NOTE: For the sake of continuity, I've included the first part of this tale from my friend, MAS. My contribution so far, is below. - Slippers Chateau d'noir: A vacation in the Mountains ---------------------------- Concept by Master Anthony Stevens I reserve the following characters at this time and invite others to join in this tale with their own creations. Please start each of your additions with a "Part #" and your initials. Let's all have some fun with this, eh? MAS' Character List: Tony Marcus - "Master Mark" Debra Marcus - "Slave d" These characters are reserved for Slippers: Regina Carnifex - "Mistress Gina" [She owns the chateau] Doug Johnson - "Doggy" [Invited Guest of Mistress Gina] Sally Johnson - "Ponygirl" [Invited Guest of Mistress Gina] ---------------------------- Part #1 - MAS The afternoon sun creates a flickering dance of light and shadow that we're swimming through. My Z3 Coupe moves nimbly beneath us as we wind our way through a dense grove of trees. Damp grey boulders provide shoulders for huge trees to stand on one side of the narrow blacktop and the dense brush opens from time to time on the other side, to reveal a clear mountain stream, chuckling softly over ages of rock. We are still a few minutes away from the chateau. I glance at my beautiful companion. "I'm already starting to relax." She glances over at me and nods with a soft smile. "This whole valley is beautiful. I can't believe how lush and how many shades of green there are... Oh! Slow up! Isn't that the entrance?" She's pointing at a small wooden sign next to a gravel drive. "ContrariDance... Yep! That's Gina's place alright. We're here!" I turn into the drive and just a few feet in, there is a steel swing gate on river stone pillars. I note the fence on either side has an insulated top wire. A matching riverstone post on my side has a speaker and a button to announce ourselves. "Good afternoon!" The voice from the post continues. "Come on in. We've been expecting you." The gate is slowly opening and we head up the winding drive, the gravel under our tires is announcing our approach. The gravel gives way to a blacktop parking area that can hold at least a dozen cars comfortably, a large marble fountain in the center and the covered pavillion entry wide enough for two cars at a time. I park between a newer Hummer and an older Ferrari, get out and hold the door for 'D'. This is actually a good excuse to enjoy watching her. She's a lovely blonde with long legs, accentuated by the dark blue spandex minidress and high heels. "This place is huge!" She's scanning the facade before us. Two stories tall, log construction with river stone trim and a steep metal roof, twin gables and a full width pavillion with a screened porch above it make for an impressive mountain retreat. "From what I've heard, this is just the main house. There is also a stable, barn and a couple of guest houses as well." As we step on to the pavillion deck, the front door swings open and Gina rushes out. "Welcome! Welcome, you two! I'm so very glad you managed to break free of all the urban noise and confusion." A quick hug and air kiss for both and she leads us inside. Gina is a lithe brunette in spray on tight blue jeans, high heel boots and a white, tucked-in button-down blouse that is open almost to the waist. A very thin white lace bra gives tantalizing peeks of her ample cleavage. (That's enough for tonight - more to come - feel free to hop in) MAS Chateau Noir Part 2 Welcoming Continued By Slippers, 2005 All rights waved, you may duplicate, change, alter, ignore, enhance, abuse, arouse, explore, investigate, stimulate, improve, critique, play with, or erase any part or all, at your pleasure. Mistress Gina cocked her hip and delicately laid her right hand to her dark blue, designer denim. A quizzical look lifted her right eyebrow. “Wherever did those Johnsons get to? They called when they reached the off-ramp at the interstate,” she paused as a tall, muscular white man in a black tuxedo leaned a silver tray toward her. She lifted a small crystal wine glass with a short stem from the platter, ignoring the servant with thick, wavy blonde hair and bright green eyes. He moved off to his right, gracefully offering drinks. The estate owner continued, “If he’s driving, he’ll be arguing his way is best, even if he knows it isn’t. If she’s driving, she’ll be using that OnStar map program and talking on her cell phone, doing ten different things at once, till her husband is properly enraged and he’ll explode, then she’ll get what she wanted in the first place it seems, a reason to ignore him or argue. He probably likes that too, the lazy, arrogant wanna-be dom. They have such issues.” Gina turned with sudden buoyancy in her step, her small suede boots clicking as the heels clipped up the marble stairway in the entrance. “This will be so good for them!” She exclaimed. Chelsea Dobler carefully spaced pictures of a large black stallion, a sleek chestnut mare, with a picture of her entire horse ranch from the air, centered between. At twenty-seven, she was no stranger to a hard day’s work, but unloading and setting up had wore out the manager and co-owner of Plantation Stables, Louisville Kentucky. A quick knock announced Gina’s entrance, smile in place. Gina had calmed down measurably, moving forward with her arms slowly expanding out. The normally bouncy Chelsea took a few extra moments to stand, but from exhaustion, not regret. Both laughed lightly, arms entwining each other. Chelsea being shorter, embraced at the hips, while Gina hugged the younger woman with short blonde hair, around the neck with genuine affection. They paused for a moment, then separated, smiles on both as they both sat. “Have you unloaded your horse trailers and all that? I noticed the U-Haul was gone after noon.” Gina crossed her right leg over her left, sitting on the edge of Chelsea’s twin bed. “Yes, I met those Montana ranch hands and we all unloaded together. It made it fun, though I never realized how differently they view animal training out west compared to Louisville, Kentucky. Between my tethers and their barrels and our tack and harnesses, we filled that west barn Mizz Gina.” “Please dear, I prefer Mistress Gina, but as you are a specially hired professional here, you may call me Gina, alright?” “Okay.” “Splendid. The three you met were Grady, Tina and Jimbo Shatler. Jim manages my acreage, north of Miles City. I go up there during foaling, and when I need to refocus. We all need to refocus from time to time, don’t we dear?” “Well, yes I guess that’s right Ma’am. I just need to tether a new stallion in the round pen for a spell, or trot cross country, and I’m right as rain.” Chelsea smiled against her better judgment. She didn’t want to seem too unprofessional, but simply the thought of a long, explorative trot across lush river valley grass, up hills of red clay, canopied by the pines and elms which populated the land around her family’s landholdings, was enough to swell Chelsea’s heart. Gina had a strange, far away look and smile, but blinked twice and continued. “Jimbo is very gifted at breaking, and his daughter has won as many riding trophies as your horses have won shows and races, dear. Being light and deft, she flies around barrels, it’s almost ballet, don’t you think dear?” “It can be, I s’pose. I noticed she’s even smaller than I am, and that’s saying somethin’! So the tall thin man with her, is her husband?” Gina smiled into her now empty glass. “Grady is Tina’s boyfriend dear. He’s an exceptional trainer. When it comes to roping, hunting, Grady is just the man to have around.” Gina’s long static pause so much as said there were times when he wasn’t the best in show, but Chelsea barely had time to draw a breath when Gina looked up. “Dear, I was there when your wonderful horse, Diana’s Prince won at the Downs, and when Polite Force garnered two out of three in the Triple Crown. But I asked you here not just for these accomplishments, but those with Lady Prance.” The young trainer cocked her head to the side, her bobbed hair bouncing lightly as she blinked. She blinked again and looked back at Gina. “Which, Ma’am? I’m not recalling any horse ‘a mine that,” Gina cut her off with a feather touch of her hand on Chelsea’s left knee. “Do you remember a woman named Robin that came to you last year? Do you recall her requesting you to train her in horse show? You said you’d never done anything like that before, do you remember?” Gina didn’t smile openly but her voice lilted. She noted Chelsea’s facial blush, and her squirming. “Well, Ma’am I do now yes. It was nothing really, she just wanted to know what I do with a horse to get her ready for show.” Gina leaned back and smiled. “You are so humble, but word of your deeds has preceeded you darling. Did you work with her every evening for nearly a month?” Gina’s eyes were piercing. “Well, it may have been. I think it was. She didn’t stay with Daddy and I on the ranch. Normally she went home at night, ‘cept the last week.” “And I hear you helped her with modifications to her outfit?” Chelsea’s eyes roamed around the room, landing anywhere but toward Mistress Gina. “Yes, but just for authenticity, you understand. She had the wrong bells, the stirrups she had were for roping not for show, and well, other things like that.” Chelsea became aware of how small her room was, and how close the two ladies were sitting, across from each other. Their knees were seven inches apart but the young trainer could almost feel the heat from her hostess’ blue jeans radiating to her own. “Dear, she told me that when you worked her in the yard, on the tether, with the crop, that you were firm but compassionate, would you agree?” Chelsea’s ears were nearly purple, and Gina felt herself excited by how easily it had been to arouse and unsettle the young horse trainer. “Would you say you are firm, but compassionate?” “Yes.” Chelsea looked up, with new resolve. She had stood in the winner’s circles in dozens of shows and races, she knew she was good at her life’s calling. “Do you know Robin well?” “Robin, or Lady Prance as she is known in certain circles, is a dear, dear friend of mine.” The Mistress ceased talking but her shift in seating spoke volumes. “Well, I did kinda wonder how she got along. We kinda became friends, ya know.” “Darling Chelsea, Robin not only competed in that national competition in Las Vegas, citing you as her trainer in absentia, but my dear, she won it! And, by such a landslide that she’s now a contract for several ponie videos and written a top twenty how-to book on the subject. Not only are you one of the world’s foremost horse trainers dear, but you are the trainer for the National Ponygirl Champion, it would appear. How does that make you feel dear? You didn’t know, did you?” Chelsea’s bosom swelled with pride, for her own training abilities, and for the nice lady that got her lifelong desire. She felt very happy, eyes misting up for the vivacious woman that showed her another side of life, one short winter ago. However, she felt mostly embarrassed, picking the lint from her blue flannel button up shirt. Gina rose, standing beside the young girl, holding her head against Gina’s hip with both her soft, firm hands. “Darling Chelsea, the sizable contract we signed was for training, and training you shall do, but don’t worry dear. Here, at Chateau Noir, your achievements in Louisville Kentucky make you known, but Robin’s victory in Las Vegas makes you idolized, special and prized and envied, and I am very pleased you are here.” Chelsea choked, and looked up, tears running over their boundaries and down the young blonde’s cheeks. Gina’s were watery now as well, and they both giggled nervously. Gina stepped by the physically fit young woman, relishing the feel of her thick bobbed hair, the smell of straw and the touch of Chelsea’s soft flannel shirt for only a moment, then setting her head back and shoulders squared, she strode out Chelsea’s door, boots clicking on the tile. “Dinner’s in the main dining room, darling. Dress appropriately and I will see you at Seven.” Chelsea leaned back onto her bed, recalling the dancer she had trained, the strange new experiences they shared, and all the minute tasks that went into tooling up a training program that would take her from interpretive dancer, to the Winner’s Circle. Unable to properly calm down, she gathered her towel, shower bag and shoes, and made her way to the ladies’ bath and showers at the end of the hall.