Raine, on her Parade

"Dat right? Yo' concern could put man in his grave. Please, don't worry none for me no more. Don't need it. Don't want it."

"Why do you talk like that?"

"I speak in a way that pleases me. I really do apologise if it doesn't gratify you, in which case kindly fuck off and don' let door hit yer fat, jiggly ass on way out."

She shut up, trying to work out what I'd said through the variety of accents I'd thrown in. I made a mental note to send another bouquet of flowers to my voice coach. She was the best in the business.

Finally, we got to the house. The lift door opened and Rachel stood there quietly, hands clasped in front of her, waiting for me.

I took her hands and just looked at her until she blushed. "Your hair is a little redder. I like it."

"Thank you, sir. I needed it for that last new role, but if you like it..."

"You know there's nothing about you that I don't like. Every single inch is perfect."

She slapped my arm gently, as if to indicate that I shouldn't say things like that, but if I insisted, she wouldn't get too upset. I loved it. She made me smile, and when she smiled, the world lit up at the sight of the dimple in her cheek.

Rachel was often away working, but when we got together again, it always felt as if she'd never been gone more than a day. When she was away, every day felt like a month.

I drew her in for a full body hug and bussed her on the lips. "I've missed you. Can I fire you?"

"You've been away fishing, sir, so I'm sure you can't have missed me that much. And no, you can't. You fired Alicia, and she is so happy she had a little weep on my shoulder. She needs you. You can fire me tomorrow."

This time I kissed her properly. She joined in enthusiastically and then drew back with a disapproving look. "Sir! You can't do that to an employee. I could report you for that."

"Meh," I said dismissively. "You're my full-time heart, but only my part-time employee. Report away. See if I care."

"Behave," she said with another slap to my arm, a secretive little grin on those beautiful lips. She seemed to like the idea she was my full-time heart.

Rachel and I had a strange relationship. She joined me when she wished, usually between films, but not always. I guessed there could be other men, and the paparazzi linked her to everyone from the vice-president to last year's winner of the Indy. If all the reports were to be believed, she was dating fourteen guys at the same time, was out every evening with at least three of them, and had slept with every man and woman on every movie she ever made. One report had mixed her up with one of the characters she played, and essentially had her in a frantic lesbian relationship with herself.

It was all very amusing, and none of those reports touched my heart. No, I hadn't cut myself off emotionally from all women. Rachel and I never promised each other anything, and I don't think we ever would. I would have married her in an instant, but I think somewhere in her past she'd been hurt as badly as I was. I didn't ask, and neither did she. We were happy with what we had, and although she was away for long periods, she would call me and the girls often and stay in our lives from a distance. It worked. I have no idea why she started calling me sir, and herself the housekeeper, although I think the latter gave her a feeling of being grounded -- a vital stability within her life -- where she could be normal and secure within a world where she had to spend months pretending to be everything from an ancient queen to a master thief and spy.

She was the housekeeper, and as such, she'd decided she had to call me sir. The others fell in with my new title with alacrity and great enthusiasm.

At first, I thought this slightly submissive need in such a strong woman was rehearsal for a role she had coming up, but she pooh-poohed that idea. "No, sir. There's no acting needed for this."

I went with it. Enjoyed the fuck out of it, as well.

While she was away, I would fire the other girls on a daily basis, and for that day they were promoted to girlfriend. If I had an event or party to go to, they would partner me, or we would stay at home, like Alicia and I were going to that night.

For some weird reason, Alicia had a thing for pizza, something she could have made with her eyes shut. She liked the whole ritual of ordering it, getting it from the girl who delivered it, and then sharing it with me from the box. I think it came from a happy childhood in Adelaide, or Sydney, or Perth -- somewhere round there; somewhere on that continent, anyway.

Firing the staff before sleeping with them had also been Rachel's brainwave. It started as a silly idea, but quickly became entrenched, and perhaps it did give things a clear status: the need to fire my evening's companion, after arranging a replacement, if necessary, outlined my privileges and responsibilities. I knew how far I could go emotionally with my exquisite staff, and at the same time, let them know that sleeping with the boss was a no-no. They could only sleep with their boyfriend -- which I could only become once they were fired. Each of them knew that we were exclusive within our group for safety reasons. They were working for a tempting target, which became ever-more tempting as I became richer each and every day. The safety of all of us depended on each of them. None of them seemed to want to be fired on a permanent basis, and knew that if they met someone special, they had only to resign. I valued them more than money, and I made sure that we all had a whole lot of fun -- in a whole lot of new places. Whenever I travelled, we all went together.

When Rachel looked over at Raine, I turned slightly.

"Raine, this is..."

"You're... On the movies... You're Rachel..."

"Yes, I know, dear. I have been since I was born. And I know who you are, too. You're sir's ex-wife. Have you any idea what a precarious position you're in right now?"

She turned to me. "And why is she half naked?"

I explained about her dress. Rachel looked at me carefully, and I knew we would be discussing this a little more at a later date.

"Wait there!" she ordered Raine. "Just... Please! Don't take any more clothes off!"

She touched the phone on her ear.

"Alicia, get up to the entrance. Please bring a guest robe with you. Oh, and you're fired as of right now, so make it quick! Before I have to pluck my own eyes out," she finished with a sigh and a raised eyebrow at Raine.

"Rachel," I admonished. "Play nice. Raine came to offer me some money."

She stared at me, astounded. "How much? For what?"

"Five grand. Wants to buy my kids from me."

I saw a dangerous glint come into my little red-head's eyes. She knew how much I loved my kids and how hard I worked to spend time with them.

"You want to buy his children?" she hissed at Raine.

My ex-wife back away a little. Rachel was beautiful, and with the most gentle loving nature. This was Rachel in full protection mode, however. Even I was a little intimidated.

"You think so little of your children?" she asked. "They're your children, too, but that's all you think they're worth; two and a half grand each? If I had any, I wouldn't sell any children of mine for a hundred million. But you value them at the cost of a trip to Disney World?"

"No, it's not like that," whined Raine. "We were trying to help him. We knew he didn't have any ... Well, we thought he didn't have any money, and knew he was too proud, so we thought..."

"That was the best lie you could come up with?" asked Rachel, sounding incredulous. "Come on, you were coming up with better ones on the spot when you were cheating on him. Has your lie muscle atrophied?"

"How..."

"Rachel knows all about us. All about us. Every little thing."

"Oh."

"I think you put the battle to make women equal back forty years," said Rachel. "All by yourself. I've heard a lot of shit going on between idiots, especially in my business, which is unfortunately full of self-entitled, self-important morons. But you outshine every one of them in nasty, lying, bitching, cheating, selfish, thieving..."

She broke off and turned to me, her eyes shining with unshed tears. I realised she loved me and wanted my happiness. I felt the same way, but knew it would change nothing. She needed her freedom, and I needed her to be happy.

"Baby, are you okay?" she whispered. "How have you not strangled her?"

"I was tempted, but then I'd be in jail and locked away from my family, and most importantly, from you!" I was hugging her tight to me when I heard a broad accented Australian voice.

"Oy! Put that skanky sheila down! You fired me, not her!" Alicia had a broad grin on her beautiful face... and then she saw Raine. "Oh, I guess you're the one needing the robe. Put it on. You don't want to advertise that figure. In cooking and make-up, I always go with the axiom that less is more, but in your case I guess more is just... more. Probably too fucking much, really. So put more on and cover that shit."

I couldn't help sniggering silently, my belly muscles twitching and letting Rachel know I was okay. I turned to see Alicia holding out a robe to Raine.

Her rich Australian twang had softened slightly over her years in France and then working for me, but it came out rich and full as she insulted my ex. Raine struggled into the robe, looking devastated.

I could see why. Comparing Raine to Alicia was a little like comparing a French bulldog to a pedigreed Afghan in terms of beauty. Both are dogs (although Raine's a bitch), and both could be loveable (if the bulldog was anything else but Raine), and loyal (not Raine) ... okay, that comparison didn't work on any level.

Alicia was tall and slim, but with surprisingly big boobs. Her features were delicate and fine, and she looked like a young fragile super-model. With shining pale blond hair falling in a glistening waterfall to the hem of her short skirt -- hair that was normally loosely tied up in a bun under her chef's hat -- she looked like a perfect all-wasp teenage debutante. Innocence and purity oozed from her every pore. When she opened her mouth, however, she sounded like a wharf rat, from the sheer amount of cursing that came out of it. In fact, she had confessed in a whisper that her nickname at cookery school had been Wharfie. The contrast between her delicate frame and features, and her extensively disgusting vocabulary never failed to amuse me, and I really enjoyed being her boyfriend whenever she was fired.

She gave me a kiss as Raine goggled at her. "You had to pick up some fucking sorry-arse stray slut, instead of coming home and fucking me? What were you thinking? My beautiful soufflés! I made the fucking chocolate and chilli ones you like so much. Ruined! You thoughtless cunt!"

Indeed, I did like her creations that much. It's fairly common now, but then, the mixture of chocolate and chilli was so exotic and novel. I didn't need exotic, I just needed her soufflés. I looked mournfully at her.

She relented when I gave a hug and a kiss, tasting her tongue and her lipstick. "I'll make some more for breakfast, for all of us, okay?" she said.

Michaela entered the fray, wandering up to our little group from the garage stairs. "Oy, 'oo has made the limousine to smell like fish? Not nice fresh fish, mind. 'Orrible old stinky fish. Why you 'ave go catching fish when you own damn whole fishing fleet?"

Michaela, for whom the word bombshell had been invented, was the very essence of the cliché of small-but-buxom, ever-fertile Italian beauty. Her English always deteriorated when she got annoyed or excited, which tended to make things very interesting.

"It smell like you 'ave poked some old whore on my back seating. Is this the old puta? Why for so you bring her 'ome? Why not leave her in back alley where you find?"

I stifled an onset of giggles. My girls were going into all-out war mode for me tonight. I guessed Rose had spread the word about the private business my ex-wife had discussed with me in the car. That meant there would have to be double punishment for my English chauffeuse before bed time, I decided. She had earned it.

My suspicions were confirmed when Abi and Laura drifted in as well, accompanied by Caroline, my secretary. Every one of them was now standing around my ex and me, all of them giving me a comforting pat or squeeze of the hand.

"Lockdown is in effect, sir. No one is getting in or out before tomorrow," stated Abi. "I've taken the liberty of putting your... friend in the Hazel room.

I heard Michaela mutter something like, "...should put the puta back in 'er alley..."

Lockdown was fascinating on two counts; the first being that we had never had a lockdown on the house before, mainly because we had nothing in place that could do that. It wasn't part of my security routine. The second was that Raine was apparently being deliberately isolated in my house, and had now been put in the room alongside mine. Were they expecting me to slip into her room during the night?

Alicia caught my puzzlement and guessed the cause. "Not a fucking chance, mate. You're my boyfriend until you hire me again, so get your thoughts off her fat arse and onto my tits, all right? And if your thoughts are good ones, we can try and get those two together for a little, and by how's-your-father I actually I mean tit-fucking while I tickle your nadgers and suck your cock. Until then..."

Ah, now I understood. Alicia would be going all out to let Raine know exactly what she had thrown away. I guessed I would be in fine voice tonight. I felt my cock give a little lift at the thought. Alicia was a generous lover who, whenever she was fired, always went all out to try and reduce me to a puddle. At least I thought she had always gone all out. What if she had been holding back... Jeez, she could kill me with kindness.

Ah well, better that than a thrust up the butt with a rusty sword, as my daddy used to say. Yeah, didn't make sense to me either.

Raine didn't look happy. "I can't stay. What would my husband think?"

"He probably think 'Grazie Dio, I don't have to sleep next to old lady smelling of fish,'" said Michaela politely.

I sniggered.

"Caroline," I said. The tall, slim, dark-skinned beauty with classic features and bright green eyes, almost slammed to attention.

"Yes sir?"

I smiled at her. Despite her beauty and astonishing brains, she always seemed nervous in my company, like an antelope too close to a predator. Except when I fired her; then the prey became predator and she turned into a panther who would stalk into my bedroom and feast long and hard on my helpless body.

Each of my girls had their own mind, body and spirit, and all of them seemed to be happy to dedicate all of those to me and each other. I had no idea why. Any and all of my nine ladies could, and often had in the past, commanded great fame, huge salaries, hordes of underlings -- or even, in Siobhan's case, small armies.

Somehow, Rachel had found eight wonderful, beautiful women who had been bored, damaged, threatened, unhappy or unappreciated in their lives, brought them together and welded them into an almost impervious family around one broken wreck of a man. They were my shield, and I was now the rock at their core. It should never have worked, but somehow it did.

"Caroline, please would you institute the Eschatos protocol."

Her eyes widened, and then a broad smile grew on her generous mouth, her perfect teeth showing for a moment. A ripple of excitement passed through my staff.

Rachel turned to me and took my hands. "At last," she whispered.

Caroline disappeared.

"Rose," I called. The red-head turned to look at me. "Report to my room for punishment. Wait there until I get there. Be patient!"

She knew what that meant. She would be kneeling on the rug at the end of the bed, not allowed to even touch herself as her anticipation and excitement grew.

I kissed Alicia, who sighed. "That fucking whore's been naughty again?"

I nodded.

"We going to spank her arse together?"

I nodded again. She shivered.

"God, I love this fucking job," she whispered, and the raised her voice. "Rose, you're a disgraceful little cunt. Double dessert for you tonight!"

The pizzas -- enough for everyone -- arrived, carried by Chelsea, the usual delivery girl. Abi and Laura let her through, betting on Raine not realising that the house wasn't actually in lockdown. I think Chelsea loved delivering to my place; not only did she always get a really big tip, there was the fillip of seeing any number of exquisitely beautiful women excitedly taking her delivery from her and rewarding her with a kiss. If Chelsea wasn't bi-curious before she started delivering to us, she definitely was now.

Alicia and I sat on the sofa and watched the latest episode of an Australian soap for a while. I thought it was a load of crap, but was happy to share that small taste of her homeland with her while we ate. As far as I could tell, the plot hadn't moved forward in the ten episodes since I had last fired Alicia, and I'd come to the conclusion that if the programme was anything like reality, then Australia had to be packed full of the dumbest, most mundane people imaginable. I'd never been there and had no clue, but I held in mind that if Alicia was more representative, then it had to be a wildly exciting place and well worth a prolonged visit. I knew we had several patents licensed to Australian companies and thought perhaps I might take my employees on a business trip there in the ACJ Neo I had on permanent lease. I decided to wait for Sheena and Siobhan to return from holiday and then put it to a vote.

When we finished raiding the pizza box, I picked Alicia up in my arms -- something she loved as it made her feel young and delicate -- and carried her off to my bedroom.

Rose was waiting for us.

As per protocol, she was in full uniform, right down to her cap. Kneeling there on the thick white rug, her hands resting on her thighs and her breasts rising and falling as her breath came faster and faster in anticipation, she looked like a pervert's dream. My dream. Well, one of my dreams; I have a good imagination and dream a lot.

"After you, sir," said Alicia with a little curtsey. She must have practiced that one as I'd never seen it before. "Although, if you'll allow me..."

She stepped forward, took the hem of Rose's skirt, drew it up over her exquisite little butt and folded it up neatly around her waist.

"What am I going to do with you, Rose? You keep breaking the rules." My disappointed sigh was a damn fine job of acting if you ask me.

"I'm sorry, sir. Really I am! I'll get better. Please don't fire me." Her voice trembled and she managed to squeeze out a real tear, putting my acting skills back in their rightful place at the bottom of the heap.

"This is going to hurt you more than it will me, Rose."

I swatted one cheek very smartly, and then the other, waited a moment longer than expected and then did it again. I nodded to Alicia.

"You're a bad little fucker, aren't you?" she snarled and started raising some lovely pink flowers on Rose's arse. Between smacks, she would rub the offended area and then slide her fingers down between her cheeks to rub the growing wet spot on the English girl's panties.

"I don't think this is punishment enough," I remarked. "You seem to be enjoying this way too much. Hmm, what to do? What to do?"

"You should make the naughty little cunt suck your dick as an apology," suggested Alicia. "But just to get you nice and hard for me. I've got a splash pool going on down there, and a itch that needs a real good scratching -- and by that I mean get fucked until cum shoots out my ears. So you're going to be coming in me!"

She lowered her silvery white panties and she did indeed look very moist. She grabbed Rose's hair and lead her over to me, crawling on her knees.