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Chapter 14 The End/Regime Change
The stretched limousine glided to a stop under the portico of the Brandywine Inn. In almost three hundred years of existence, the Inn, one of the earliest admissions to the National Historical Register had seen many important visitors. Presidents, including the nation’s founding father, George Washington, had booked a room for the night. More recently, those aspiring to high office had stayed there while campaigning for the New Hampshire presidential primary.
Of course, if those candidates had known the Inn’s owner was also a participant in New England’s most bizarre upscale fetish club they would have opted for the Holiday Express after calling a press conference to declare their loyalty to family values.
Tonight’s guests were assured anonymity. Everything had been prepaid. No credit cards would be tendered and the guest list would be conveniently lost the following day. The carefully restored rooms would be open to all. The more valuable and fragile antiques were safely stowed in the Inn’s basement. A trailer load of well-made St. Andrew’s crosses, whipping benches and a modern version of a torture rack had been unloaded earlier in the day. There was even a first aid station in case someone got carried away. If needed, the doctor and nurse manning the station could be summoned from a nearby room where they practiced their medical fetish giving outrageously intrusive gynecological and prostrate exams to those who expressed interest.
The attractive female whose bare leg first appeared when the driver opened the door was in fact not a female at all. Even Madame Chernier would have taken a moment to recognize her eldest son. Upon her return from boot camp, Christine had forced a tearful Maurice to admit the reason he required her to shave his pubic hair. It seems that Jean Paul and he had developed a taste for cross dressing and had spent their free time in Paris dressed as women frequenting the clubs where transvestites and those that loved them gathered.
Margarethe AKA Maurice proved to be reasonably attractive thanks to the combined efforts of Christine and Genevieve. Before he left home, a look in the mirror had forced Margarethe to admit their efforts had produced a much more appealing result than what he had achieved in Paris. Feeling elated by the result, Margarethe allowed her skirt to ride up as she reached for the offered hand of the handsome driver.
“Thank you, Ricardo,” said Margarethe taking his hand while noting he was staring at the bulge in the front of his La Perla raw silk panty.
The next person to exit was hardly wearing anything at all. A sheer see through black dress revealed her only other attire was a minimal thong panty. Rouge had darkened Genevieve’s nipples making them appear as two black dots under the gauze like material.
Christine’s strong hand clasped Ricardo’s as she stepped out on the cobblestones. Dressed revealingly, a combination of lace and sheer material outlined her perfect figure.
Christine heard someone yell her name. It was Dina Kramer followed by her husband Alex. Wynston and a female Christine assumed to be Naomi trailed behind.
“Welcome to the annual Leather and Lace Ball,” gushed Dina before kissing Christine.
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