Anything Goes

by Cathryn Cooper

  Sheree controlled the sudden urge to laugh. What this man was saying was funny. And yet, at the same time, it was sad. So was his face.

  Gently, she stroked his arm and kissed his shoulder.

  'Rene. Please don't take on like this. Surely we can do something about this can't we?'

  He nodded. 'Yes. Or rather you can.'

  Puzzled, she tilted her head sideways, her eyes betraying her need to know.

  'Like what?'

  He reached just above her head and scraped some straw away. A metal ring hung in the wall. Two leather thongs hung from it.

  'Would you...?'

  So powerful were the mental images of what her and Errol had done in the barn, that without him needing to say anything more, Sheree lay back in the straw and raised her arms above her head.

  Rene smiled. 'Thank you.'

  Not another word passed between them as Rene wound the soft leather around her wrists and tied it securely.

  A knot of apprehension tightened her stomach muscles. She felt fear, but she also felt excitement.

  I'm like the girl that was sacrificed, she thought to herself. I'm like her, lying there naked, waiting for the weapon to slice into my body.

  Like the girl, the weapon that would slice into her body would be an erect penis.

  No sacrifice, she told herself. More a silent submission.

  'That's better,' he said, his eyes shining.

  Sheree's gaze went to his penis which had now shot upright, immediately retaining its earlier proportion.

  He bent down, spread her legs, and bound her ankles to two more iron rings that were set into the close-fitting flagstone floor.

  Her whole body ached for him to mount her. She writhed among the straw, moaning low and huskily. She arched her back and thrust her breasts upwards like two creamy hills topped with dark, red rock.

  'Please,' she murmured, her eyes imploring him, her voice full of pleading. 'Please.'

  She had fully expected him to take her, to kneel between her legs, then lay himself over her and push his shaft into her entrance.

  To her great astonishment, he did no such thing.

  All signs of sexual desire had left his face. Not even a smile remained. It was as though he had been summer and now winter had arrived.

  'Rene?'

  He turned away from her and bent to his clothes.

  'Rene?'

  Now there was panic in Sheree's voice. She began to fight against her bonds. There was panic in her eyes. This was not going the way it should be going, at least, not as far as she was concerned.

  Rene, his penis now shrunk to a more manageable size, was putting on his clothes. He did not look at her as he did so.

  'Rene. What is it? Aren't you going to do it to me?'

  'Of course he's not, my dear.'

  Sheree started as she recognised the voice.

  Rene stepped to one side as a figure with grey hair and wearing a mauve dress took his place.

  Madame Brabonne now really did study Sheree as though she were no more than a piece of livestock. A cow or a horse perhaps. Even a sheep.

  'Rene's intention was just to get you into the mood. He already knows you are a creature of bestial appetite. He has watched you pleasure yourself in that apartment you lived in. Judging by that alone, we know you are exactly right to carry on the tradition of the house of Brabonne, a tradition I insist upon.'

  Wide-eyed, Sheree looked at her without understanding.

  Madame Brabonne looked to her son and then back at Sheree.

  'As my son has already explained to you, through generation after generation we bred our own slaves in this place. Alas, of course, it is no longer allowed. But my son humours me. Perhaps after my death the tradition will die. But whilst I continue, the tradition will continue.'

  'What tradition?' Sheree, face gaunt with fear, looked quickly from mother to son and back again. 'What tradition?'

  Suddenly she saw again the tableau Rene had put on to entertain her. Had she been mistaken? Was it really a rehearsal for what was to happen to her? Would she really be sacrificed?

  True terror made her body shake and her lower lip tremble as she attempted to ask a question.

  'Are you going to kill me?'

  Madame Brabonne stared at her for what seemed like minutes. Then she blinked.

  'Kill you? Of course not. We're going to sell you. I've just told you, you stupid girl. We bred slaves. You have signed a contract to sing and do...' She paused as though not savouring what she had to say next. 'Other things. Things men like women to do on demand. Your contract, my dear, is being sold on. Tonight, many men are coming to attend the bidding. Most of them have already heard you sing. Now they will want a sample of your other "skills". And you my dear, will oblige. In fact, you can hardly refuse.'

  'You can't! Please! You can't!'

  But Madame Brabonne had already turned away. Her next comment was directed at her son.

  'Come, Rene. Let us go back to the house. Our guests will not be here until three this afternoon. Mame has prepared the food and drink. It should really be a night to remember. I'm looking forward to it immensely, aren't you?'

  Sheree heard him answer his mother as they turned to leave.

  'No,' Sheree cried. 'You can't do this!'

  Madame Brabonne turned round.

  Immediately she faced her, Sheree became terribly aware of her embarrassing predicament. She struggled against her bonds, desperately trying to close her legs so Rene's mother could not gaze on the glistening pink flesh all ready for Rene, or any other man, to take advantage of. But that, she realised, was exactly what all this had been about. Rene had been arousing her, making her juicy and ready for what was to come.

  'You signed a contract, girl. You cannot go back on it now. Do you want to read it through again?'

  Eyes fixed on Sheree's face, Madame Brabonne clicked her fingers at her son.

  'I've got it here somewhere.'

  He immediately began rummaging in his jacket pockets.

  His mother held her pose, fingers not too far from his face. Shamefaced, he stopped searching his jacket and looked directly at her. 'I don't appear to have it with me.'

  Madame Brabonne gave him a disparaging look as her arm dropped to her side. 'That could be very difficult. A potential buyer might not be inclined to wait until you post it to him.'

  Rene glanced between her and his mother.

  'I'm sorry,' he said and, somehow, Sheree knew that his apology was for her as much as for his mother.

  Chapter 22

  Stacey's car was very flashy and very fast.

  Even so, Errol was finding the journey overly long. He was frantic to see Shirley Anne again even if she had changed her name to Sheree for stage purposes.

  'Step on that gas,' he exclaimed, his eyes narrowed against the dust thrown up by the secondary road they travelled along.

  'We'd better have a plan of action,' Max stated, his voice half muffled by the wind.

  'What makes you think we need one?' Errol countered. Emmeline, the flimsy material of her skirt stirred by the breeze to reveal her stocking tops, intervened. Errol averted his eyes, but listened.

  'Because the buyers are going to be pretty put out at having their fun curtailed. Knowing Rene, he's really got Sheree - sorry - Shirley Anne in the mood for hot sex. And those guys attending Madam Brabonne's little soiree are going to be hot as a Texas bull in the mating season. And they're going to be plenty angry if they don't get what they want.'

  Max gave Emmeline a sidelong glance.

  'But you coped.'

  She smiled at him and tapped his nose with her finger.

  'But that's me, Maxie baby. I can cope with anybody. You know that, honey bun.'

  Although she caught the hasty glower Stacey Brabonne threw her via the car's rear-view mirror, Emmeline still smiled, her eyes gazing straight ahead.

  When they got to the Brabonne place, there were a number of cars parked outside.

 
; Emmeline raced up the steps and pushed at the big front door. It opened, just as she had expected it to. Mame was right behind it.

  'I saw you coming up the steps,' she explained, her attention firmly fixed on the bubbling Emmeline.

  'I'm glad you did, Mame.' The others, who had followed Emmeline in, stood round as the vivacious younger woman pecked the older one on the cheek.

  'Have they already gone over?'

  Mame nodded. 'Not too long ago, so the bidding won't have started yet.'

  'Good!' Emmeline turned to the others. 'Who's got the contract?'

  Max took it from his inside pocket. 'I have.'

  'Right. Then let's be getting there.'

  It was Emmeline who led the way rather than the wife of the man who had organised all this. Max glanced back at her wondering why she seemed so reluctant to face her husband.

  Of course it was embarrassing to find out that he intended shoving off to France without her. But he sensed there was more to this than Stacey was letting on.

  When they got into the barn, a group of men and one woman stood with their backs towards them.

  Errol shifted himself round to the side so he could better see what was going on.

  When he saw what was happening, an uncharacteristic fury came to his face.

  Two men were knelt down either side of his darling Shirley Anne. Both were fondling her breasts with one hand while their other hand played with her sex.

  Shirley Anne's head was thrown back. Unable to escape their arousing manipulations, she was groaning, and her back was arched, her whole body tense with uncontrollable reactions.

  Someone clapped suddenly.

  'So easily aroused. How exquisite. How splendid!'

  The man who spoke had a decidedly upper-crust English accent.

  'She responds like a fiddle does to the bow,' commented another man with a German accent. 'I am determined that the contract shall be mine. This lady will grace my latest salon in Paris. Vienna is too vulgar for anything too exotic or, indeed, erotic.'

  He chuckled and a few others chuckled with him.

  Errol had seen enough. He stepped forward.

  'Shirley Anne isn't going anywhere except home!'

  He leapt to where the girl he loved lay. Floored by a clenched fist, one of the men at her side went flying. The other stood up, froze, then smiled icily as he reached inside his jacket.

  The butt of a gun appeared, but the man did not have time to draw it out further.

  Max delivered a hefty rabbit punch to the nape of the man's neck.

  Emmeline, then Stacey followed her into the ring.

  Voices of those who had come to bid were raised in anger. For a moment there was a lot of shouting from both sides. Then one voice broke through it all.

  'Quiet! All of you! I will not have my peace shattered by the baying wolves or the bleating of sheep!'

  They all turned to look at Madame Brabonne. Even Errol, who was attempting to undo Shirley Anne's bonds, looked up at her.

  'You!' She pointed at Errol. 'And you!' She pointed at Max. 'You do not understand what you have done. You have broken a tradition that has lasted nearly two hundred years. It was a flame we kept burning. A symbol of our own independence. This auction must go on.'

  'Shirley Anne is coming home,' Errol shouted.

  Madame Brabonne raised her eyebrows in a haughty manner as she addressed the would-be rescuer.

  'It is her choice. Along with the contract she would have had fame and fortune. And in return she would have only been doing things she likes doing. Or is this a nun we have here?'

  Errol looked down at Shirley Anne. 'Do you want to go to Paris?'

  Shirley Anne, or Sheree as she'd become accustomed to being called, raised her head. 'Paris. Is that where I'm supposed to be going?'

  'If my bid is acceptable,' said the man with the German accent. 'My latest nightclub is situated just off the main thoroughfare in Pigalle.'

  'And that would have been it,' broke in Madame Brabonne. 'She would have gone there for two years, and Rene and I would have carried on as before.'

  'Oh no you wouldn't!'

  Now it was Stacey's turn. Her face was screwed up with anger as she faced the woman she hated most in all the world.

  'Your darling son was leaving.'

  'Leaving you?' The look she gave her daughter-in-law was filled with contempt. 'So he should. As I said to him, he should never have married you in the first place.'

  'No!' Stacey exclaimed. 'He's not just leaving me. He's leaving you as well. He has made plans to go to Paris as that girl's manager.' As her mother-in-law was suitably taken aback, Stacey turned to her husband. 'Yes. Rene. I know what you're up to. You've fallen for that girl. You were off with her. I know all about it.'

  Rene too looked taken aback. He opened his mouth as though he were going to make an attempt at explanation. Then he closed it again and, covering his eyes with one hand, he turned away.

  Stacey grabbed the contract from Max. 'As for this...'

  Rip went the paper. Again and again, she bent it, folded it, and tore it into tiny pieces. Then she threw the whole lot up in the air and it fell to the floor like heavy snow.

  Chapter 23

  'I don't suppose we could do a private deal?' asked the last of the party who had attended the bidding.

  Errol exchanged a glance with Shirley Anne, then shook his head.

  The man concerned took one last look at the naked girl who was still spread-eagled among the straw. Noticing the barely repressed fury in Errol's eyes, he then turned swiftly away to follow the others up to the house.

  As moonlight replaced sunlight and began to throw silver light through an opening high up the barn, Errol bent and kissed her lips.

  Because she did not respond to him with as much passion as he had expected, he pushed himself back up onto his arms and looked down at her.

  'You wanted to go to Paris, didn't you?'

  He saw the sudden secretive look on her face. She nodded.

  Errol sat up and looked away from her.

  'You can go if you like. I won't stand in your way.'

  There was a silence that followed and stabbed him like a knife. Why didn't she deny she wanted to go there? Why didn't she say she wanted to stay with him?

  He looked over his shoulder at her.

  Her breasts rose provocatively as she sighed and looked back at him.

  'I wanted to see what life outside the bayous was like. That's all it was, Errol. It certainly wasn't because I didn't love you, 'cos I do.'

  Errol turned away again. He felt hurt and it would have been easy to be angry. But he couldn't be. At least, not with her.

  It was hard making the decision. It was even harder telling her.

  He lay on his side beside her and rested his head in his hand.

  'What if we renegotiate a private contract with that guy that wants you to sing in his nightclub in Paris?' He held up one finger. 'Sing only mind, Shirley Anne. No sex. Not with him anyway.'

  He figured it was a fair proposal. He wouldn't be telling her about Amber and Lacey Lee. Fearfully, he waited for her response.

  A broad smile crossed over Shirley Anne's face.

  'Can we do that?'

  A slow smile passed across his face.

  'We can do anything we like.'

  As small creatures fluttered overhead or scurried through the straw, Errol began caressing Shirley Anne's body.

  He didn't bother releasing her from her bonds and she didn't protest about him not untying her.

  Just as she had done with the men who had fondled her, she arched her back, threw back her head and closed her eyes as Errol sucked on her teats and fingered her pussy.

  In a way, she felt she was flying. Familiar sensations were flowing like quicksilver through her body. But there were also other things.

  Life, she decided, was indeed an excitement. It was something to be feasted upon. No act of sensual delight could be determined as sinful. If it was enj
oyed, then it was OK as far as she was concerned.

  As Errol's lips trailed down over her stomach, she imagined it was one of those men doing it as the others watched.

  Now she could understand just why Rene was turned on by watching others. Watching or being watched, there was little difference. It was like attending a performance at a theatre or a movie house. Actors and audience were both enjoying what was happening. That was the way it was. That was how nature had intended.

  He took her there amongst the straw, the weight and strength of his body warming her naked flesh.

  Behind her closed eyelids, Shirley Anne thought about all that had happened and all that would happen. But her ambition and yearning for better things was swamped by the sudden rush of desire that flushed through her body.

  Had she really missed Errol that much?

  She realised she had. He was something that had always been there. Something she would always be part of no matter where they were and who they were with. And that was good.

  Chapter 24

  Max set Emmeline's bells ringing.

  He hadn't been able to wait until they got back to New Orleans and Emmeline, being Emmeline, had been just as infused with sexual hunger as he had.

  Stacey seemed to be having one hell of a row with her husband and mother-in-law, and the latter was also rowing with her son.

  Emmeline took full advantage of the situation by lifting the car keys from Stacey's purse.

  Next to a grove of willow that shot like arrows from the side of the rod, Emmeline got out of the car and stripped off.

  Max's eyes lit up with delight as he again espied the range of pretty little bells that decorated Emmeline's body.

  'Now my turn,' Emmeline had cried once she'd decided he had played with the bells long enough.

  She began to dance for him, the bells jingling and ringing as she kicked up her legs, shook her breasts, then leaned backwards into a crab so he could better see the single bell that hung from her swollen clitoris.