Meet Me in St. Louis Ch. 08

With Franklin banished, Lady Cynthia, Petra and Burke were free to move into Aunt Emily's house, which was next door to the Soulard House. Cynthia and Charlotte had agreed that the latter should move into the main suite at the House where she would remain in charge. Charlotte was a little surprised, but she was getting used that with Cynthia, who had suggested they have a "business" meeting to discuss "strategy."

Burke brought the figures, which showed that Emily's was making a handsome profit, which simply made Charlotte wonder why a meeting was necessary.

"Well," Cynthia said, "we face a number of challenges. Though we saw off Franklin and you saw off Detective Kelly, we can't expect to remain free of predators. We operate on the margins, and from what you have said, both mobsters and bootleggers may show an interest in taking us over. I'd like us to discuss what we can do. The second challenge is the welfare of our girls. Most of them work here because it is preferable to a bordello run by men, but some are lesbians. The former may be able to look forward to finding a husband, the latter cannot; so what are we doing to help our girls for the future? Looking at the profits, I want to suggest we give our girls a five percent pay rise - but put that extra money into an account for them so they build up a nest egg. Anything else?"

Charlotte, Burke, Petra, Grace, and Deborah were, in Cynthia's eyes, her board of directors, and she wanted to make sure that all views were taken into account. Inevitably it was Grace who sounded a dissenting note.

"Why give the girls money only to take it away? Why only five percent? As to the mob, we can deal with them as we did with Franklin and Kelly."

"Perhaps, Cynthia, you could say more?" Charlotte asked.

"The five percent goes into an account in each of their names so that, when they retire, they will have some money. I am proposing we allocate another five percent to working with local businesses to help train our girls for future occupations. That way, we not only establish good links locally, but we also show our girls there is a future for them."

"What are we, a fucking charity?" Grace spat out. "Our girls are the dregs and to the dregs they will return. We should be building up our own bank accounts - we don't all have your privilege, Cynthia."

Petra and Charlotte both looked at Cynthia, as though they were expecting her to fight back.

"You are right, Grace."

"Good, so we can move on then?" Grace snarled.

"You are right, you don't have my privilege. You would be right about what will happen to the girls if we do nothing, which is why we are going to do something. Moreover, from the business point of view it makes sense. Happy girls make for happy clients. Happy girls help us recruit. Retired girls will eventually give us more supporters in the community. We are building this for the long term. So, on the money, Grace dissents - anyone else have anything to say, or shall we take a vote?"

"A vote," Charlotte suggested.

Only Grace dissented,

And so it was that Lady Cynthia established a business model that enabled Emily's to thrive. Women who worked in the bakeries and the seamstress business acquired skills which served them well once they moved on into married life, something made even easier by the fact that they brought some money with them. Some ended managing their own establishments and trained and employed the next generation of Escorts. Emily's became so well known as a place that looked after its girls that it did, as Cynthia predicted, attract the envious attention of other sex joints. Which was why it was a good job they had prepared for it.

"What are our options, Charlotte, you know this scene and city?"

"You're right, Cynthia, we dealt with local threats like Franklin and Kelly, but if one of the big players in the Mob tries to take us down, we'll be in trouble."

"We could hire our own muscle," Grace said.

"Sure," Burke added, "but isn't it as likely that our own muscle would want to take us over? Where does it stop?"

"Charlotte," Cynthia intervened before Grace could fire back, "who are we dealing with in terms of the bootlegging?"

"Joe Mariano is the capo, why?"

"I presume he appreciates what we do for him?"

"Yes, why?"

"Could you set up a meeting as soon as possible?"

"I will, but why?"

"Just an idea," Cynthia smiled.

Amanda asked Charlotte later what she thought Cynthia was doing to do.

"I am not sure, that girl plays her cards close to her chest."

"Well," Amanda laughed, "she has the tits for that! I have to say I prefer your tits. How would Diana like a break from her labours?"

"I have been very idle as Diana since Cynthia turned up. I guess I wasn't sure if I'd have a future."

"Well you do now, so why not come and relax before lunch?"

"You want sex now?"

"No, I want you now, Charlotte."

Thrilled at Amanda's passion for her, Charlotte kissed her, allowing her lover to press her against the wall as her hands fumbled at her dress, sliding up until she could feel Amanda touching her already wet panties. She could hardly even gasp as Amanda's tongue was as busy exploring her tongue as her hands were the contents of her panties.

Hardly knowing where she was, Charlotte felt her back against the wall, her panties yanked down and then Amanda's fingers in her. Feeling like a whore, she pushed herself down, clenching, wanting, needing, loving it as Amanda pushed in and made her stand on tip toe. She felt herself melt, wanting her lover to take her hard and fast.

Amanda had not been sure that Charlotte was ready to go this far with her. Still only half believing that she liked being under her control, Amanda was exploring, but with each step, it seemed like they were moving in the same direction - the right one for them both. She had come to the house as a maid, but it seemed, no it was more, it was a fact, that Charlotte enjoyed her taking control. The way she was clenching on her fingers told its own story.

Whether it was the suddenness, or the vigour with which Amanda's fingers were taking her, or whether it was the thrill of the passion she evinced, or whether it was a mixture of all of them, Charlotte could not hold back, and to her amazement, found herself climaxing on her lover's fingers.

If Charlotte was orgasmic, Amanda was ecstatic. All her life she had been in subordinate, even subservient positions, and now someone as high and mighty as Charlotte was submitting to her. Grace had been right; she was another Mrs Kurtz. Time to put it to the test.

"How was that Charlotte?"

Gasping, Charlotte looked at Amanda.

"Wonderful, Amanda, so wonderful."

Amanda felt a rush of adrenaline.

"And now I want you to service me, Charlotte."

She immediately sank to her knees, pushing Amanda's skirt up and, pulling her panties down, she kissed her bush, smelling her arousal, the evidence of which she could see smeared on the panties she was pulling off.

It was Amanda's turn to lean against the wall, holding her skirt with one hand and Charlotte's head with the other. As her Mistress's tongue began to work its magic on her sex, the already aroused Amanda gasped, pushing herself onto Charlotte's mouth.

The roughness of Amanda's bush against her face, the taste of he on her tongue, the forcefulness with which she was pressing into her, all made Charlotte wet again, she could feel her own passion rising with Amanda's.

"Finger me, now, now, do it!"

Charlotte curled two fingers up into her lover, which made her moan louder. As she pressed down on her fingers, Charlotte licked and sucked whichever parts of her wetness she could reach. Her hand slipped between her own thighs to rub and finger her own sopping wetness. When the inevitable happened and Amanda came hard, so did Charlotte, her face and dress soaked with Amanda's juices.

Calming down, Amanda looked at her kneeling lover.

"You came too, didn't you?"

"Oh my goodness, yes, I just had to, I was so wet and needy."

"You look good on your knees, Charlotte."

"It feels natural, Amanda."

"It does, darling," she said, lifting her lover's face up, her hand under her red, wet chin. "You are mine, aren't you?"

"Yes, yes, I am."

The idea came to her, so she did it, she pulled Charlotte's hair.

"You are WHAT?"

"I am, Miss Amanda."

"Does the dominant Diana want to be my submissive girl?"

Charlotte felt herself get wet, a little mini orgasm passing through her.

"Yes, yes Miss Amanda, can I be your submissive girl?"

"This is between us for now, understand?"

"Yes Miss, thank you Miss."

"Stand up darling."

Charlotte did. Amanda hugged her, getting both their dresses soiled with their juice, and not caring.

"I love you, Charlotte."

"I love you too."

With that pledge, their fate was sealed. For a while yet, Charlotte would play the role of Diana with selected clients, but in private, she was Amanda's "girl." She felt a contentment she had never had before.

While Charlotte and Amanda pledged themselves to each other, Cynthia busied herself with preparing for her meeting with Joe Mariano.

Jack Balanchine confirmed what Charlotte had said. Mariano was a thug, but an intelligent one.

"But you won't be able to deal with him as you did with Franklin, Lady Cynthia."

"That's a relief," she said, "as I have quite a different plan in mind."

Mariano had once been a handsome man in the Italian American vein, but in middle age he had run to fat, his striped shirt straining at the buttons, clashing with the wide chalk stripes on his suit; the hair oil would have been excessive if he had twice as much hair. But he still carried the charisma which, along with brutality and ruthlessness, had won him his commanding position among the mobsters of St Louis.

On seeing the two women he rose and kissed their hands:

"A pleasure to meet you again, Diana," he said, using Charlotte's professional name, "and this delightful young beauty must be Lady Cynthia. My pleasure."

"Mine, too, Mr Mariano."

"Oh do call me Joe. This is my deputy, Al. Can I order you some tea?"

"That would be kind of you, Joe," Lady Cynthia said.

Thus, over tea and petit fours, they got down to business.

"I wanted to meet you, Joe, because I am told you are the capo dei capi here. As I am now running the Soulard House, I thought it right to pay my respects."

"That's wise of you, Cynthia, as Diana will have told you, I make a good friend - but a bad enemy."

"We should not want that, Joe, after all, we are a group of women and I know that Italian men like to protect women."

Joe smiled at Al with a look that said: 'we're going to have this broad eating out of our hand.'

"We do, we do, and I'm glad you see that."

"We do, Joe, and that's why we're happy to continue to let you use the tunnels for your bootlegging. I did wonder, though, whether an underground club might appeal to you?"

"That sounds good. We'd be interested. What would your stake be?"

"Nothing, Joe, consider it a quid pro quo for a good relationship. We could even supply some of the staff."

Joe's grin was that of a man who knew things were going his way.

"But, Cynthia, why would we not just take over your business anyway?"

"Two reasons Joe. The first is that we are not in competition with you and run it better than you would. The second is that your own business model has one fatal weakness."

Charlotte and Al looked as surprised as Joe. Cynthia looked unruffled, smiling angelically.

"Whaddya mean?" Joe said, slipping into the colloquial tone which came more naturally to him.

"Well, Joe, as I am sure you know, all businesses have to pay tax and can be subject to Federal Investigation by the IRS. Our business keeps scrupulous books, but how can I put this - would you like yours to be looked at by the IRS? I ask because we have good contacts with the Feds. We can use that to help you, or we could do the opposite - if, that is, we felt threatened."

Joe's mouth literally fell open. This broad was threatening him. The IRS was not an organisation he could hope to bribe or coerce.

"But of course, Joe, being protected by you, we would always use that influence to assist you. I only mentioned the other option in the context of explaining why you would not want to take over our business. Capice?"

"Si, si, but of course. I think we can work well together, Cynthia."

"Oh Joe, I do hope so. I have always thought Italian men so strong and powerful, and I think that we can have a fruitful partnership. You will, of course, tell lesser men than you that we have your protection?"

With a broad smile and a wave of his hand, Joe said:

"You have my word of honour."

The rest of the meeting passed by without incident, and when Joe and Al had gone, Charlotte looked at Cynthia.

"Do we have contacts with the IRS?"

"No, of course not, but Joe does not know that. In any event, we can simply log a complaint to them via the Governor or Congressman."

"How on earth did you think of that?"

"I'm amazed your legal authorities don't appear to have cottoned on to it. Joe, like the others, launders money through legal businesses, but I bet the paper trail and the taxes paid would not withstand investigation."

"I wish booze was legal, Cyn, you are a bloody genius, this deserves champagne."

"We can get that later. But I have another topic I want to discuss Charlotte."

"You do?"

"I do. You and Amanda."

For the nth time since she had met the petite Englishwoman, Charlotte wondered at Emily's statement that the English upper classes seldom said what they thought outright.

"Isn't that our business?"

"Yes and no. What you and Amanda do is your business; it becomes mine when it may have an effect on our business."

Colouring and feeling under pressure, Charlotte asked how that could be.

"Charlotte, I am far from being a stranger to submissive instincts, and I can see that is what you are becoming, Amanda's submissive. Am I wrong?"

Blushing furiously, Charlotte admitted the charge.

"You need somewhere to relieve the strains, don't you, Charlotte?"

"You know I do. Don't you?"

"On occasions. But there is one thing I am wary of."

"What's that?"

Suddenly looking sternly at Charlotte, Cynthia answered:

"Had Amanda become more controlling lately?"

"That's our business!"

"Just answer me!"

For a moment their eyes locked. Charlotte saw in Cynthia's the steel she had shown in making Mariano back down. She could not resist.

"She has. Why?"

Cynthia looked into Charlotte's eyes. She then told her about the episode with Grace and Mrs Kurtz the previous day.

"I am sure that Grace was hoping to put me under her spell. I am sure Amanda loves you and wants to do what is best for you both, but I am wondering whether Grace may be at work here too? If she could get control over both of us, the business is hers."

Charlotte was dumbstruck. She was sure Amanda loved her, but could it be possible that Grace was using her for her own ends? Cynthia seemed to have an instinct for these things.

"Amanda loves me, she would never let Grace do that?"

"And how hard would it be for Grace to give Amanda 'tips' on how to dominate you and for her to think Grace was just being helpful?"

"Easy, I guess. So you don't think that Amanda is involved with Grace? Are you sure about Grace?"

"No and no. I am sure that if Grace is up to something, Amanda is the innocent dupe. Will you allow me to investigate?"

Charlotte felt herself shake and was grateful when Cynthia put her hand in her own hand and held it.

"I understand, Charlotte, we are alike. I am not going to come between you and Amanda."

Petra and Fred were delighted at the outcome of the meeting with Mariano.

"You are a good businesswoman, Lady Cynthia," Fred said.

"Nonsense, I am just a cunning little vixen," Cynthia giggled.

"Darling Cyn," Petra looked at her meaningfully. "Fred and I want to be together, do we have your blessing?"

"You want to get married?"

"Well, engaged in the first place, but yes. Are you okay with that? You are, after all, our employer."

"I am also your friend and want the very best for you both, so yes, yes a thousand times."

Petra hugged her former lover and whispered:

"You're the best!"

As the House got ready for the evening, Cynthia saw Deborah and smiled at her.

"Thank you, Ma'am," Deborah said.

"What for darling?"

"For letting me please you. That's why I wear this collar, of course, one of the signs to show I am for use by Mistresses. I am just pleased you want me."

Cynthia had noticed the choker, but thought it was just a piece of jewellery. Then a thought occurred to her.

"You wear that of an evening, don't you? Do you have any other 'signs' when you are work?"

"Oh yes, Ma'am, Miss Grace makes sure of that."

Cynthia's heart beat a little faster.

"What other "signs" do you have then?"

"Well, Ma'am, I am supposed to be getting ready, so if you want to come to the room, you can see."

Grace was already in the room, and looked surprised to see Cynthia, but made a swift recovery.

"Do you need time with her before she gets ready Cynthia?"

"No, but as you know, I am trying to learn more about the business, and Deborah told me a little about the 'signs,' she wears. I thought I'd like to know more."

Grace grinned inwardly. She had known it, this bitch was like Charlotte, she had a hankering towards submission, well, if she wanted to know more, perhaps she'd end up wanting to be another 'subby?'

"Some of our women are the opposite of Mrs Kurtz, they crave control, so I like to make what I call the 'subbies' distinctive. I will show you with Deborah. Strip, you slut!"

"Yes, Miss Grace."

Cynthia could not deny the thrill that shot through her, nor the pleasure she took in the unveiling of Deborah's curvaceous body.

"Adopt the position, slut!"

Deborah opened her legs wide, so they were parallel with her shoulders, leaving her long lips dangling for all to see. Her nipples were hard. She put her hands on her head.

"Now, Cynthia, the first thing is to rouge her nipples to emphasise that they are available to her Mistresses."

So saying, Grace was as good as her word. Cynthia admired Deborah's self-control as Grace applied rouge to her lips. She could see that her large nipples were stiff; she could feel her own much smaller ones stiffening.

"Now turn, slut!"

Deborah turned, obedient to Grace's commands.

"Bend!"

Cynthia drew a deep breath as Deborah bent forward, her bum taut, her dark hole winking at her.

"Now this," Grace said to Cynthia, "is a transfer which will wash off."

She applied it to the base of Deborah's spine. It read: "bitch for use."

Grace looked at the clearly aroused Cynthia. She would, she thought, soon be wearing the same transfer, so would Charlotte.

"See, so now anyone looking at her will know. Put your cut out top on and your panties, and stockings and go to the main room - now!"

"Yes Miss Grace. Thank you, Miss Grace."

Cynthia drew a deep breath. The Deborah of fifteen minutes earlier was deferential and slightly submissive; this Deborah was in another mental space altogether.

"Mrs Deville is waiting for you, be a good girl and do as she tell you."

"Yes, Miss, I will!"

And with that off Deborah went.

"You see how effective that is, Cynthia? It gets Deborah into the mood, and her clients enjoy her all the more."

"That I see. I also see that you enjoy it. What mood does it get you into?"

"Well I have a few submissive ladies tonight, and I like to get myself in that zone where I can give all these well-bred ladies what they need."

"And what is that?"

"The mood to submit to a piece of gutter trash like me."

"Interesting."