The OWLS Club Pt. 24

Author's Note: This story is a love story featuring exclusively lesbians. It does get erotic in places, if this offends, go no further.

The following story and the universe it occurs in only exist in the mind and imagination of the author. This will be a slow burn, with details that some may find boring, on the other hand, if you like slow romantic stories, involving two or more women, you may want to read it through to its climax. [Pardon the pun]. This story contains elements of family life and warm and gentle people. It is a work of fiction, none of the characters or places are real.

Reader discretion is advised.

Applicable Tags: Novel/Novella length. The story sometimes switches from the first to the third person. I hope you don't get too confused.

________________________________________

© 2023 Arking & RDKing, All Rights Reserved. Duplication of this literary piece without expressed permission of the author for any purpose is prohibited.

Chapter 24 -- The Announcement, The Frenchman, and The Opening.

The Saturday of the World Exclusive became chaotic.

The events of the day took over all of the previous plans, not that Kathleen and the family had made any hard and fast plans. They were completely unsure how it would be received. To say they were a little 'taken aback' would be an understatement.

Kathleen had taken Michelle's phone and rang her brother to arrange a lunch for everyone down at the club. Even though it wasn't open as such, Mia had some tradespeople still on-site to tidy up little bits and pieces.

As she was speaking to her brother, Michelle came up behind her and tapped her Mistress on the arm. Kathleen leaned down while Michelle whispered into her ear.

"There is an urgent call from Jean-Paul, he is very upset. I think you should speak to him, Mistress,"

Kathleen looked into her eyes and saw how earnest she was. Kathleen had not seen her look so distraught. She put her hand on her arm, and Michelle offered up a weak smile.

"Has he upset you?"

"Oui Madam,"

A fire burned in Kathleen's eyes, as she returned to her brother, who had listened in. "Will you get everyone down there just after noon and I'll get the food organised. I am off to have words with a Frenchman,"

Terry just huffed and said he would organise everything.

"You sort that frog out sis," Was all that he said.

She hugged Michelle, kissed her head, then sat her down and spoke softly to her.

Michelle composed herself and sat on a kitchen stool, her back straight and her hands clasped in her lap.

Kathleen wrapped her arms around her young sub, who was doing her best not to burst into tears.

Kathleen had never seen Michelle this distraught. Her heart was aching, she spoke soothingly to her, her voice was not that hot severe tone that she had used earlier, but now it was like a soft cooling breeze at the end of a very hot summer day. It was meant to calm her young sub. It was her responsibility to protect Michelle, she had made that solemn promise to protect her from all manner of things, especially rude Frenchmen.

Michelle finally caved in and began to cry, not just softly but her dam burst as if all of the pent-up stress of the past 6 months came flooding out.

Kathleen Ambrose was astonished and hugged her while she cried.

Stroking her hair, letting her sub's emotions flood from her. Kathleen had been blind to how weak her young sub was. All she saw was what she wanted to see and what she wanted her sub to be, not what her young submissive lover was.

She had failed her as her Mistress, and she knew it.

Kathleen let her feel the strength within her Mistress. Her hug was firm, strong, controlling. When she started to calm down, Kathleen kissed her, sweetly on her lips, then her nose. Smiled at her. She cradled her as the fire inside of her was stoked, like a blacksmith's forge, she felt the heat of anger building within her soul.

The anger was a combined feeling of failure on her part, and the cowardice of a man old enough to be Michelle's father, berating her from the safety of a telephone 12,000 kilometers away. Feeling how sweet young Michelle was still trembling at what was said to her. Kathleen had no idea what was said, and it didn't matter, this Frenchman had brought her sub to tears, and now he had to answer not to Kathleen Ambrose but to Michelle's Mistress!

"Michelle, my darling, tell me what he said," She tried to make her voice sound as soft and comforting as she could.

Michelle cuddled into her Mistress and started to speak in French, "Au début, il a été très poli en vous demandant. Quand j'ai dit que tu étais occupé à parler à ton frère, il a juste fait BOUM et a explosé." ["At first, he was very polite in asking for you. When I said you were busy talking to your brother, he just went BOOM and exploded."]

Kathleen just listened, stroking her hair.

"Il criait, quelque chose sur le fait de laisser les médias français être là et que vous n'aviez pas le droit de les exclure comme ça." [He was yelling, something about letting the French Media should be there and that you had no right to exclude them like this,]

Michelle continued.

"Et qu'en est-il de votre contrat avec eux pour faire un communiqué de presse commun? Que vous êtes irresponsables et qu'il n'aurait jamais dû vous faire confiance, vous les Australiens, vous ne connaissez rien à l'art." [And what about your contract with them to do a joint press release? That you are irresponsible and that he should never have trusted you Australians, you know nothing about art.

Michelle stopped for a moment. Sniffed at her runny nose before going on.

"Il a dit que vous étiez déshonorant et complètement indigne de confiance et que son offre de vous laisser abriter ces chefs-d'œuvre dans sa galerie avait été annulée." [He said that you are dishonorable and completely untrustworthy and that his offer of letting you house these masterpieces in his gallery has been rescinded.]

Kathleen continued to stroke her hair. "Hhhmmm masterpieces are they? Well, my love, there is more than one gallery in Paris that would love to house them, hey?"

All the time Kathleen had been nursing her sweet young sub, she was devising a plan to deal with this arrogant and egotistical Frenchman.

"What else did he say?" She asked.

"Je n'ai pas pu dire un mot Maîtresse, vous savez pour vous défendre," ["I couldn't say a word Mistress, you know to defend you,"]

"Baby, you don't have to defend your Mistress, it is I who should be protecting you, but thank you for trying," She kissed her head once again.

"Il a dit que les œuvres ne seraient jamais exposées nulle part en France, qu'il s'en assurerait," ["He said, that the works would never be displayed anywhere in France, he would make certain of that,"]

"Did he now, hhhhmmmm, we shall see about that,"

Kathleen kept cradling her young lover and sub, rocking her as a mother would do for her baby, Michelle snuggled in tightly and rested her head on her Mistress's bosoms. Listening to her heart beating, a strong rhythm. She was regaining her strength just by being near her Mistress. Their love for each other was strongest when she was at her weakest.

"Let me have my phone sweetheart," It was phrased as a request, but it was a lot more than just that.

Michelle handed over her Mistress's phone, not breaking the embrace they shared. She didn't want to leave this space. She felt so safe, comforted, loved.

Kathleen took the phone and started to make the phone call, she hit the return call button and waited then ended the call before it was answered. She did a quick calculation, it had just turned 8 am, and she knew Paris was some nine and half hours behind Adelaide. She smiled to herself. Should she wait for another couple of hours or not? That ran through her mind, then she thought no, 10.30 pm on a Friday was an acceptable time to talk to Monsieur Jean-Paul de Marigny.

She thought carefully as she took several deep breaths. Then felt Michelle in her arms and hit redial once again. It rang several times before it was answered.

He began as soon as he picked up his phone. His tone was abrasive, loud, and aggressive. "Mademoiselle Ambroise, enfin, vous m'avez rappelé. Ce que je vois, je n'y crois pas, vous m'avez promis que nous aurions un communiqué de presse commun et vous voilà en train de le faire tout seul, en AUSTRALIE," [Miss Ambrose, at last, you have returned my call. What I am seeing I am disbelieving, you promised me that we would have a joint media release and here you are doing it all by yourself, in AUSTRALIA]

He continued without waiting for a reply.

"C'est honteux que vous nous ayez traités de cette manière, vous rendez-vous compte de qui je suis, et du prestige que ma galerie a dans le monde de l'art? Vous avez fait de moi la risée des galeries d'art de Paris" [It is disgraceful that you have treated us in this manner, do you realise who I am, and the prestige that my gallery holds in the art world? You have made me a laughingstock of the art galleries in Paris.]

His voice was undulating as if he were a ship on a rough sea. His tone was bordering on the menacing. Kathleen waited until she was certain he had run out of insults.

"Vous m'avez insulté, moi et ma galerie, et vous ne me pardonnerez pas, vous ne pouvez pas vous pardonner, et nous ferons en sorte que ces pièces de bric-à-brac, ces pièces d'amateur de second ordre ne soient jamais vues par personne ici à Paris. Que vous avez MA PAROLE madame. [You have insulted me and my gallery and shall not, CANNOT be forgiven, and we will ensure that these junk pieces, these second-rate amateurish pieces will never be seen by anyone here in Paris. That you have MY WORD madame.]

All the while he was ranting over the phone, Kathleen had carefully placed the phone down and just listened while she kept stroking the hair of her beloved.

Once the call became silent, she still waited.

"Bonjour, Bonjour Kathleen, êtes-vous là, répondez-moi." [Hello, Hello Kathleen, are you there, answer me.] He was still shouting.

Kathleen didn't lower herself to his standards and spoke calmly, gracefully as any cultured woman would do in the face of such a bizarre outburst.

She spoke in French, "Monsieur de Marigny, je veux parler d'une chose plus importante que ces chefs-d'œuvre. Il s'agit de la jeune fille que vous avez insultée plus tôt aujourd'hui. Cette jeune demoiselle est une invitée spéciale chez moi et, en tant que telle, elle est considérée comme un membre de la famille. Comprenez-vous cela? [Mister de Marigny, I wish to discuss a more important matter than these masterpieces. The matter concerns the young girl you insulted earlier today. This young miss is a special guest in my home and as such she is considered family. Do you understand that?]

Kathleen didn't wait for an answer as she continued.

"Cela fait maintenant deux fois que vous avez insulté mon nom de famille ou un membre de ma famille, qui ne sera ni oublié ni pardonné. Vous avez raison sur un point que vous avez dit tout à l'heure, à savoir que ces chefs-d'œuvre ne seront jamais conservés dans votre galerie, je prends d'autres dispositions." [That is twice now you have insulted my family name or a member of my family that will be neither forgotten nor forgiven. You are right in one thing you ranted about earlier, that these MASTERPIECES will never be housed in your Gallery, I am making alternative arrangements.

She took a deep breath before she carried on.

" C'est ce que tu feras, Jean-Paul. Vous écrirez à la main une lettre d'excuses à Michelle Dumuir, qui s'occupe de mon domicile. Vous ferez en sorte qu'il soit remis en main propre avant que je ne sois interviewé, en direct par une chaîne de télévision française, ou je leur dirai que votre petit accès de colère n'a rien fait pour les relations franco-australiennes. Est-ce que je me suis fait comprendre? [This is what you shall do Jean-Paul. You will hand write a letter of apology to Michelle Dumuir care of my home address. You will arrange for it to be delivered by hand before I get interviewed, live by a French TV Network, or I will tell them how your little outburst has done nothing for French and Australian relations. Have I made myself clear?]

Without stopping, her tone changed from polite and soft, to business-like and hard.

"Tu nous as promis beaucoup de choses, Jean-Paul, mais rien ne nous a été envoyé pour que nous nous mettions d'accord. Juste vos promesses vides. Pas un bout de papier à signer, rien. Peut-être pensiez-vous très peu à nous, les Australiens? C'est toi qui devrais baisser la tête de honte, et puis tu as eu l'audace de réprimander une gentille jeune fille qui s'occupait de mon téléphone. Vous êtes un lâche, monsieur. J'ai été en affaires toute ma vie et j'ai mené des négociations difficiles, mais je n'ai jamais rencontré quelqu'un d'aussi incompétent que vous, monsieur. Au revoir" ['You promised us many things, Jean-Paul, but nothing was sent to us to come to an agreement. Just your empty promises. Not a piece of paper to sign, nothing. Maybe you thought very little of us Australians? You're the one who should hang your head in shame, and then you had the audacity to reprimand a nice girl who was taking care of my phone. You are a coward, sir. I've been in business all my life and I've had some tough negotiations, but I have never met anyone as incompetent as you, sir. Goodbye,"]

As she pressed the end call button she felt Michelle squeeze into her ever so gently.

"Je me sens tellement en sécurité avec vous, Maîtresse," [I feel so safe with you, Mistress]

"Je t'ai laissée tomber quand tu avais le plus besoin de moi, je dois être une meilleure Maîtresse pour toi," [I let you down when you needed me most, I must be a better Mistress to you,] Kathleen told her, as she held her close.

"Tu es une merveilleuse Maîtresse pour moi, tu m'enseignes, tu me grondes quand il le faut, et tu me fais l'amour passionné à chaque occasion, et tu me donnes à l'occasion, que pourrait vouloir de plus une soumise Maîtresse?" [You are a wonderful Mistress to me, you teach me, scold me when you must, and make mad passionate love to me at every opportunity, and you give into me on occasions, what more could a sub want Mistress?]

Kathleen smiled down at her and kissed her head. Her headaches returned that day. She closed her eyes, cursed to herself, and made a mental note to see her specialist.

No more was heard of Monsieur Jean-Paul de Marigny.

Kathleen took control of the media she let the French cultural TV network host their entire program from the Mary Ambrose room. They even toasted the masterpieces with a sip of the special dessert wine. The French hostess of the show, Evette Bardoll kept telling everyone that they had to come to Port Adelaide just to sample the atmosphere. It was explained, as only the French can do, that the works were treated with great dignity and housed in an amazing women's only members club. International guests were welcome, informed Kathleen to the big audience. It was said that it was the biggest TV audience in the whole of France for the year. That brought a satisfactory smile to Kathleen and Terry's faces.

With Michelle's help, it was arranged that the four works and the many love letters would be hosted by Michelle's former Mistress's wife's gallery and that Mia and Emily would, host the whole 3-month tour.

The following week flew by.

The arrangements for the opening night were all in place. It was going to be a lavish affair.

Kathleen had arranged for Michelle to wear an exclusive gown, made by a local couturiere, a name on everyone's lips since her stunning success at the Paris Fashion Week, Pixie Jenkins. It was an off-the-shoulder number, a red gown, with a flowing skirt look, with a tight waist. A golden broch high on her left side, made it look strangely odd. Very French Fashion Week.

The 3" high heels couldn't be seen under the gown, and they made Michelle almost the same height as her Mistress. If any man had seen the four-hundred-dollar Patton leather shoes, they would have raised an eyebrow, while the women would have been totally jealous. Kathleen had never flinched at the prices of garments until she was told what this would set her back.

Kathleen didn't skimp on the occasion either, her suit was a three-piece Armando, it was a deep dark blue, her shirt was a crisp plain white cotton material, and a silk tie in the local Port Adelaide City colors set it all off. Her shoes were black and white Patton leather, flat-soled. When they were side by side, Michelle's height was equal to that of her Mistress. Her smile was broad and genuine.

The OWLS Club was officially opened on a Friday night, at 7 pm by the Premier of South Australia, Ms. Stephanie Whyppe, the local Mayor, Janine Kismore, and selected dignitaries, there was a small and simple handover of a beautiful brass plaque, stating it was The OWLS Club and the year 2018. There were the customary photographs and then the party started, it was indeed a Grand Affair. Ball gowns mixed with street jugglers, topless waiters, the male variety, served drinks in the street, while the special guests were taken for a private tour of the establishment. The highlight was, of course, the four masterpieces by Henri Toulouse Lautrec and the many love letters between Mary Ambrose and Amalie Birkenfeld. The entrance of the tunnels was now secured by those fashionable dungeon-type gates, fittingly if everyone knew what was housed not too far away. That area was not included in the tour. Which ended up in the Dining room. Where they were served a four-course meal concluding with a small glass of very special dessert wine. This one occasion was the only time non-females were invited to dine in La salle à manger du club OWLS. Terry of course was the only exception to the rule.

There were no fireworks on the roof as first planned but Emily who took charge of the event, went for a more modern and upmarket look of colored 'Led Lights' strung from the buildings in the street, flashing in time with some upbeat music of the day. Anita and Erica had convinced the local council to close off the surrounding area and a party-like atmosphere took over. The buildings all around the precinct acted as screens as a new hologram projection technique was used to display the works and some of the love letters. It became a giant street party-type atmosphere, and that made the whole affair feel like the World-Famous Sydney Gay Mardi Gra.

The subscription to the club was sold out quickly after the news broke about the paintings on the previous weekend. Kathleen not wanting to miss a business opportunity set the base annual membership fee at seven thousand dollars and twenty thousand dollars for the 'Gold Class' subscription. It seems the waiting list to become a member now reaches beyond twenty-two months.

Who knew that there were so many women with so much disposable income? It was suggested that several Internationally A Listed actresses had signed up, as well as a local Federal Politician. None of the names were ever leaked, and the members list became a much sought-after commodity. The staff who were engaged were not only well paid and discreet, but they were well vetted to ensure only the very best were employed there. They were all females, even the security firm contract, which was vigorously fought over, the tender list extended beyond the locals and interstate security firms, to an international firm. The name of the winning tender was never disclosed. They were also responsible for keeping the database safe. Its location was never revealed.

In the following weeks, the gossip columns went wild with so and so being sighted in Port Adelaide, near the OWLS Club, or a married woman of a local magistrate was seen having a coffee with a well-known TV Hostess, not far from the OWLS Club.