A Gathering of Clowns
Chapter 02 The Ringmaster May Change, Yet The Circus Remains The Same
Ivy Prendergast came and looked into Da Costa’s office. “Hey,” Da Costa exclaimed with a smile. “Heading off?”
Prendergast smiled in response and she looked quite pretty when she did this. Her height and her hair piled on top of her head often distracted people from this reality. “Yes, just thought I’d check in and see if there was anything before I took my leave.” She stood, with a small smile on her face.
Da Costa regarded the woman in return, a smile playing on her plump lips. “Well, I can think of a thing or too, but I believe there are still folks about, hmmmm?”
Prendergast came, quietly for a large person, and stood behind Da Costa as the woman sat at her impressive dark, wood desk. Prendergast leaned forward so her substantial breasts pressed against Da Costa’s neck. “Would it have anything to do with…these?” Prendergast murmured into Da Costa’s dark head.
Da Costa turned her face and Prendergast leaned forward, sucking the woman’s purple-red lips into her own pink-lipped mouth.
“Your father won’t be coming home it seems; he’s off to San Francisco on business.” Melanie said quietly, watching Emily.
Emily snorted and took a deep drag of her cigarette. They were sitting on another balcony, this one off the room called the library, although it contained no books. They were out here as Emily wished to smoke. It was early evening and they had just finished an excellent meal, prepared by Chantico; one of her many duties.
“He’s just scared to see me, Mel.” She said, wearily. “Nothing changes.”
“I don’t think, he’s, um, scared, Em.” Melanie paused to look again at her ‘niece’; with the evening sun highlighting her hair, illuminating her perfect face, emphasizing her beauty. “I just don’t think he knows what to do with you.”
“He could start by, you know, talking.” Emily stated.
“That’s not one of his strong suits, kid,” Melanie noted, looking out over their hilly vantage point, here in the section where the roads were named after prestigious institutions; Stanford, Yale, Princeton, Berkeley and the like. Melanie gazed down the route of their street as it curved slightly by their large home before straightening eventually and then sloping gently westward, her thoughts interrupted by Emily.
“How old are you?” she had blurted out, decisively stubbing her cigarette in a crystal ashtray; a remnant of the past.
“Thirty-nine. Why? I thought you would know that.” She smiled.
“I would,” Emily yawned languidly, “if I paid attention.”
Melanie laughed and they sat for a moment silently, the sun now almost completely set. “Tell me about Chantico.” Emily added, changing topics and showing her attention issues.
“Yikes, you’re all over the map tonight. What’s up?”
“Nothing, Mel-bel, just sometimes my mind kinda’ goes off on its own thing, you know. I like Chantico; she’s very attractive and I like to know stuff, so come on.”
Melanie just shook her head, a smile on her face. “Well, she’s been with us four years or so; her mom was with us for several years before; you had to have seen her.”
Emily shrugged her shoulders, and Melanie continued. “The mom went back to Juarez to look after her mother, and I guess several other kids. Chantico took over everything for us from cooking to cleaning. She basically sends her money back home to support the brood. Why are you so interested in her and you, um, really think she’s attractive?” Melanie finished in a rush.
Emily snorted again, “Who’s jumpin’ around now, hey?” She smirked. “Ok, I’m going to start my little game of dominance with the lovely Chantico, and yes, she’s fuckin’, oops, sorry, hot, Mel. How the Hell you missed that blows my, um, freakin’ mind.” Emily stopped and looked meaningfully at her relation.
Melanie pondered that, because she truthfully had never considered Chantico attractive or not; it wasn’t something she thought about. “What do you mean, exactly, with this dominance thing?” she now ventured cautiously. As more of Emily’s plans were revealed Melanie was becoming, a little, more concerned.
Emily studied the older woman, considering how much to reveal and how to present it. “Ok, now just let me look after things, right? You’re along for the ride pretty much and for a little support, but I’m like the ringmaster.”
“Does that make me a juggler or an acrobat?” Melanie asked, a smile on her face.
Emily smirked. “Neither, you’re kinda the dude that drives the truck.”
“Oh thanks sweetie, that’s a vote of confidence.”
Emily chuckled. “Fine, fine, quiet now and let me lay it down. It’s all about control, you get that, right? There are lots of ways to control people and I’ve found a few. Aaaannnd,” she emphasized, “I’ve found I like controlling people. I like having them do stuff ‘cause I want it, and well, fuck them; it’s all about me. Sorry. But…” She held up her hand as it appeared Melanie was going to say something, “this deal is more complicated ‘cause we’re talkin’ ‘bout taking a freakin’ business over. I need certain people under my thumb, as they say, and it begins with Drew-baby, but the practice is gonna’ start with Chantico. At least
that’s how I want to try it. Are we good?”
Melanie sat digesting this. “Ok, okee-dokey, actually, that makes things a little, um, clearer I suppose, but what are you, uh, going to do to Drew. Or do I want to know?”
Emily laughed out loud at this, and at the look on Melanie’s face. It was the same look students get when they’re asked to dissect something in biology class. “Hey, I said we’re starting with Chantico….”
“And why her again?” Melanie managed to squeeze in.
“’Cause I want to; and ‘cause I want you to watch.”
Melanie sat nodding her head, but not really certain what she had gotten herself into. “I think I need a glass of wine,” she said, rising.
“Hey,” Emily stayed her companion with a raised hand, “Have Chantico bring it in.”
Melanie nodded her head once again and called for the young woman.
“How could this happen?” the distinctive, high voice asked over the cell that Ryland Ross had pressed to his ear.
“Well, sir, it was done cautiously and carefully and thoughtfully and…”
“You’re…sure it was my daughter? Absolutely sure? It doesn’t sound like the work of a child.”
Ross paused for a moment, “She is twenty-two, sir and a business graduate. She clearly understands what she is doing.”
Hawkins sat for a moment. Emily wasn’t a child and he needed to get his head around that, what was wrong with him? “So what is the damage then? Give me all the details.”
“Well, it’s pretty simple sir. Emily and your sister have bought up fifty-one percent of the core company shares between them, which means they control decision making for Documart and the seven other subsidiary companies.”
Hawkins rattled off the names of several firms, “It doesn’t involve those?”
“No sir, it…”
“Then sell them.”
“Um, excuse me sir?”
Hawkins continued, with annoyance in his voice, “You heard me. Liquidate everything else. Put the money somewhere safe; where my daughter can’t get at it. And you are clear that the two women need to work together?”
“Ye-es, sir. If they vote together, they are in control.”
“But they need to work in tandem?” Hawkins persisted.
“Yes, sir. That is correct.”
“I see. I see. Thank you, Ryland. I will be back in Glendale in two days. We will meet in my office at eleven on Monday.”
“Very good sir, We’ll see you then.”
Hawkins sat quietly. It was clear that he had been napping as far as his daughter was concerned; well, that would change. As for the take-over, well, he still had a card or two up his sleeve.
For now he was settled into one of his company’s condos in San Francisco. It was essentially a hotel with a suite, and his two assistants worked to look after his needs, both personal and business. Hwang was out now, securing his meal; Hawkins being a very fussy eater. Winters meanwhile was going through papers. The young man was interrupted by the door chime. In a moment he came into the room Hawkins used as his office.
“The two young women are here, sir.” He said with deference.
Hawkins did not look at him, as he continued to stare at the computer screen, where a young woman was being spanked with a cane. “Thank you, Winters. Send them in.” Even though Hawkins did not like engaging in sex, (too personal) he did like…certain things.
Chantico brought in a bottle of Merlot (California of course) and two nine ounce glasses, setting them on the mahogany and marble coffee table. Emily looked at the girl; probably the same height as her, light brown skin; shiny, thick black hair worn today in two braids down her back; young, innocent and a pretty face. The simple dress she wore did nothing to hide the lovely round curves of her breasts and hips.
As Chantico poured the wine, bending forward slightly, the heavy fullness of the breast facing Emily made her smile; she wanted to grab that breast right there and then and maul it; but she closed her eyes and thought, patience.
“And Chantico, cool name by the way, go grab yourself a glass.”
Chantico looked at the woman who was only a couple of years her senior and asked uncertainly. “Bring another glass?”
“Yes, for you.” Emily smiled and Melanie looked on with interest. “Quick.” Emily commanded and Chantico left, still looking unsure of what was happening. When the girl returned Emily poured her a glass and sat her down on the couch beside her. The girl looked uncomfortable and awkward. With a certain amount of coaxing and prodding, Chantico made it through about half her glass, commenting that she did not ‘drink’ often.
Emily reassured her that it was fine and that a glass of wine now and then was a good thing. The two ‘Hawkins-women’ sipped their wine encouragingly and continued to prod their ‘guest’. By the time her glass was empty, Chantico was looking much more relaxed and had told them her life story in detail.
“So, your family is completely dependent on you, Chantico?” Emily asked, her hand resting protectively
on the girl’s arm, gently stroking it.
“Ummm, yes, that is true. All my money, it goes to my family.”
“But you have no green card yet?” Emily said, innocently, applying a little more pressure as she stroked. Chantico looked with alarm at Melanie; she may have been relaxed but she was not completely drunk; any discussion about immigration brought an immediate reaction.
Melanie smiled a friendly smile, but said nothing. Emily’s hand had now moved to Chantico’s knee and was gently stroking there. Chantico put her own hand over the intruder, but Emily maintained her gentle touch. “I suppose it would be terrible if you were to be sent back?” Emily asked softly, her hand moving slightly up the shapely, brown leg.
The girl looked up with an expression of confusion and concern. What was happening? Why was Ms. Hawkins asking her these things? “Why, um, why would I be s-sent back?” She asked with a tremor in her voice; Emily’s hand was halfway between the girl’s knee and her crotch, the girl’s hand resting on it like a rider.
Melanie had, surprisingly, now moved to the girl’s other side and was holding her right hand; Chantico was squirming slightly, uncertain of what these women wanted or what was happening. She could not be sent back; that would be a disaster. She did not want to offend her employer, which was how she regarded Melanie Downing; she had never dealt with Hawkins.
Chantico didn’t want to speak, not knowing what to say, but the probing incessant hand and the softly stroking hand were arousing her and confusing her. The arousal itself was strange and disturbing.
She was clearly trapped between these two women and her head was spinning and she was very uncomfortable with what they were saying. Melanie poured some more wine for everyone, finishing off the bottle.
“Please Mrs. Downing, I should not. I am already, um,
shaky, um, how you say, spinning.” Chantico protested.
“Nonsense, Chantico, you can’t be rude.” Emily said as she and Melanie released their hold for a moment as everyone drank some wine. Emily then pushed the young woman back so she was against the cushions. As Melanie now held the girl’s hand again, Emily deftly reached under and up and expertly pulled down the girl’s black underpants; Chantico sat frozen, staring with a look of disbelief.
“As long as we are happy with you, Chantico, your job here is safe. You want us to be happy with you, don’t you?” Emily asked in a voice that was sweet and intoxicating, her hand stroking far up Chantico’s thigh. Melanie, surprised and amazed, was more aroused than she had been in years; her last affair with the young golf pro having ended well over a year ago. Since then she had been left to her own efforts, something that she found quite unsatisfactory.
While she had, while pleasuring herself, fantasized about sex with women, just as she had fantasized about being kidnapped and raped by a biker gang, Melanie had never in her life done anything, not even a kiss on the lips, with another girl; yet right now she was feeling unbelievably horny. She slid her hand up Chantico’s right thigh, coming to rest against the thick, curling mass of hair between the girl’s legs.
At this point, Chantico closed her eyes, and Emily covered the girl’s mouth with her own. The two women lifted up the cotton dress and spread the girl’s leg’s revealing just how heavy and luxuriant the pubic growth was. Each woman gently fondled the labia buried beneath the foliage. Chantico meanwhile was moving her hips and making various sounds; moans mixed with whimpers, as Emily continued to engulf her mouth. She stayed in place, though, not bolting and running as Emily feared she might.
However, once one of Emily’s fingers penetrated into the moist inner flesh of her pussy, Chantico sat up and blurted out, “But I’m a virgin,” tears now rolling down
her cheeks, her eyes wide.
“You’re still a virgin, love, this won’t change anything.” Emily spoke softly as she continued to finger the now wet opening. Melanie meanwhile was kissing away the girl’s tears and gently caressing her. Pausing in her work for a moment, Emily lifted the cotton dress over Chantico’s head as Melanie removed the girl’s thin bra.
Then they stood, and with each taking a hand, they led their naked prize out of the room and then up the stairs. They were headed for the second floor and Emily’s bedroom.
Stafford Hawkins watched with interest as girl number two, as he called her, delivered another stinging blow with the leather paddle. Girl number one, the one on the receiving end, was on her knees, hands tied behind her back and her ass now very red. “The tongue,” Hawkins commanded with a quiet but intense voice, and number two bent forward and began to lick the anus of her partner. Number One was attached to a spreader bar, which kept her knees very wide.
Both girls were wearing black masks, jester hats and leather gloves of red and black. They were Harlequins. After watching the licking for several minutes, Hawkins announced, “That will be all.” The girls had been there about an hour. Girl two now untied her partner from the bar and both turned and faced their client on their knees, firm young breasts sitting perkily, nipples erect.
“Thank you,” Hawkins said quietly, handing them an envelope containing fifteen hundred in cash. “You can get dressed and let yourselves out.” The girls looked up with mild surprise; it appeared the man was not going to do anything to them himself.
But then he wouldn’t; Hawkins had not achieved an erection and the thought of the girls actually touching him was repulsive. No, it was the show, and he enjoyed
it. The sex show, done as he desired, and his extensive clown collection, were the only interests beyond his business. Although numerous phobias assaulted his mind.
When Emily woke in the morning, some light was sifting stealthily through a slight separation in the drapes. She glanced to her right at the clock; six-thirty. She glanced to her left and was surprised to see Chantico was awake and staring at her, like a child, brown eyes wide.
Emily turned and stroked the girl’s face, who closed her eyes in response. Emily then kissed the pouty mouth; the girl responding gently, before opening her mouth and allowing Emily’s tongue in. Chantico’s hand with its long, slender fingers came up and cupped the blonde hair as Emily gently clasped a breast, massaging it.
On the other side of Chantico, Melanie said “Good morning,” very quietly, and squeezed the pussy lips of the girl beside her. It was easier today, as she and Emily had cut and shaved the thick tangle of hair that they had found between Chantico’s legs. There was now a dense, but trimmed, dark triangle just above the fat, grey-purple labia, which Melanie was now caressing.
“What is it?” Emily quietly asked the pretty, brown face.
“I need to get things started for breakfast, Miss M. Mr. Downing usually is down for seven.”
Right. Drew. Fuck. They had completely forgotten about him. Had he even come in last night? His room was on the third floor and they were on the second, but they had heard nothing.
But then, they had been making some noise themselves. Wonder if Drew-baby heard us? Emily pondered.
Da Costa, Downing and Ross sat around the small table in Ryland’s office. Hawkins was back today and would meet all three, starting with Ross at eleven. They were making sure all were on the same page.
“So he instructed you to, um, sell, all of these?” Downing asked, looking at his iPhone screen, adjusting his glasses, then glancing at Da Costa; then back to Ross.
Ross nodded his round head and placed one hand over the other on the table. “Yes, and then sent me a text. He wants these turned into cash and invested, ‘where Emily can’t get at them,’ to quote the man.”
“How is it that the two women were able to acquire so many shares?” Da Costa asked. There had been a breakdown and she wanted to get out in front of it, which meant finding someone to be the fall guy. It wasn’t going to be her.
Ross rubbed his chin and carefully picked a miniscule piece of lint from his tailored trousers, before explaining that both women had in the past received shares from Hawkins on special days, and then had carefully bought blocks of shares not significant enough to raise flags, over time and all under holding companies. By the time the transactions had raised concerns with financial (Drew squirmed slightly; he knew both Da Costa and Ross would throw him under the bus if need be), it was too late to intervene.
“Shareholders can sell below five percent of total without any notice or approval, Carman. That’s the way it is. And that’s how it was done.”
So, Carman pondered, she was really number three on the ‘who missed it list’. Let the two of them argue it out; she would sit by and watch. “Interesting.” She said, settling herself in.
Ross; however, looked over at Da Costa. “He wants you to go talk to her.”
Da Costa looked at Ross’s shiny head before asking, “Talk to whom?”
“The daughter.” Ross said evenly.
“Talk to her, to do what, exactly?” Carman asked. “Drew here lives with them, why isn’t he doing this? That would make sense.” Downing squirmed again; he found his niece Emily extremely intimidating, and tried to avoid her almost as much as Stafford did.
“I do not the rules make, my dear. Ours is not to question why, etc. etc. He wants you to meet with Emily this week. I’m sure he will explain more at um, your meeting.”
Da Costa just sat, quietly tapping her fingers on the polished table.
Ivy Prendergast was just collecting her things. The area across from her was empty now, all the staff gone home. Carman Da Costa came quietly up behind her, slipping her arms around the imposing woman and grasping those large, inviting breasts. Prendergast reacted with a start and then chuckled.
“Plans for tonight, big girl?” Da Costa whispered up into the right ear.
“Oh yeah, big plans, girl yourself. Home. Dinner. Television. It’s gonna be a wild one.”
Da Costa smiled at that. She had dodged a bullet today and felt like celebrating; she had convinced Hawkins to have Downing meet first with Emily.
As for tonight, turning Prendergast’s substantial buttocks pink was something that always made Da Costa feel good. “I’m going to pick up some Thai on my way home. I’d love to get enough for two.” She purred.
“Two…big girls, by any chance.”
“Two hot as Hell girls; one who I think has been a naughty thing. I think Daddy needs to bring out his paddle tonight, hmmmm?” Carman ran her tongue up the side of Prendergast’s long neck.
Prendergast moaned, shuddered and rubbed her rear into Da Costa’s groin, as her breasts were being squeezed like over-ripe melons. “Ummmm, naughty girls do need
their punishment,” she sighed.
Both women chuckled.
“So last night was good, hey Mel?” Emily said, lying on the couch in the main loving area. It was a large room with a huge stone fireplace in the centre, opening to both directions. They no longer used wood; natural gas had been installed years ago, but the fireplace had an old world charm. Large windows faced the street but the heavy drapes were closed.
Melanie was in an armchair and Emily on the couch. Chantico was making dinner for Drew who was home tonight; he had not been home since Emily arrived, it turned out, staying in one of the apartments the company owned near their office building. It said something that no one had known he was not here.
Melanie smiled, last night had been wonderful, both for her and Chantico, and she said as much.
“Why didn’t you tell me Chantico was Catholic and her family was so religious?” Emily continued.
Melanie sipped a little wine. “Never thought of it. I’m kind of clueless at times, I guess. I agree with you that she is very good looking, and what a body; jumpin’. You and her are almost twins.” Melanie enthused.
Emily snorted. “Yeah, apart from her being brown and me white. And me, covered in tattoos and her, frightened of being touched.”
Melanie had to laugh at that. “Yeah, yeah, but your bodies are so similar is what I meant. Your height, your, well…everything.”
“Our tits and asses you were going to say.”
“I never say; that. Stuff.” Melanie responded.
They were silent for a moment. Then Melanie began, cautiously, not sure she wanted to know what she was asking. “So, Drew is home at last. Wow, didn’t even
know he hadn’t been sleeping here for a few days. Damn. Anyway, he wants to talk to you.”
“Sure.” Emily replied. “I want to talk to him; to start with.” She smiled.
“What, um, what are you planning, Em? Do I need to make myself scarce?”
“Only if you want to. Drew-baby and I are going to face-to-face, like; and then I’m going to offer him a choice; are you good if he decides to, like, leave, you know, for good?”
Melanie sat in thought. Was she good? Actually she was.
“Yes, Em. I’m good with whatever happens.” Melanie reflected. “I’ve had the occasional affair over the years, you know; and he does whatever he does. We’ve just been playing roles for a long time, hey? Like I wear my wife mask and he wears his husband one, when required.” She paused. “Drew and I have been pretending for a long time.”
“I know.” Emily said quietly.
(End of Chapter 02)