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Dinner Party Mystery
A Girl Friday, Risk Versus Reward crossover story.
Chapter 4: An Indecent Proposal
“Miss Charlotte. Miss Charlotte.” I laid my hand on her arm, as I watched demure little Esme encouraging our guests to make their way to the dining room.
“Not now,” she growled.
“Miss Charlotte, it’s time to eat.”
She turned to face me, and as she did, Miss Natasha and the dragon lady disappeared from view on their way to the dining room.
“I’m going to strangle that woman,” Charlotte said.
“Dragon Lady, that’s who.”
Somehow I knew that would be her answer.
I wrapped a hand around Charlotte’s arm and looked her in the eye. “Have you ever known Miss Natasha to put up with anyone’s shit, Miss Charlotte?”
She stood still for a second, her eyes turned heavenward as she pondered my question.
“I know this is hard, Miss Charlotte, but did you ever consider that, well… she might be enjoying the attention.”
“Miss Charlotte, you know better than anyone what Miss Natasha looks like in the throes of passion. Doesn’t she look like she’s halfway there?”
“I — I don’t… Maybe… No. It’s just wrong.”
I shook my head. “Miss Charlotte, everyone’s in the dining room. We’re going to be holding up dinner.”
Charlotte hmphed, and set her lips in a tight, downward curve, but she followed me.
“Ah, we can start now,” the woman who had been introduced as Desi said. This did nothing to quench Miss Charlotte’s ire. In fact, at one point, I had to reach up and reattach her emergency mustache, she frowned so hard.
Dinner was fabulous, though. Miss Vishranti Chowdhury had created a paneer tikka masala that nearly caused me to climax when it hit my tongue. Then there was something called Malai Kofta, which I asked Zaheera to say again after the first and second time she told me. It wasn’t so much that I’d misunderstood, but more that I loved the way she wrapped her sexy lips around the words as they tumbled from her mouth. If she could whisper Malai Kofta, while Miss Chowdhury clutched me lovingly to her bosom, I think I would be in heaven.
There were also soups and yogurt, and rice things that I forgot, because I was too involved in my Malai Kofta fetish daydream to recall their names. “Oh, this is heaven,” I said to Charlotte.
She just grunted and tore a piece of naan bread into little pieces.
I knew exactly what she was grunting about, too. Across the table sat Miss Natasha, with her flimsy, backless, red fuck-me dress gapping and her chest flushed pink every time she leaned forward to accept a morsel of food from the dragon lady’s fingers. To make matters worse, or better, depending on whose perspective it was viewed from, Dragon Lady only used one hand to feed her. Because, the other hand never came up from under the table.
“I’m going to strangle that woman,” Charlotte grunted through clenched teeth.
“Miss Charlotte, have some paneer. It’s orgasmic.”
Charlotte grumbled some more.
“Your orgasm won’t be half as good when it’s cold.”
“Fine,” she hissed, and proceeded to murder little chunks of curried cheese with the tines of her fork.
Across the table, Miss Natasha was squirming in her seat.
“I should probably feed Bella,” I said, excusing myself from the table. “Otherwise, she’ll come sniffing around here looking for handouts.”
Miss Natasha may have nodded, I don’t know. Maybe it was just her perpetual squirming.
On my way out I asked Zaheera to tell me what the veggie ball dish was again. Not that I had forgotten the name Malai Kofta, I just wanted to watch her luscious, red lips as she pronounced it for me. I thanked her and rubbed her delightful bare bottom before I left. That girl was going to make her mistress so happy.
“Bella,” I called. poker oyna “Dinnertime, honey.”
* * *
By the time I returned, which really wasn’t that many minutes later, Miss Natasha was out of her dress and moving around the table refilling everyone’s wine glass. I don’t remember seeing her drink much herself, so I wasn’t sure why her dress was lying in a heap in the corner while she strutted around playing bar wench.
I got my answer from the dragon lady herself.
“She is the hostess,” Dragon Lady said, locking eyes with me. “It’s only fair that she have a chance to serve her guests.”
I shrugged. Made sense, I guess. A little weird, but what about tonight’s meal wasn’t. Charlotte, however, was not amused. Her eyes had narrowed to slits, her mouth was a tight line, ready to spit the nails she must have been chewing as she worked her jaw back and forth.
I sat back down next to her and gently placed my hand on her arm. She jerked it away. Miss Natasha, however, seemed to be light on her feet and faintly grinning as she made her rounds. When she got to me, I sneaked a peek at her marvelous behind, and saw the source of at least part of her joy, and definitely most of her squirming this evening.
Miss Natasha had been stuffed with a butt plug. It was lime green and sparkly, so it wasn’t one of ours. Though it did look to be in the same size range as the trio of purple ones I had my initials written on, and it was definitely toward the larger end of the scale. I’m really surprised with the size and neon coloring that Miss Charlotte hadn’t picked up on it, or maybe she had seen it and that’s why she was so red faced.
“She does a fine job, don’t you think?” Dragon Lady looked directly at Charlotte as she offered her opinion of Miss Natasha’s serving skills.
Charlotte brushed up against me under the table. I think it was an accident. When I looked down, she was making little fists with her hands, and her gaze had not left the dragon lady’s face. To make matters worse, Miss Natasha was invited to sit on the woman’s lap after making her serving rounds.
Miss Natasha’s eyelids fluttered a little as her bottom came to rest on that woman’s thigh. I could almost imagine the feeling of that sparkly, lime green plug being pressed a little deeper as she put her weight down on it. With the expression on her face, she certainly didn’t seem to mind. Charlotte’s visage was an entirely different matter.
“How much would it set me back to spend the night with your lovely mistress here?” Dragon Lady looked directly at Charlotte. “Would five-hundred thousand be sufficient? There is some leeway, but much more than that would require a call to my financial manager.”
Charlotte began to rise out of her seat. I put my hand on her thigh to settle her down. Before the already tense situation could come to a head, beautiful young Lenore came bouncing into the dining room. She leaned in between Desi and Dragon Lady.
“Bring it in,” Desi said. Desi’s face was becoming more scrunched by the minute.
I kept a firm hand on Charlotte’s thigh.
Lenore brought in the pie. I vaguely recognized it as the one that Desi had with her when she showed up on our doorstep this afternoon. It looked as if some angry person had attacked it with a pen, or maybe a felt-tip marker. There were holes all over the top crust and cherry filling bleeding out all over.
“It was that mutt!” Desi exclaimed. “That lousy mutt ruined my pie.”
I was just about to come to Bella’s defense with an eye-witness account as to her whereabouts this evening, when Charlotte stood up, sending her chair toppling over, coming to a stop only after putting a sizable dent in the wall behind her.
“That’s enough!” she said. “I want you people out of this house this instant. You think you can come in here and treat my mistress, my wife, as if she were your personal plaything? You offer money for her like she’s a common canlı poker oyna streetwalker. And then you have the nerve to accuse my dog of eating your God forsaken pie.
“My mistress has more class than any of you. Hell, my dog has more class than any of you. I want you out of this house! And if you do not get up from the table this instant, I will drag you to the door and send you packing with the sole of my shoe on your asses. Now go!”
To say a hush fell over the room would be an understatement. Esme, Lenore, and Zaheera were crowded by the doorway leading to the kitchen, backing away slowly. I scanned the faces around the table and everyone was busy picking their jaws up out of their laps. All except Miss Natasha and the Dragon Lady. They looked like a couple of teenagers trying to hold back a fit of the giggles.
“What!” Charlotte said.
“Baby,” Miss Natasha said. “I’m sorry. It’s okay. It’s all part of a—”
Dragon Lady raised a hand and Miss Natasha stopped mid-sentence. I’d never seen anything quite like it.
Charlotte was still tight-lipped and ready to blow, so I stepped in and asked the obvious question. “What’s going on here?”
Miss Natasha wouldn’t meet her eyes. Dragon Lady just smirked and said nothing.
“You,” Charlotte said, glaring at the woman. “What gives you the right? You come in here like you own the place. I — I don’t even know your damn name.”
“Most people refer to me as Mistress Nguyen at first meeting. In fact, I rather insist upon it. But seeing as we probably started off on the wrong foot, I feel as though you should be entitled to call me Betty.”
“You still wanna buy my wife, Betty?” Charlotte spat. Apparently she wasn’t convinced yet.
Miss Natasha piped up, “Charlotte, honey—”
“It’s alright, Natasha,” Mistress Nguyen said. “I’ll explain. I feel somewhat responsible for this mess.”
Dragon Lady looked at Charlotte, but her gaze had softened to the point where she almost approximated an honest, caring member of the human race. I leaned in to hear her explanation of the events.
“My offer of five-hundred thousand dollars is genuine, though not to employ the services of your wife. Tempting as that is.” Dragon Lady dragged a fingernail down Miss Natasha’s back. Natasha’s expression still had not softened. “I understand that you and your friend here are playing the part of world famous detectives, is that right?”
“Then I suggest you use your brilliant sleuthing skills to figure it out. I’ve already told you my offer of five-hundred thousand was not so that I could have my way with your wife. The other hint I will offer is that Desi, Karin and I are looking for something to bring us together again. We’ve spent far too much time on individual pursuits and we’ve lost our way.”
“You’re so damned dysfunctional, I’m not surprised,” Charlotte said.
Mistress Nguyen remained calmer than I would have expected. “You’re right of course. Particularly after seeing what a tight bond you and Miss Juliet have with Mistress Natasha. You were ready to jump across the table with your hands at my throat to come to her defense.”
“I — I’m sorry about—” Charlotte had let her chin drop just a bit.
“Nonsense.” Mistress Nguyen waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “I loved seeing that fire. If you had acted any other way, I would have been disappointed.”
“So you’re going to stop belittling my wife now?”
“Charlotte,” Miss Natasha said.
I felt it was my turn to speak up. After all, I had been watching most of this without the same intense emotional investment as Charlotte, and I had my own theory about what was going on.
“Do you like it Miss Natasha?” I asked.
There was another thick blanket of silence laid over the room. From the corner of my eye, I spied the naked forms of Esme, Lenore, and Zaheera crowding around the adjoining doorway.
“Yes,” Miss Natasha internet casino said softly.
Charlotte’s eyes went wide. She sat tight-lipped, taking deep breaths for a few seconds and then turned her gaze to Miss Natasha. “Would you like to continue?” Charlotte said. “While Juliet and I solve the case?”
Miss Natasha chewed her lip for a moment before she piped up. “If it’s alright with you, baby. I’m sorry. I really should have asked first.”
“It’s alright Mistress, I’m sure Betty will be more than happy to punish you for your transgression. There’s a ruler in the center desk drawer of the office upstairs.” Charlotte winked at Mistress Nguyen. “Other than that, I think the usual rule should apply. No orgasms outside of my presence. Does that seem fair, honey?”
Mistress Natasha nodded. Her face was flushed, and she looked as if she were about to go misty-eyed. I think Charlotte just made her day.
Mistress Nguyen wrapped her hand in Miss Natasha’s hair and dragged her upright as she herself stood. Mistress Nguyen stepped over to our side of the table with a naked and shuddering Natasha in tow.
“I’m sure you won’t have to worry, Miss Charlotte,” Mistress Nguyen whispered. “I can keep her on edge for hours if necessary. Shall I call for you when she’s begging?”
Charlotte nodded. “Not right away. We have a mystery to solve. That could take some time. Maybe all night.”
Mistress Nguyen cracked a wry smile. “I’m sure Natasha and I can manage. Can’t we, my dear?”
I watched as Betty reached down with her free hand to tug on the neon green plug lodged in Miss Natasha’s heinie. She pulled until Miss Natasha was stretched out enough for me to determine that it was indeed the one at the top end of the trio of sizes. Miss Natasha groaned and whispered a quick, “Yes, Mistress,” before Betty released it to get suck back inside.
I felt a small surge of jealousy as Miss Natasha hobbled away toward the stairway.
“The five-hundred thousand dollar mystery,” I said, stroking my emergency mustache.
“And we still have the matter of Desi’s pie,” Charlotte put in. “Specifically… who’s had their fingers in Desi’s pie. As you can plainly see, these holes are not dog-sized tooth marks, but rather, I estimate, the same diameter of a human finger.”
Charlotte then began stroking her own fake mustache. Without the distraction of having to watch her mistress squirm under Mistress Nguyen’s ministrations, she was starting to lighten up and get into the spirit of the party that our choice of attire hinted at.
“Monsieur Bouc,” Charlotte said, “I suggest we get started interviewing the passengers, right away. I should like to solve this mystery of Desi’s pie before the dining car begins serving dessert.”
“Um, Detective Poirot… Charlotte Poirot, I mean… We’re not on the Orient Express. And anyway, I was kind of hoping to be Mike Hammer if that’s alright.”
“Fine,” she huffed and then grinned. “Mr. Hammer, would you please inform the dinner guests that they are not to leave the house until I have had a chance to interview each and every one of them. For surely, as the world’s greatest detective, it will be an easy matter for me to sniff out—”
I tapped her on the arm.
“What is it, Miss Hammer?”
“Begging your pardon, Miss Poirot, I was hoping that we could be more of a team. You know, good cop, bad cop.” I fingered my emergency mustache. “Take ’em downtown and put the hot lights on ’em ’til they got no choice but to crack and spill their guts.”
In the distance I heard the distinctive crack of twelve inches of wood on a bare bottom, and then a sultry moan in the same register as Miss Natasha’s unmistakable contralto.
“Fine,” Detective Charlotte Poirot huffed. “We’ll interview those two characters last.”
I watched a slow smile beginning to spread over Charlotte’s face. The mood of the party had taken a much needed turn.
We’ve upped the ante with a surprisingly cool offer of five-hundred thousand dollars. But, if not to buy an evening of pleasure, what is it for?
Find out in Chapter 5: The Interrogation.
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