Bread and Honey

"No, that's not possible."

"It is possible. I could have had you killed. I even considered it. So now, do you believe me? Am I still your fucking Queen now?"

"Yes. Yes I believe you, and yes, you're still my fucking Queen. And I don't think you're a murderer. My guess is that guy, that pimp, had it coming. If his brother killed him, he was screwy in the first place. All you can do with your power is bring out the true person. I'm the only guy in the world who really understands you. Even you don't get it."

"You want to do something for me? Kill me. Your Queen commands it. Just kill me. I don't have the guts to do it myself. I'm serious. It's my one weakness -- I'm too strong to be able to kill myself."

"Oh Lee, please don't talk like that. I couldn't live without you."

"So then you have to die too."

"I don't want to die. But I would kill myself if I couldn't be near you. My life is in your hands."

"I can't destroy any more lives. Just go, Richard."

"Okay, I'll go. For now. But not until you hear my offer. I'm no good with assisted suicide, but what I am good with, is money. So listen: I want to buy back your ancestral house for you."

"Oh, Richard, I wasn't serious when I said --"

But Rich continued, thinking out loud, talking out the finances:

"I figure, after all your bills are paid, you'll have at most two million in assets. My place in Beverly Hills is worth around five mill, I can sell that real easy. But we're still about twenty million short. So, we go get investors. The National Trust. English Heritage. Yes. We both have a lot of wealthy contacts, good for at least another ten mill. The Princesses, I can persuade them to come in, Claudia needs to add something in the UK to her portfolio. She's worth a couple million, at least. And Cat, she's perfect. If people know she's involved, it'll be easy pappy. We'll be turning them away."

"Richard, I don't know if you've gone completely crazy. Please stop."

"No, it's not crazy. I'm talking about a theme park."

"A theme park?"

"Yes. It's like a Downton Abbey. People pay to sample authentic life in a real aristocrat's country house. Rich people can come and be treated like guests of the household. But other people come and work there for free, as servants. Chambermaids, Gardeners, Kitchen staff. No wage costs. Like with the fucking kibbutz in Israel, they get all this free labour from all these piss-poor bum students who want to sample Communism. No wages to pay, no tax to pay.

And we can throw festivals, get school history trips... wildlife conservation people..."

"Oh Richard, you're..."

"What? What am I?"

" You're such a bloody Jew."

"Thank you."

The Queen Was In The Parlour

Rich ran up the broad steps, two at a time, his pigskin slippers flapping loudly on the marble. He cradled the fluttering candle in his hand from the breeze. Fuck if he knew how freezing this place got in the winter without central heating he wouldn't have started this whole damn thing.

He knew that once Cat was on board, the rest was easy. And he knew that she, and all the others, Claudia, Joe, all of them would get in the act, because, hey, this is business. And he had put together such a brilliant plan that nobody said no.

Lee kept away from everyone. But that didn't matter, the guests and staff knew that the crazy aloof recluse, the Mistress of the house, she was actually here, in one of the gazillion rooms. They'd point and nudge each other when she made her appearance in the herb garden or rode her favourite dappled mare, or went down on a rare visit to the laundry room with a special request to fix one of her garments.

Verisimilitude. That was the buzz word while the project was put into action.

There was to be no electricity, no Wi-Fi, no phones. Communication was strictly by voice, face to face, or by post. No medicines to be brought in, except on doctors orders. No plastic! Leave your credit cards, your sportswear, your roll-on deodorant at home. No A/C, and no damn radiators!

And people flocked. Rich turned down fifty times as many people as he accepted. And each guest, each staff member, was personally vetted by Lee, or by her trusted housekeeper, Mrs Jones, who came highly recommended by a certain Royal family. No, they didn't take anyone's money. Billionaires fumed at being rebutted, when their increasingly outrageous bribes to stay at Oakhurst Manor were turned down. Movie stars lucky enough to stay there would brag about it when they got back to their twenty-first century lives.

And all this with no publicity whatsoever, except for Cat's blog.

Richard reached his Lady's door and knocked four times. Not too loudly, not too quietly. After keeping him waiting for five seconds she called to him, granting him entry to her bedchamber.

She was sitting up in bed, propped up against four giant pillows, in a turquoise and red Chinese silk nightshirt. Her hair was loose. She put down her book beside her.

The room was warm, all reds and oranges and glowing yellows, lit mainly by the fire, but also by many candles in tall candlesticks. The logs threw sparks and crackled in the fireplace. She had heated sweet-scented amber and neroli oils, and Rich suddenly felt as though he were back in a prayer cell. But her intoxicating power here was many times greater than it ever was in The Hive. Here was her place, her true domain.

She patted the side of the bed." Come here Richard."

"Thank you." He sat, and gazed at the glowing fire.

"Are you scared of me? Now that I'm finally letting you into my bed, you're shy."

"No. No I'm not shy. I'm thinking. I've imagined every inch of you, every pore of your skin, the sweet taste of your juicy pussy. I know every eyelash on your porcelain eyelids. I've travelled the infinite space inside the ocean of your eyes. I've felt the rolling curves of your waist, over the smooth, firm, muscles of your ass, down, around, up between your velvet thighs. I've kissed your neck a thousand times, felt our tongues entwined like two snakes.

"I've touched your womb, deep inside you, my strong and sturdy cock gripped tightly in the wet fist of your womanhood. I've rested my arms on you, and felt your breath on my armpits, inhaling me as you envelop me in your arms, your legs, your pussy. I've sucked at your pink nipples, and rolled them and nibbled on them. Night and after night, day after day, since that first day.

"Golly!"

Rich burst into laughter.

"'Golly'?" After that damn speech? That's all you can say?

"Well, it was a bit unexpected!"

"Not for me it wasn't."

"Well it was lovely. Now can I make a speech?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Here it goes: Fuck me, big boy!"

Rich collapsed with laughter on the floor.

Lee adjusted the eiderdown." Short and to the point. That's what I prefer."

"Okay. Big boy's gonna fuck you, potty-mouth. Is this big enough for ya?"

"Oh my. Really. I had no idea. I want it."

"You're gonna get it. Move over."

"No. I want it. Here." She pointed to her parted lips.

She kneeled on the bed and pulled him towards her. She clamped her lips over the bell of his dick and sucked. Real suction, pumping ever more blood into him. He felt as if his dick would explode and spatter blood everywhere.

"Holy shit..."

She pulled away, brushing a hair from her mouth." Yes. I'm pretty good, aren't I."

"Yes you are, aren't I..."

"Mmm. On your back."

He crawled quickly onto the bed and lay down. She straddled his head." Now. My turn. Don't let me reach orgasm." She pushed herself forcefully down onto him, her pelvic bone hard against the bridge of his nose.

And then Rich finally tasted her pussy. It was like nothing he'd imagined. In fact altogether she was like nothing he'd imagined. Not a regal queen, but a dirty sexy woman with a filthy mind. Filthier than the filthiest hooker he'd been with, sly and irresistible like the most deadly femme fatale. And to top it all, as funny as hell.

Sweaty, dirty, sex. He came, for the first time, in her tight fist. The second time, deep in her pussy, pumping her from behind, her cool ass cheeks pushed against his belly, gripping and mangling her little tits till they were all scratched up.

And then, finally, they fucked, lips to lips, chest to chest, arms pressed out against each other, thigh on thigh. And he her touched her womb, deep inside her, and their orgasms shook them and made them cry out, loud, long and low.

Later Richard stood by the fire, some distance from her, supreme contentment and love in his heart.

"This is what I dreamed, my Lady, and now it's become reality. Or is this still a dream?"

For answer, Lee crawled slowly out of the bed. She walked to him, her naked body flickering gold, lit by the flames. She held out her arms perfectly straight outwards, smiled serenely, and closed her eyes.

"Watch."

She stood up on the tips of her toes. Then, slowly, silently, she floated up, an inch, a foot, a yard above him.

He fell to his knees.