Entertaining at Large

Sorry about the delay in finishing this chapter. Susan first appeared in Entertaining at Home. As this is the ninth chapter of this series you can probably guess how to catch up with the others. Comments, suggestions and support welcomed as always and thanks to those of you who already have.

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Lying naked on the banquette in the Snug, I began to feel cool. The post-orgasmic thrill ebbed and I started to think what had gone on in the last half-hour. The thorough fucking George had given me, I couldn't think of any other way of describing it, had left me sore and satisfied. I let out a groan as I moved my legs into a more comfortable position and felt again the residual discomfort from accommodating his outsized member. I moaned again when I remembered I had also taken money from Matt to suck his cock. I ran my fingers through my hair searching for any evidence of his orgasm, and untangled the strands when I found it.

Part of me wanted to run out of the Crown, go home and work out my feelings about what I had done, and what had been done to me, whilst soaking in a hot bath. The noise of the reaction to Scarlett's strip drifting in from the main bar kept pulling me back to the here-and-now. The matter was finally settled by the irregular crescendos, and increasing volume, of the sounds. It made me curious. That and the beginnings of my own excitement when I thought about how I was going to entertain my fellow regulars once midnight had struck.

A few minutes in the Ladies saw me fit for public display. I pushed through to the main bar and slipped behind the counter to stand next to Mandy. She glanced down at me smiling and threw a friendly arm around my shoulder. I knew it was friendly because there were no bones broken.

'You were great ducks.'

'Thanks Mandy.'

Further conversation was interrupted by shouts from the floor in front of us. I looked up and took in the scene on the the stage. Scarlett looked magnificent. Truly awesome. She was standing, legs akimbo, flexing a long riding crop between her hands and glaring down at the densely-packed mob pressed around the foot of the stage. She was virtually naked. Her small breasts were outlined by the thin strips of leather that made up her cup-less. The black lines accentuated her translucent skin which seemed to be shining. Her whole torso glistened as she swatted out at the men in front of her, her breasts quivered and her pert red nipples bounced slightly with the effort. I gasped along with the rest of the audience.

The rest of her outfit consisted of the smallest thong I had ever seen. It covered her slit, but none of thin line of red pubes which dusted her tummy below her navel. The strings looped high over her hips and disappeared between the cheeks of her butt. On her feet, she was wearing motorcycle boots. They were only loosely tied, but the bangs as she stomped around the stage were clearly audible, even over the heavy rock music she was performing to.

In front of her on the stage was a chair. Over the chair was draped a young man; he looked like one of the roll call of identikit teenagers who played pool in the Crown most weekdays. It looked like he had been tied to the back of the chair by his belt. The trousers it may have come from, were around his knees, his boxers were half-way down his thighs. It was, however, his arse which caught the eye both cheeks were red and there were clear stripes cut across them. The bottom-spots - I had seen a number of such lads servicing Tracy at one time or another, they all had them - shone lividly under the bright spotlights.

As I watched, Scarlett brought the crop down on his backside in a vicious stroke. He yelped, the crowd cheered and Scarlett's eyes seemed to shine even brighter. I felt my own buttocks clench remembering my own time at the mercy of the same crop in the same hand. She glanced over at Mandy, saw me, and gave a smile and a delicate wave. Mandy drew a finger across her throat.

'I think he's had enough don't you?'

I nodded. I had no idea what was going on.

'She's getting Barry out of her system. Young Ned there fancied her chances with her now his mate's out of the picture, I think she's turning him down.'

She grinned at me. I grinned back still not much the wiser. Scarlett was strutting up and down the front of the stage alternatively snapping straps on her barely-existent bra and tapping and stroking boys nearest to her with the crop and inviting them to take Ned's place. There were no takers, so after placing her weapon delicately on the chair she raised her arms above her head and twerked. She picked up the pace in time with the music and the chanting and cheering of her admirers. I had to drag my eyes away from her, she was moving as if each individual muscle was independently controlled. I was making me feel hot all over.

'I wanted a word Mandy.'

She looked down at me benevolently.

'About George.'

She raised a sharp eyebrow.

'What's the stupid bugger done now?'

'He fucked me in the Snug.'

She burst out laughing.

'Never heard it called that before.'

She put a finger on my lips as I coughed and muttered through an attempted explanation.

'It's OK pet, just my little joke. You enjoy it?'

'Yes, and I'm sure I don't have to tell you why.'

She grinned.

'Big, isn't he? He's always found strippers irresistible.'

'It's just that he was virtually in me before he even thought of asking whether it was what I wanted.'

'He raped you?'

Her face fell and darkened. I felt her body tense against me. She looked like thunder.

'I wouldn't say that. He was just, well, forceful. I'd probably have done him anyway, but, you know?'

My voice trailed off. I hadn't got straight in my head exactly what I thought of what had happened in the Snug. I needed time. What I definitely didn't want was Mandy going off on one and making the whole situation more complicated than it already was. I risked a look at her face to try and judge her reaction and was relieved to see a thoughtful expression had replaced the fighting-mask. We both watched Scarlett in silence.

She had kicked off the biker boots and was in the act of removing the minuscule thong. It fell away as she expertly unclipped two studs holding the waistband. I found my own heart rate quicken as she stood basking in acclamation. The last garment was little more substantial than a biblical slingshot as it dangled from her hand. Mandy reached back and clicked the track to fade without even looking at the machine. Scarlett contained to stand, arms outstretched, her skin a vision in white and pink. She reminded me most of one of this paintings by consumptive nineteenth century artists; her red hair darkened at the ends with perspiration from her glistening skin, her cheeks, pubes and pudenda rosy and slick. I blew her a kiss when she glanced our way.

Mandy brought me back to the present.

'When we've poured a tanker load of beer and lager into this lot...'

She nodded at the growing throng of demanding drinkers beginning to push together in front of the long bar.

'We'll talk again. I think I've got a way to make that randy sod think on. Mind giving us a hand?'

She flicked her head towards the other end of the bar where George was handing pint after pint over to grasping hands. He'd taken the sensible decision to fill as many glasses as he could before the rush started. Between him and us the two regular barmaids were a red-faced with the effort of trying to quell the demands of thirsty customers who were now reaching horde-proportions.

It was a mad half-hour. Mandy pulled pints and filled smaller spirit glasses, I took cash and rang it into the till. We were a good team. I snuck occasional glances over the heads of crowd to measure Scarlett's progress on her fundraising tour. She had taken her riding crop with her and as well as the standard selfies with her naked body pressed against a happy punter, friends were taking shots as she "punished" naughty boys. When I couldn't see her, I could tell where she was by the cheers and laughter coming from various parts of the large room.

I was amazed at the amount of cash I was ringing into the till. The Crown was raking it in that night. I also got some insight into the mechanics required to keep the thirst-crazed bedlam quieted. Every few minutes one of the women would shout to George and he would disappear to the cellar to change another barrel. He was barely back abusing customers before he was dispatched again.

Eventually we began to make inroads into the demand and by the time Scarlett appeared in front of us, face flushed and eyes sparkling, there was even a vacant stool for her to perch on. Even though I was standing right next to her, I still couldn't see how Mandy managed to evaporate from my side and reappear beside Scarlett an instant later. But there she was, hugging and kissing, holding out a towel and helping her dry her soggy hair. Standing there naked, Scarlett was transformed from sadistic stripper to awkward child fending off the over-affectionate ministrations of an adoring relative. I smiled at them both and felt nostalgic for a time when my mother's care was similarly oppressive.

'Right, you go and get dressed and dig your cousin Tracy out of the bogs. I think she's rubbing Ned's pain better.'

Scarlett and I smiled at each other.

'You, me and Susan have some business to discuss in the Snug. You've got five minutes.'

Scarlett and I exchanged shrugs of ignorance as we kissed on her way to get changed. I handed her two carrier bags, heavy with notes and coins, the proceeds of her collection. Mandy was already at the other end of the bar talking to George. It didn't look as though he was saying much back. I passed Tracy on her way down the corridor as I went to the back room. She was straightening the skirt on her business suit and tucking a dildo away in an inside pocket. She was wearing black-framed glasses and had her hair gathered in a bun at the back of her head.

'Going for an interview?'

'Had that, I'm just off to collect my bonus.'

She kissed me on the cheek and clattered away on the highest pair of heels I had ever seen.

'Don't hang about, we haven't got all day.'

Mandy breezed past me into the Snug. She had two men in her wake. Both were aged somewhere between forty and old. Their meticulous casual clothes exposed them as older than the kids, the lack of ties made them younger than Mr J's generation. I tagged along behind. Each was carrying a full pint and not spilling any of it. You don't pick up that skill in an afternoon. Mandy handed Scarlett an alcopop and me a Perrier and plonked herself down on a bench, waving the inevitable cloud of dust away from her gin and tonic.

The rest of us sat on the chair nearest to us. Scarlett was in the corner, now dressed in jeans and searching in her bag for a bra or T-shirt.

'This is JD and Red. You know Susan and Scarlett?'

'What ho.'

The two men stood and shook my hand. They both turned to offer the same courtesy to Scarlett, but as she was busy strapping herself into a skimpy, see-through bra, decided on friendly nods instead.

'They run the big sports outlet in the precinct and the town's best painting and decorating business.'

'You're JD Sports?'

'Not unless my mum knows something I don't.'

The red-haired man grinned at me over his beer. His colleague raised a finger to identify himself.

'George, out of the goodness of his heart, has decided to sponsor Susan's football team.'

'You're in a football team?'

'She's the best female goalie in the league. They'd win every week if the bloody male outfielders could get their act together.'

Mandy spoke with an authority which brooked no argument. I just looked down; I hoped modestly.

'Scarlett will design the logo for the front. They'll need two full kits each.'

I started to interrupt. Two kits were really not necessary. Mandy silenced me with a look. Scarlett nodded proudly and professionally at me when I shot her a quizzical glance. Well as professionally as you can when your head is just emerging from a bright yellow T-shirt with "Eat Me" emblazoned on the front.

'I've got a diploma. I did the sign out front.'

'As I was saying, two strips, one for training, the other for matches.'

'Perhaps an away strip for training? What colours were you thinking of?'

It was Red's turn to be on the receiving end of Mandy's gimlet stare.

'Fuchsia with black sleeves, black shorts with fuchsia trim and fuchsia socks with black tops.'

'They're going to wear pink?'

'Of course not. They are blokes, after all. They're going to wear fuchsia so let's not get them confused by calling it anything else.'

I grinned guilelessly at Red. He acknowledged he had got the message.

'I'll tell them it's modelled on the Malaga away strip.'

'That should do fine.'

'And a set of those tracksuit things and top-of-the-range boots for playing on all-weather pitches.'

I whistled.

'That's going to cost a few bob.'

'Isn't it. You just bring the invoice to me and I'll deal with George. How soon can you have the logo ready, Scarlett love?'

'A couple of days?'

'So that's settled. Any questions?'

Scarlett and I looked at each other with open mouths. After all we both knew George. By the look on Red's face he knew George too. But all three of us shook our heads meekly and mentally checked our calendars to make sure we'd be busy on whatever day Mandy was planning on presenting the bill.

'Now JD.'

He jumped a little as he fell under Mandy's full attention.

'George and I have discussed redecorating the bar.'

That was too much. Each of us inadvertently made noises expressing our scepticism. Mandy held up a hand.

'I've told him every place need doing at least once every three decades. He had no option but to agree.'

She smiled sweetly at me.

'He absolutely refused to change that revolting wallpaper.'

That was more like it. Nothing summed up George's taste better than the balding, Chinese-restaurant-style, crimson flock which disgraced the walls in the bar.

'If there is a colour which goes with that red, we'll have all the woodwork done in it. We'll need new carpeting throughout.'

JD turned his choking noises into an apologetic cough.

'I want the wall above the bar painted all white. I'm having some black and white photographs framed; they'll need a proper background.'

Mandy looked at her hand as she ticked off items on an imaginary list.

'Oh yes, and the front. I think fuchsia for all the paintwork out there. Check with Red and Susan to make sure the shade is exact.'

There was general laughter. I went across and hugged her.

'I think I can speak for us all when I say we don't want to be here when George finds out the full extent of your plans, but please, please will you video tape it for us?'

We all stood up and brushed down our clothes. It became subconscious when using the Snug. Scarlett was chatting with JD, I went to Red.

'Think you can do it?'

'Definitely. Come down Sunday if you like. We're open from ten. Can you get the other's sizes?'

Mandy put a hand on my arm as the other filed out.

'There were two ways of dealing with what he did to you.'

I waited.

'We could have kicked him in the bollocks.'

I snorted.

'Problem with that is you'd have to use so much force to pierce the protective belly fat, you'd end up dislocating every joint from your hip downwards. Nah, a boot in the wallet is a much better alternative.'

'I did mention that I think you're a genius, didn't I Mandy?'

She gave me a look which said: what took you so long?

'Wait 'til I break the news that we're having the Snug done as well. Women-only bar. You lot can use it as a proper changing room. Let's go see what our Tracy's up to before she gets the place raided.'

Frankie Go To Hollywood were never really my cup of tea. Too modern for my parents, too old for me. There's a time and a place for everything, however, as my dad used to say. And their time and place was down at the Crown on New Year's Eve. The music and crowd noise hit us like a wall as we pushed open the door. I heard Mandy mutter.

'Oh god.'

It was easy to see why. Tracy. Somehow or another she had found her way onto a chair, on top of a table, in the centre of the room. The suit, blouse and glasses were gone. She was half-sitting, half-slouched on the chair legs akimbo, boobs barely inside her bra, her hold-up stocking tops were garlanded with notes. Her face was red and her fringe was plastered to her forehead. She was gulping in breaths and writhing so much the whole edifice she had constructed shook.

The reason?

Below her an equally sweaty faced man was shoving a gold-coloured, metallic dildo in and out of her pussy in time to the music. Another stood next to him holding a ten pound note and a couple of guys behind her held the chair almost steady. It might not have been my era, but there were plenty there who knew the words.

"Relax".

Was shouted.

"Don't do it".

Men wagged their fingers at each other as they sang. I noticed the woman I had coerced into helping me strip raise her eyebrows to the girl she was now sitting with.

"When you're gonna come".

Was chanted like a football song. The man wielding the probe was pulled back by the guy standing next to him. He licked the glistening dildo before stirring it in his beer and passing it over. Tracy raised her arms skywards both hands clenched and let out a whoop. That got a cheer in return. She looked down and stretched out a leg so the next guy could deposit his donation. He waved the dildo like a matador as she adjusted her position pulling the gusset of her knickers aside and throwing a leg across his shoulder. A small trickle of clear fluid leaked out of her snatch.

I looked down the bar at Mandy and George. They had their arms around each other and were smiling at the scene. They might even have been proud. My attention was drawn by Red. He was standing on a chair at the back of the room, waving. He pointed at me when he saw me looking and beckoned. I noticed he was sitting with Scarlett and JD.

Passage over to them was easy. Virtually everyone in the pub was crowded around Tracy. I found them sitting staring at Scarlett as she sketched something out on a napkin. Several rejected drafts littered the floor at her feet. She leaned back as I got there and waved the finished work as if trying to dry ink.

'What you reckon babe?'

I looked at what she had drawn and hugged her. It was a near-perfect replica of the sign along the outside of the pub: "Crow an Ancho ". There was a small letter 'r' hanging upside down at the end as if held by a single nail. Even the type looked accurate.

'Brilliant.'

She passed it tentatively over to Red. He looked at it critically, but nodding.

'Doable. Definitely doable. We'll have to get a digital version, of course.'

The two of them lapsed into computer-speak. I grinned at JD. We moved our chairs closer together.

'I'm meeting you both at Red's on Sunday. Ten-ish, OK?'

'Pourquoi?'

'Colour matching. Fuchsia's a tricky one. Not like your pink.'

He gently elbowed me in the ribs to indicate he was joking. I was beginning to like him. But not enough to get drawn into a discussion of paints, their history and application. Fortunately James came to my rescue. Well, sort of.

'Shit, James.'

Scarlett looked up at me a shocked look on her face.

'We forgot all about him. Poor lamb will be freezing out there.'

I had noticed Alan and Jake engaged in a game of cards at the end of the bar. That had jogged my memory. I ran over to Mandy and George.

'We've forgotten about James.'

It took a second for the message to sink in, but when it did George went and started briefing Jake. He spoke slowly and in words of one syllable. Mandy pulled a pint.