was an appropriate response to a comment which, quite honestly, meant nothing to him.

At least the hutch was stable and not too difficult to manoeuvre, and Josie was soon parked next to the banked down fire in the fireplace of the pub lounge. By comparison, the basket, with its double contents and undulating, flexible construction, was the cause of much cursing in both English and Lanky, but finally Dick was sliding the bolts behind them, and they climbed into the van for the short return journey to The Grange.

As Will unbuckled his seat belt, Budgie said, “’Assume tha’ll be watching ‘cricket tomorrer?” “The game against Derrington?” replied Will, “O yes. Aunt Jane has made the rivalry quite plain. The whole village will be turning out, I imagine,” replied Andy.

“Rivalry? Tha’ d’unt know th’alf on it.” said Budgie. ‘Ave unny lived ‘ere a fyow yearn, but f’ basic loathin’ ‘ave nurr senn eaut t’ metch it. ‘A yoos think Burnley ‘n’ Blackburn were as tough as it got, but they’re proper lovey-dovey compurred wi’ us ‘n’ Derrington.

“Another thing is, they’ve wun t’league seven o’t’ last ten yearn. We wun one o’ t’uthers, mind, ‘n’ beat ‘em t’last day o’ t’season in t’decider, but they’re as cocky a bunch as tha’ll e’er cum across, ‘n’ they’re not beyont cheatin’. Wi’v got thrash ‘em tomorrer. D’ost play?”

“Sorry? Oh, do I play? Actually, yes. I was First XI captain at school,” replied Will. “Bat at three, leg-spinner.”

Budgie’s ears pricked up. “A leggy? Wi’v noan had a leggy on’t team in o’ mi time ‘ere. A conna offer thee a place i’t side, but a think as ‘ow Kat’d be reet interested.”

“Kat? Why Kat?” asked Will.

“A thowt tha’d knaw, she’s captain o’ t’ team,” replied Budgie.

Kerry Haskins hadn't had this much fun in ages. The music was beyond deafening, which was fine, because it was only fit for dancing, not listening. Kerry ground his arse's tightest black vinyl pants into the crotch of the hunk behind him and was rewarded by several smacks across the rear. He was in two minds, however. He was really enjoying himself, and after the recent busy few weeks he'd had, and having had to deal with the Yevgeny ultimatum Mr Cooper had given him on Wednesday, he thought he deserved some clubbing fun. But equally, he really wanted to drag the hunk back to his place and play several rounds of 'bang the brain out'. Suddenly he almost jumped out of his thong. 

His Hummingbird (a present from Magdalena) had jumped from a pleasant 2, to a crotch-watering 10. Kerry whimpered an excuse to Sasha (the hunk) and staggered off in the direction of the toilets. Once there, he retrieved his phone, turned off the remote app, and came down with a bump. Whose dumb idea had it been to link the app to a specific phone contacts group, which he'd named 'Tashkent'? Oh, yeah. His idea. Well, the Tashkent deal was super important to Cooper Amalgamated, and if Kerry had missed a call from any of the parties involved, Mr Cooper would not have been pleased. Ah, well, at least he hadn't missed this call, thank goodness. Only a text, in fact, but a long one in which Yevgeny was making his position quite clear and supplying significant new information. And he would be making it even clearer, but face to face with George Cooper. He would be at The Grange in about seven or so hours’ time, around Saturday breakfast. And Kerry was pretty damn sure that George wouldn't care for Yevgeny to meet Belinda. And George would also prefer Kerry’s news in person.

Kerry, having turned the upper limit of the app down to a 6, tidied up his make up, put back on his lilac suede open-toed platforms with their five inch heel, and staggered out of the toilets just in time to see Sasha on the landing half way up to the Bloom Street exit, with that tramp Gloria.

“Oh, well,” she thought, “I suppose I’ll just have to concentrate on work instead. I really do need to get to The Grange before Yevgeny, or head him off, or something.”

With that she also headed for the exit.

To Be Continued