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A Gathering of Clowns by LongDarkRoad Chapter 6 As Jokers Come In Varied Design

A Gathering of Clowns

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 6 As Jokers Come In Varied Design

Tad Allan pushed his big machine over sixty-five; it was so hard to hold it back. And tonight he was feeling especially good and wanted to fly.

He couldn’t believe his relatives had come through; his mom had been convinced that it was a hopeless cause. And now here he was hiring directors and casting officers. And right now he was on his way to talk with the woman he wanted for the main female role: Giselle St. Martin; a sensuous twenty-six year-old redhead who he had met a few years back, and who had just completed her third film, albeit not in the leading role or even a leading role.

But Tad felt she was the one and he hoped to have her under contract before the weekend was over. He turned south now and headed for Sunset Blvd. and ‘The Boulevard Club’; Giselle had recommended it.

****

Before heading out for dinner with Carman, Emily checked in on Downing, who was kneeling on the carpet when she entered his room. As instructed, he wore only a T-shirt. Emily had him report from his knees, so she heard about the nine million for Georgia and Tad Allan, which of course she already knew of. She knew of the pending sale of one company, what Carman was looking after. And, as with Carman’s comments, her father did not seem to have any great plans to shut down or take off.

“Fine, slave,” she commented as he licked her expensive Wascal dress shoes. “I will see you tomorrow, but Chantico will check on you later.” She turned and walked out and because of Downing’s position, she had not noticed his erection. Downing fondled it now, while remaining on his knees.

****

“Giselle,” Tad exclaimed as the tall redhead made her way through the crowded bar.

“Tad,“ she exclaimed in return, making it to his table. They embraced briefly and he looked at her. “Fuck, you’re hotter than ever.”

She smiled up at him, “And you still look like you should be in a toothpaste commercial. I should have my shades on, dude.” They laughed.

“I’ve ordered Margaritas,” Tad said as they settled, the frosty drinks before them.

“Mmmmm, excellent, ‘Tadkins’. Remember I used to call you that?”

“I do,” Tad grimaced, “and I remember calling you some things as well.” Giselle put her head back and laughed. They then toasted each other and drank.

“Hey, that’s great. So, what’s the deal? You sounded excited on the phone.” Giselle began.

“I’m always excited when I talk to you, Hot Lips.”

“Hey, you said you weren’t going to call me that anymore.”

“Ok, then what’s with the Tadkins?”

“Ok. Ok. Truce. Names will be put away. Down to business. Over to you, Tad.” She smiled, showing she had toothpaste-commercial-worthy chompers as well.

“Well, we’ve sent a script to Marty….”

“When?” Giselle interrupted.

“Earlier this afternoon.”

“Shit,” she exclaimed, “that’s why Marty has left me four messages I’ve ignored.” She pulled her cell and stood up, walking back and forth and gesturing with her hands as she spoke. When she ended the call, she sat down with a look of excitement on her face.

“A movie, Jesus, Tad, what the Hell? Marty says the script is great. He’s happy with the numbers you threw at him and says we should sign the fucking contract.

Wow!”

Tad raised his glass, “To you; you’re the first one I thought of to play Anne-Marie. You’ll kill it.”

“So, man, this makes me pretty grateful, Tad Allan. Right out of the blue and after three years you come around and bring an offer. Again wow, and thanks.”

Tad smiled at the attractive woman, one of the few who had managed to resist his charms over the years. Try as he could, and he had tried, he had not been able to get her in bed. “So, Giselle, just how grateful are we talking here?” he asked with a smirk.

She smiled back with a look in her eye, “Oh, pretty grateful, Tad. This could really set me up; and the money is very good. So, yeah, quite grateful.” She waited.

Tad’s smile had not left his face. He continued, “So, on a scale from hand job to full anal, what are we talking here, grateful-wise?”

Giselle laughed, “Oh my, my, Tad my lad, you are persistent, if nothing else. But now you’ve got aces, rather than the usual jokers you hold.”

Tad laughed out loud at the reference. The two of them used to play a lot of cards; Giselle was amazingly good at Texas Hold ‘Em, which was their game of choice. She had, as Tad noted, ‘kicked his ass’ on more than one occasion.

Looking back, his time with Giselle and the gambling was the beginning of the series of financial losses that he (and his mother) were dealing with now. “Yeah, it’s nice to be sitting with the hammer.”

A while later they were speeding to Burbank and Marty Summers’s office to sign the contract. As they rolled along, Giselle leaned over and massaged Tad’s groin for a moment, before unzipping his slacks and pulling out his stiffening member.

“You ‘hooded boys’ are a problem.” Giselle commented as she folded back the foreskin on Tad’s cock and began sucking him. At the start Tad had no problem watching the road and enjoying the service, but as Giselle got into it, her lovely red-tinged mouth suctioning his throbbing cock-head while her slender, delicate red-tipped hands stroked his shaft methodically, he found it more and more difficult to concentrate.

Finally, with a quick glance back, Tad directed his vehicle to the side of the road, and not a minute too soon as moments later he cried out his climax, Giselle’s warm mouth consuming his whole load.

Tad rested his head back and laughed softly, “Oh fuck, Giselle. Ummmmm. Ah, Christ that was something…”

Giselle had already flipped the sun visor down and had the mirror open, reapplying her lipstick. “And,” she noted with a smile, “not a drop on your nice leather seats.”

Tad laughed out loud and put the car in drive, quickly joining the traffic and heading to his meeting with Giselle’s agent.

There was no doubt that he would sign this contract.

****

“I’ve arrived; I’m downstairs. Do I need to check in?” Georgia texted her message to Carman as she stood in the Casino Del Sol lobby, feeling more excited than she could remember.

“No. Just come on up. Room 512.” Carman texted back.

Carman was waiting with the door open as Georgia came down the hall. When she entered, Carman took her case and dragged it to the side, then turned back to her. “Welcome, welcome.” She said, embracing the older woman and hugging her. Georgia embraced back and they stood like this for several seconds, before Carman broke free and planted a long kiss on Georgia’s mouth, before saying. “Come and see, we have a great view of the pool.”

“Oh, my God, that’s nice,” Georgia exclaimed, looking down. Carman had come to stand behind her and she was now gently kissing Georgia’s neck while unbuttoning her blouse. Georgia chuckled, “You’re not wasting any time, love.”

“We don’t have much, so no, I’m not wasting a moment.” Georgia sighed deeply as Carman slipped off her bra and gripped her nipples, still kissing her neck and now her shoulders.

“Ummmmm,” Georgia moaned, and then Carman gently pushed her down on one of the king-sized beds.

****

Emily had decided to make use of the modest-sized room on the main floor and across from the kitchen. Originally intended as some sort of informal dining room, it had sat empty all these years. It hadn’t taken much to meet Emily’s current requirements; she had had three large hooks installed in the ceiling beams and a heavy (padded) table built there on site. The hooks and the table could both be used to tie individuals up or down, for punishment (theirs) and pleasure (their mistresses).

Today was the first day Emily had a chance to try things out; with Carman away, the Documart situation status quo and it being Saturday. Right now, wearing only a bra and a strap on dildo, Emily was circling Downing, who was suspended from one of the hooks. He was blindfolded, banded on his testicles, ankles strapped down and with a fat plug stuffed into his anus.

Emily had just spent ten minutes paddling him with both a wooden and a leather paddle; she didn’t really get off on paddling men; she much preferred the round asses of women. And it wasn’t all punishment for Downing, however, as Chantico, naked (even if he could not enjoy the vision) and on her knees, sucking and stroking him. As Melanie had noted, she was very good at this.

Downing had been moaning for a while now, his erection standing like a post. Emily touched Chantico’s shoulder and the woman paused. “Ok, Troy-boy, would you like us to remove the band around your balls?”

“Ohhhh, Gawwwd, Miss M, please, please.” Chantico smiled up at Emily in response to the whimpering, and she made a little ‘cry-baby’ face, with both women giggling quietly. Emily cradled Downing’s now shaved and jam-packed testicles, causing more and louder moaning. “Ooooh, Troy-boy likes his widdleballsies’ wubbed, ummmmm.” Emily bent down and blew gently on them, causing Downing to twist on his hook.

“Ok, pussy-boy, we will undo your Charlies and Chantico’s lovely mouth will bring you relief, would you like that?”

Downing’s groan filled the room. It was really a ‘yes’ but what came out was just, desire. “All you need to do, Drewsie, is tell me the account numbers where Daddy-Dearest has his dough stashed. I’m not going to walk off with anything (yet, she thought), I just need to know. So, what’s it going to be?”

In answer to his garbled response, Emily laughed and told him she had his laptop right there with them. He had already relinquished his password, so the computer was on and ready.

After a few moments of internal struggle, Downing directed Emily to a file within a file, and there she found the eleven bank accounts and the passwords that would open them. She nodded to Chantico who began her work on Downing, after undoing the band. It wasn’t long at all before his ejaculate was arching a path out and away, before falling to the carpet.

Downing then hung from the hook like a slab of beef as Emily and Chantico shared a celebratory kiss.

“Make sure the slave cleans that up,” Emily murmured.

****

Georgia smiled across the table at Carman. They were in the Sunflower Café and had just finished breakfast. “My word, I can’t believe how the time has flown. What time is your flight?”

“Two. We check out at twelve and then I’ll head right to the airport, and you’ll drive home.”

Georgia smiled a whimsical smile, “Well, it’s only a couple of hours back to Phoenix, but it’ll seem longer because I’ll be thinking of you.”

Carman looked thoughtfully at the woman; she liked her, quite a bit really. She would not have guessed at any interest in someone Georgia’s age, especially with what was happening with Emily. But she had enjoyed her time with the woman and, if there was a chance, would get together with her again. “I suppose there’s no way you’d leave Phoenix?” she asked quietly.

Georgia sipped some coffee. “It would be hard.” She chuckled, “If someone had suggested ten days ago that I might consider leaving my home, I would have called them crazy; but that was before I met you.” She looked at Carman and Carman recognized the look, and was okay with what it meant.

One should never disregard love. Or desire.

****

Emily sat on one of the leather chairs outside Ryland Ross’s office. Ms. Prendergast had asked her if she wanted anything and apologised for the wait; Mr. Ross would be right with her. After a minute, the small man, looking dapper in a three-piece-suit, hustled out. Emily looked at him and bit her tongue; she had never seen a man with a true egg-shaped head before, yet there was one before her now.

“My apologies, Ms. Hawkins, you are a few minutes early. Please come in.” He said solicitously, and led the way into his space. “I believe Ivy has asked if you’d like any refreshment? You are good?” He looked up into the exquisite face of his boss’s only daughter.

“Thank you, Mr. Ross. I am fine.” Emily replied pleasantly and took a seat opposite the man’s desk. Ross for his part pulled his chair around so the two would be closer.

“Thank you so much for coming in. I know your uncle and

Ms. Da Costa were able to visit with you at home, but it is difficult for me to get away, so I thank you.” He beamed at her.

“That’s cool, Mr. Ross, ‘cuz you don’t actually work for my aunt and me, right?”

Ross nodded his head gently. “Technically we are on retainer to your father, but we are contracted out to Documart, at least we have been. I guess the first order of business is if you wish to maintain that agreement?”

“What would my, like, options be?” she asked evenly.

Ross scratched his nose thoughtfully. “Wellll, you are free to hire the lawyers of your choosing.”

“And what would happen to you?” She forced down a smile.

Ross grimaced. “We would, well, move out, Ms. Hawkins.”

Emily paused, then asked. “What do you want to do, Mr. Ross?” She smiled a brilliant smile.

Ross looked at her; she was more intelligent than he had imagined, having only seen her in tabloid type news. “I would like to continue working for Documart. We have an understanding of the current situation, and of course, the main business of the company is legal advice by way of our forms. I believe we have done a good service for a company that has grown and prospered over the last few years.” He folded his hands over his slight paunch.

Emily regarded him without rancor; she had no reason to dislike him or his assistants, just because they worked for her father. After all, Carman worked for her father. “You have no issue working for me, after what has, happened?”

“We work for Documart, Ms. Hawkins, and what has happened is business. For now your father remains as CEO. If that were to change then I would reassess my position. For now, I am fine carrying on. I hold no grudge, if that is what you are wondering. I’ve served your father for many years and have seen you grow from a child to a young woman. I truly bear you no ill will. I want you to believe that.”

Ross seemed genuine, although, as a lawyer, he was used to presenting his side of a case. Still, Emily had no reason to get rid of him, not right now at least. She would wait and see.

“You are assisting my father is selling some of his other assets?”

“Yes, that is true, but I work for, um, you, by the case, not the hour. We are now keeping two sets of transactions; your uncle can verify this. The work I do for your father, separate from Documart, is paid for by him. We are keeping close watch.” He beamed again; keeping close watch was obviously important to him.

Emily stood. “Great. I appreciate you making time to see me.” They shook hands formally and Emily turned to go.

“It was very nice seeing you again, Ms. Hawkins. It has been many years. I can’t imagine…that it was always easy to be away.” Ross said quietly.

She turned and looked at the man who again appeared genuine. “Thank you for that.” She paused. “Did you know my mother, Mr. Ross?”

For a moment the placid demeanor broke, barely, and then like a mask returned. “Yes, I knew her. She was a lovely woman. You remind me of her, although you are taller.” They stood for a moment just regarding each other, then Emily smiled, turned and walked out into the reception area. Carman was not in sight and Emily didn’t wish to bring attention by asking for her. She looked around; this was all hers. But, in reality, it would never truly be hers.

That’s ok, she thought. But soon I will be coming back and I will talk to my father; just the two of us.

In his office, Ryland J. Ross tapped his fingers on his desk; he was remembering and considering. Emily Hawkins was no one’s fool.

****

“So, how did it go; I mean, you did meet with that lawyer?” Melanie asked, as she and Emily were on the patio again, enjoying the day before it became too hot.

“Yes, I did.” Emily had her eyes closed and was smoking, meaning Melanie was sitting a little farther away than usual.

“Well? Anything dearie?” Melanie persisted and Emily chuckled, then opened her eyes.

“Why didn’t you just come with me, silly, if you wanted to meet him?”

Melanie dismissed that with a wave of her hand. “I didn’t need to meet him, what’s his name?”

“Ryland J. Ross,” Emily murmured, taking a last long drag and stubbing out her cigarette.

“Well, well,” Melanie smirked, “Ryland J. Of course, I remember the name. He was actually around a fair amount when I first came here. An odd looking man…”

“An egg.”

“A what?”

“He looks like an egg. At least his head does. He is an egg with legs, I guess.” Emily chuckled.

“So what did you talk about. And I really didn’t need to be there. You’re the spy girl. So tell me, anything?”

Emily sat up. “He’s a lawyer. He works for Daddy-kins, so put that together and you don’t get much. He and his staff still work for us, well, Documart, which is you and me and the Father. I don’t see the point in getting rid of him right now. But really, it was just, as they say, business.” They sat for a moment in thought. “I did ask him, about my mother.”

Melanie looked with interest at her niece. “And?”

Emily pondered. There was something in Ross’s reaction that, interested her. Perhaps it was just memory. “What’s the guy called who hangs around with the King; keeps things happy or merry or whatever?”

“A jester, why?”

“Yeah, that is what I was thinking. Ross is kinda’ Daddy-dear’s jester. Distracts you. Keeps you occupied. In the background the king is plotting away.”

Melanie laughed. “Sounds like a soap opera.”

“Hmmmm,” Emily commented, but at that moment Chantico arrived to tidy up the dishes from their meal, pausing for a moment as Emily’s hand slid up under the light dress she was wearing. Chantico closed her eyes as her mistress’s fingers probed. Emily then stood up, “Excuse me auntie dear, but I do need to borrow this girl,” and laughing, she and Chantico went inside.

****

“So, how did it go with my…daughter?” Hawkins asked, as he and Ross were in his office; Hawkins as usual facing his monitors, Ross sitting in a chair in front of the desk.

Ross smiled at the back of Hawkins’s head. “She plays her cards close to her vest; family trait I think. She hasn’t decided what to do with me but is intelligent enough to know it’s better to keep me on, for now. I have no intention of doing anything against the company, sir. I want you to know that.”

Hawkins paused for a moment. “I understand and would never expect, sabotage, of any sort my old friend. We will work through this. I don’t see this alliance of my sister and my daughter lasting for ever. I’ve waited things out before. I am a patient man, as you know, Ross.”

Ross nodded his unique head, as Hawkins began again. “But I am interested in what you thought, of her. Any hint of why she is doing, any of this.”

Why do people, especially women, do things? Ross asked himself. The female of the species had always been a mystery to Ross. He had little contact with women beyond his professional duties. Male bath houses were Ross’s one and only pleasure, and he was always highly discreet. Ross was aware of Hawkins own ‘pursuits’ and it had always bothered him. It made his boss vulnerable; Ross himself was far more careful. But as for women…

“Young women aren’t really my, um, strength, sir. Understanding them, that is.”

Hawkins chuckled. No, Ross would not provide much when it came to his daughter. It would be up to Da Costa to do that.

****

“So everything is looking good, dear?” Georgia Allan asked her son.

“Great, mom, really. Can’t believe it.” Tad enthused.

“I suppose you want to say ‘I told you so’?”

“No, no mom, really. It made sense. This…doesn’t make sense. This was a Hail Mary pass; the only thing we had left. So no, I’m not gonna say anything except thanks. Or, thank you, thank you, thank you.” Tad laughed.

Georgia responded with a chuckle herself. It had worked out, so far. “Now, I feel obliged to add that we need to be careful. I’ve already used the two million to set things right here, so we need to budget.”

“I know mom; I promise to stay on top of things, I really do. I will report to you weekly.”

“Thanks dear. And you’re, um, good with everything; you know?” Georgia added.

“I’m clean, mom, I told ya’. I’m good.” Tad paused. “I still can’t figure out how we, you really, pulled this off.”

Georgia sat with a small smile on her face.

****

“So, anything I should know about?” Hawkins asked, sitting in his usual spot.

Carman Da Costa stood where obliged, mask on. “Your daughter has not gone into any more detail. I know she has now met us all. They are secure with their shares; I think they are just waiting, on you, sir. You are the, um, wild card.”

“A joker, Ms. Da Costa?”

She smiled, “I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”

“But my daughter…trusts you?”

Carman stood quietly for a moment. “Yes, sir, she trusts me.”

“Are you surprised at how, things have developed between you two?” Hawkins asked, quietly.

Carman Da Costa was now the tightrope walker; she needed to be very careful. At either end of the stretched rope sat a Hawkins. “Well, we knew of her, sexual activities, sir, if I may. I am a little surprised by her affection for me, things are not purely physical. But, she also has a history of short relationships, so who knows.”

“Then you need to, as they say, make hay while the sun shines, Ms. Da Costa.” Hawkins said, again quietly, observing the woman’s reflection on his nearest monitor. In this instance, the actual surgical mask she wore, on his behalf, proved a barrier. He thought to himself that the next time she was in he would not have her wear it. It really wasn’t necessary; just a game he liked to play. “Thank you, Ms. Da Costa.”

“Good day, sir,” Da Costa murmured and turned to leave. As she did so, Hawkins voice stayed her.

“Remember Ms. Da Costa, I can still cut your strings. A puppet without strings is, just a pile of wood.”

“Understood, sir,” she said, and left.

Hawkins sat with a smile on his face. He reached into his nearest file drawer and took out the photos of Georgia. As he went through them, his smile grew wider. He pressed a button and waited, and in a few moments his door opened and Winters came in, donning a mask. The young man stood behind the line and waited.

“Winters. Anything further on the, um, task, I gave you?”

“Yes sir,” Winters spoke with some excitement in his voice. “I was just waiting for your meeting to finish. I have found someone, as you described.”

“Fifties?”

“Yes, sir. She meets all your criteria.”

“And she is good with, my, em, expectations.”

“Yes, sir, for the fee offered she is good with what you asked.”

“Very good, my lad. You are efficient. Very efficient. Have her at the condo tonight at eight-thirty.”

“Very good, sir.”

(End of Chapter 06)

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