Fore! Play
By Fox
CHAPTER ONE: "The Invitation"
IT CAME in a simple, plain white envelope.
"Julia, look at this," exclaimed Alison as she sorted through her mail.
"We have an invitation!"
"Oui, Maitresse?"
"Here, be a good girl and open this for me." Alison passed the envelope
down to Julia. The girl did not move from her position at Alison's feet. Her
silver chains jangled as she accepted the envelope.
Julia wiggled a long red fingernail into the space where the paper was
folded down on itself and lightly glued. Expertly she cut the thin paper open
and removed the white card inside. She glanced at it but did not read it.
Lowering her head, she offered it to the woman in the chair.
Alison took the card from her slave's outstretched hand. She caressed
the naked girl's shoulder where the soft brown hair fell against the creamy
white flesh as she read aloud.
"Lady Meranda Augusta invites you to join her for the Annual Masters and
Mistresses Golf Tournament. Saturday August 7 at her private Country Club.
Accommodations and stabling are provided. R.S.V.P. 555-5201"
"Well, won't this be fun my sweet?" Alison pondered, a welcoming smile
spreading across her face. "I do believe we'll attend! Fetch the telephone,
Julia."
"Oui, Maitresse," replied Julia.
Alison watched her slave girl's buttocks move and sway as she crawled
away. Once again Alison commended herself on how effective and pretty her
slave's bondage. The sirik chain was an excellent idea, she thought. She loved
the way the slender silver links joined in the centre before reaching out to
connect with the brightly polished stainless steel wrist and ankle cuffs. Julia
was hobbled very effectively. The sirik ensured movements were limited but not
impossible. She could stand but awkwardly hunched over, not upright, which made
crawling the preferred method of locomotion. Which suited Alison just fine.
"Yes indeed, this will be a great deal of fun!" Alison mused.
-----
WHEN SHE WAS LITTLE, Meranda was oft referred to as "that cute but
mischievous Sommerfeld child". Named after a great aunt, Meranda Augusta
Sommerfeld rarely behaved like the model of ladylike propriety as was hoped for
by her family.
Grown up, her temperament was little changed. Her mischievousness was
legend among her friends; others thought of her as "that Sommerfeld bitch".
Meranda liked to make outlandish bets, which, if she won, usually placed her
opponent in an embarrassing situation. She also enjoyed malicious pranks, her
victims often never the wiser.
Meranda was employed in the underwriting department of an insurance
company when it happened. Friday afternoon, she left work as just another
minion; Saturday morning she awakened to a whole new life.
The lottery was worth $22.5 million. Meranda was the sole winner. It was
presented to her in a single cheque. At 28, she was suddenly a very wealthy
woman.
Her new found financial independence gave Meranda the opportunity to
pursue her dreams. First, the trip around the world: Venice, the Taj Mahal,
Paris, Bali. Then, there was the search for and purchase of the perfect property
where she could indulge in her passion for golf.
Her agent found the perfect location in the countryside, a half hour
drive from the city, on the banks of one of the many rivers that traverse the
province. Wooded areas, flat prairie, some small hillocks, a winding creek.
Almost pristine, for part had been farmed but was now left fallow. There was a
house, a barn, and some small buildings.
Plans were devised, contractors hired, and soon Meranda was busy writing
cheques. Every time she signed her name, her dream came closer.
And then it was done. All was ready. The clubhouse was designed with
privacy, comfort and of course, luxury in mind. It featured among its other
amenities, a white-linen dining room that could accommodate up to 100 people at
a sitting. Everything that a very exclusive, very private golf course needed,
was provided for, and then some. With her customary sense of humour, Meranda
named her private playground the "West Roissy Country Club".
There was no shortage of membership applications, even at the very high
fees Meranda charged. No shares were issued and only 50 members were accepted
each year. In fact, exclusivity was a very strong attraction for those who could
afford to pay; the challenging beauty of the course and the cordon bleu chef who
ran the dining room were bonuses.
There was one stipulation upon which there was no discussion: Meranda
reserved the country club for five days each season for her personal use.
Naturally, rumours abounded as to what took place.
For on this occasion more so than any other, Meranda Augusta Sommerfeld
truly indulged herself, combining her love for "the grand old game" with her
other passion.
