Stuffing the Mouse: the Ensemble

Part One - The Ensemble

“Are the socks ready?”

“Oui Monsieur.”

“Put them on the tray in the Hall.”

I watched the maid leave the room. By heaven even I was turned on, that tiny skirt and those fishnet tights tottering into the Hall on stiletto heels. Two days getting ready, two days! Still, it’s what he wanted. No one could ‘dress’ the French Maid like Paul, others had tried and not even come close to his ability to transform himself. Of course it helped if you had legs like a ballet dancer – actually he is a fucking ballet dancer – his ‘bouree’ is going to take on a whole new meaning tonight.

“Adele, where are you?”

“In the Library darling.”

I walked across the Dining Room and into the Library. Adele, naked as usual, was perched on the arm of the leather sofa toasting the fanny in front of the fire pretending to read a book. The lengths this girl goes to for effect. I had to agree she looked stunning, golden hair fluffed around her shoulders, firelight dancing across her thighs, glinting off her bouffant pubes, what does she do, backcomb them?

“Why aren’t you dressed, we don’t have much time?”

“That costume is so hot darling.”

“Well you’re not going to get any cooler standing there, pretending to read.”

“I’m not pretending.” She pouted.

“Adele, it’s a picture book, it’s upside down.”

“Oh. Is it? I cannot see anything without my glasses. Ok, you caught me. Can’t we just play ‘hide the sausage’ one more time before the Gentlemen arrive, it’s been nearly an hour since my last snack.”

“Adele!”

“Yes Michael?”

“Go and get dressed, if you are a good girl tonight we can play ‘hide the sausage’ and ‘toad in the hole’ all day tomorrow. Have you seen Grand Mama?”

“Michael.” She mewed, “I don’t have to go with that horrible Mr Gibbs if I don’t want to, do I? He smells so awful, he’s always blowing stinky poos and blames my sweet Muffin, and you know as well as me, my Muffin is never stinky poos.”

“Adele, are we talking about the cat?”

“Michael, you are silly sometimes. My Muffin, my sweet little pussy, Muffin. Not my muffin, that so badly wants a nice hot sausage between its lips. Can’t we just… quickly now, look its all nice warm and toasty for you.”

“Adele, that’s enough. The Gentlemen pay very handsomely for the entertainment we provide for them. God knows we need the money after Grand Papa lost the family fortune on that ridiculous wager, Grand Mama has always been very adept but any fool would see that even she could not take on the entire Caerphilly Cheese Rolling Consortium single handed. Well not in the one hour time limit.”

“I thought she did very well Michael, you must not blame Grand Mama, she managed forty two and another six would have seen her home and dry. Well not dry exactly. She said it was the dreadful smell of the cheese, she just couldn’t concentrate.”

“And what did Grand Papa do in his shame? Threw himself off the tower; he couldn’t even do that right, crashed straight through glass roof of the Billiard Room and impaled himself on Paul’s billiard cue.”

“Yes, but at least he died with a smile on his face.”

“Adele, go and get dressed, put your costume on and check to make sure the village girls are ready. And Adele, keep your legs off the Butler. I do not want a repeat of last month’s shameful episode with the champagne bottle. I’m going to find Grand Mama.”

Adele slid out of the room; she doesn’t walk exactly, but moves like she is grinding a sausage in her muffin, her pert derriere rising and falling first one side then the other. I think she does it on purpose it can’t be natural.

I found Grand Mama in the Gentleman’s Cloakroom. She turned away as I entered.

“What are you doing Grand Mama.”

“Ah dharling boy, there you are. I was just going to come looking for you.” She said glancing back at me.

“Give it here Grand Mama.”

I held out my hand.

“I don’t know what you mean, dharling boy, I haven’t got any thing.”

“Give me the hatpin Grand Mama. We are not having any more holes in the contraceptives, I’m going to have to check the machine again now.”

She scowled and handed me the hatpin.

“The village girls can make a fortune from the Gentlemen if they get pregnant, the money would change their lives.”

“So will the scamper of little feet! They are paid well enough for their work, they are happy with that; they do not need your creative input. Now I have asked you before, please stay away from the contraceptive machine. Grand Mama please go and make sure that Adele has gone upstairs to change and has not got the Butler on the floor again.”

“Oh is she going to do that trick with the champagne bottle again, I must go and watch.”

“No!” I shouted, “She is not doing any tricks with champagne bottles, not today, not tomorrow, never. Just go and make sure she is getting dressed; she will need your help with the zippers.”

“Can I play with the Butler later, after everyone has been arranged?”

“Yes, but you are not to hurt him like last time, I had to let him sleep with Paul by way of compensation. The Butlers Deluxe Marinade Injector is to be used only on meat going into the oven, it is not, repeat, not ever to be used to clean the Butlers ‘pantry’. I do not know what you were possibly thinking of Grand Mama; you could have hurt the poor boy. Though Paul did say that it made for a nice fit.”

I closed the door to the Gentleman’s Cloakroom, made sure Grand Mama was heading for the stairs and not the Butlers quarters and checked my watch, fifteen minutes. Right run through everything.

Bedrooms, done this morning, village girls each have their room keys so that should be ok.

The credit card terminal that accessed the Gentlemen’s Cloakroom was switched on, rather a neat way to extract payment, Grand Papa’s idea; pity the silly fool isn’t here to see it work. Each packet of contraceptives costs £250.00, not bad for a dozen and the girls are up to it, I have tested each personally. Well ok, Adele helped.

Paul is dressed and ready. He looks forward to this so much, been practising his ‘fouette’ all week, I do hope he gets Mr Gibb’s, that will pay him for being rude about my Adele’s poor Muffin. She has the sweetest smelling muffin in the whole world, I even like her pussy Muffin, though I’ve never been strong on cats, not unless she is going to do that thing with its tail again…mind’s wandering concentrate.

I heard the clatter of feet on the stairs and moved into the Hall to inspect the ‘ensemble’.

They organised themselves in a neat row and awaited my tour.

Victoria, so sweet and angelic, a delicate slip of a girl with a bosom like whipped fondant. A Milk Maid, how appropriate.

Angela. Dark and vivacious; an absolute bedroom powerhouse. How I remember the night we tried her out. She finished off both me and Adele, and would have had Paul as well if he hadn’t been so quick on his feet. Grand Mama soothed her flow, I must ask how she did that. Dressed like a vampish guest, very nice.

The Cat. Never sure who is in the cat costume, could be sexy little Anne or that vixen Rebecca. If Adele ever leaves me, I promised Rebecca she could move in, such a cunning little animal always finding a morsel to take between her lips.

The Fox. Well again, this is either Anne or Rebecca.

The Mouse. My darling Adele. I do hope she does not get Mr Gibb’s, I want a happy stuffed mouse at the end of this night.

The Butler, though he doesn’t normally participate, he plays his part. He stands here proud and erect, just like his todger, dressed in tails, no trousers or underwear, shiny polished shoes and socks held up by gaiters. I am very pleased with his turn out, hope Grand Mama goes easy on him.

The French Maid, Paul, you darling boy, only you could look so sexy dressed as a maid. None of the Gentlemen ever complains, Paul is very gifted at finding their needs, even the ones they didn’t know they had.

Finally, wonderful Grand Mama. Every inch the impeccable hostess; if only she and Grand Papa had thought of this scheme when she were in her prime. Still she enjoys going round the rooms, advising, coaching. Even been known to join in when the situation required.

I can hear the crunch on the gravel drive as the cars arrive and glance at the Grandfather clock, just two minutes to nine. They will wait at the door until the clock strikes the hour and only then enter. Grand Mama will give each a sock containing an ornament depicting their partner for the night. The rest is just pleasure.

And what of me? Where is my pleasure whilst the cavorting takes place? I shall be in my usual place in the study watching over the video recorders. That is where we make our real money. We have nearly five hundred members on our private client list paying £30 per month for videos.

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