The OWLS Club Pt. 11

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The OWLS Club

The story is about a group of people, an actual place, and a dream. While having a none too subtle dig at society in general. This is a work of pure fiction. None of the characters are real people, nor do they represent real people. It is a slow burn, a lot of romance and some gratuitous sex for those who need to get off on it. It is based in Australia so I have used local language. There is some Italian and French conversations, so if you want to really become attached to the characters I strongly recommend you use a google translator. It will help with the flow of the conversations. As I use the Queen’s English, I will apologise in advance to my American friends for the correct spelling of some words.

Some of the place names are correct.

There is no underage sex involved.

***It has been pointed out to me, on numerous occasions that the inclusion of French or another language, is somewhat distracting from the flow of the conversation. I will leave them in the story, as I want you, the reader, to engage with each of the different characters, form a bond with them. So please, use a French to English translator [I use Google] it adds to the story.***

Chapter 11 — The Tunnels.

I turned to Michelle, and told her I want to take these paintings home with us. She put her hands on her hips, sighed and said “Yes Mistress.”

I then hurriedly returned into the darkened room, and moved towards the light, where Erica was shining the torch on the floor for me, so as I wouldn’t trip over some of the rubble on the there.

“What is it?” I asked excitedly “Another dozen cases of wine?”

She stood there shining the torch onto the back wall, down near the floor. In the wall there was an ornate looking grate. Old dirty looking, I turned to Erica and asked “What is it?”

She then shone the torch onto a second one and then a third one.

I looked at her with a blank look on my face, “So what are they?” She never said a word but just looked at me. “Don’t you know?”

“No I don’t bloody know, so tell me, for crying out loud.” I demanded.

She bent down and shown the torch into one, picked up a handful of dirt and dust and let it fall in front of the grate, the fine particles of dust blew away from the light.

Again I looked at her in bewilderment. “What am I looking at Erica, I’m not in the mood to play guessing games sweetie.”

“Kathleen, there is air movement coming from somewhere to blow that dust around. We are in a cellar, underground, what DO YOU think it means?” She asked me with a smile on her face, which I could just make out in the light.

I knelt down, put my hand up to the grate which in fact was a vent. I turned and looked at Erica, she was almost laughing. “There is an opening somewhere for that air movement to blow into here.” She told me directly.

I sat down with a thump onto my backside. Looked up at her, tears in my eyes. “The tunnels?” I asked.

“Maybe.” She replied, “But there is something more behind these walls.” She shone the torch along the wall, nothing stood out, to me, as being out of place.

There was noises in the main room as the builders returned. A lot of shuffling of feet, a bang as something heavy was dropped and an almost feminine voice dropped the ‘F’ bomb then apologised to Michelle.

I looked at Erica and asked inquisitively, “I wonder if these guys have the time to start looking behind these grates?”

“Let’s go and ask them, but I seriously doubt it. I had to do a fair bit of arm twisting to get them here today.” We both stood up and I brushed myself off as we started to walk towards the door.

“Hang on a second love.” I asked, then put my hand on her shoulder and started to brush some dust off her back and then some imaginary dust off of her backside.

“You right there?” She asked. Looking over her shoulder at me.

“You had a dusty backside, I was cleaning you up.” I told her.

“Yes I’m sure that’s what you thought. It was you who sat down in the dirt Kathleen.” She reminded me.

I smiled and patted her butt one more time at which point she swatted my hand away and growled “Enough!”

We re-entered the cellar through the ragged opening in the wall, and our eyes took a short while to readjust to the light. Two of the builders were standing over a piece of RSJ steel beam with a measuring tape in hand, while a third one was busy chatting to Michelle. I smiled at the thought of what they might be chatting about. Michelle was extremely good looking and she looked so sexy dressed as she was.

Erica stated talking to the head man of the group, pointing to the wall. There was some shaking of heads, and laughing, a good sign I thought. Then some nodding and a hug from Erica. Which gave me a feeling of optimism. She came back towards me smiling, and told me.

“We are going to get charged an arm and a leg, but they will have another crew here day after tomorrow to start on it. They are going to put the lintel up today but they have to shoot off.”

“Excellent, let me get escorts in london Mia on the phone and we can get started on this whole project.” I stated.

“Whoa lady, not so fast. These guys are only helping me out of a short term problem. They can’t be the main contractors for the whole project. But let’s get Mia involved, she is your Project Manager that’s her job.” She explained.

I rang Mia, her phone was answered by Emily, “Mia’s phone. Emily speaking.”

I smiled to myself. “How very professional you sound Em, is Mia available?” I enquired.

“Hi Aunt Kathy, sure thing.” I heard the phone being passed over and some papers rustling.

“HI Kathy, how can I help?” She said in a light and breezy voice.

“Something has happened down here and I am sorry to have to drag you all the way back here today, but can you, and I along with Erica put our heads together on this cellar business today please?” I asked. Erica put her hand on my arm, so I stopped talking as I asked Mia to hold on.

“Can Emily come down too I want her to look at a couple of things with me.” She asked into the phone.

“Mia did you get all that?”

“Yep, no drama’s. In fact Kathy we should arrange a regular meet so things don’t get lost in translation.” She advised me. “And today is a perfect day to start. As the old saying goes. ‘Every journey starts with the first step’. I have some people I would like to get involved, good, smart people, but they are young types.”

“Nothing wrong with young people.” I reminded her. “And yes I agree on all counts.” I replied. “And Mia, I can’t afford to hold your hand every day with this, I have other things on the boil too. So once we sign off on something it will be up to you and Erica to make it happen.” I told her

I looked at Erica, she smiled and nodded. Then mouthed the words to me. ‘She’ll be right’.

Mia came back onto the phone. “Kathy, I wouldn’t want it any other way. Both Emily and I understand what we are in for, we know we have to make this work and we will. We won’t let you or Erica down, please trust me on that.”

“Mia sweetheart, you wouldn’t have the job if I had any doubts.” I told her bluntly.

We said our good byes and I pressed the button to end the call.

I smiled at Erica, nodded my head, feeling confident, as I looked over at Michelle sitting on the stairs, again talking to the young builder. Laughing and I saw a hand resting on his leg. I know the signs when I see them.

I called out to Michelle.

“Michelle, venez me rejoindre s’il vous plaît. Et amenez votre nouvel ami.”

Looking at Erica I told her that I am going to find out about Michelle’s German skills. She nodded and excused herself as she needed to freshen up. The age old excuse to give two people the privacy they required.

Michelle and the young builder approached me. I held out my hand to the young builder who took it and shook it firmly. “I am Kathleen Ambrose and you are?”

Now that he was close to me I could see the he was in fact a she. “Hello Kathleen I am Louise Maguire, but I answer to Lou or Louie, mostly.”

“Well Louie, do you see the Collar on my Michelle?” I asked bluntly. She nodded. “Do you know what it means or represents?” “Not really” She replied. “I thought it might be some French thing?”

I smiled, a smile an old lady gives sarcastically to someone she wants to throttle. “It means she is owned.” I empathized the word ‘OWNED’. “By me, she lives with me, she is mine!” as my voice started to rise.

Turning to Michelle, once again the smile on my lips was not one of pleasure but one of sending a message, and the message was clear, I was displeased.

“Michelle, je ne suis pas satisfaite de votre exposition publique. Vous avez beaucoup à apprendre. Vous resterez à mes côtés à partir de maintenant, en fait je pense que vous devriez être en laisse quand nous sommes en public.”

Handing her the electronic key to the car I told her to load the paintings, carefully into the back seat.

She stood there ashen faced.

“So you should be worried my girl.” There was no longer a smile on my face.

Erica returned, looked at the unfolding scene. Took it all in immediately. Spoke directly to the young builder. “About time you did some work isn’t it?” Louie moved off biting her lip, to help her workmates.

Then looked directly at me and saw both anger and determination in my eyes. Then looked at Michelle. Put her hand on my arm and spoke to Michelle.

“Young lady, you have over stepped the mark.” And with that turned back to me and asked. “What’s next?”

“I want to get these paintings home and get someone to start work translating these letters. I told her.

Trying desperately to subdue the anger within, I took an extra deep breath. Then remembered I hadn’t rung my little brother.

I dialed his number he answered almost immediately. “Hi, what’s happening?” he asked.

“A lot to be honest. Where to start.” I stopped and gathered my thoughts, then begun to explain, as directly as I could. Escort in dubai “We have found 75 bottles of very rare wine, a gift to an princess of some kind from Napoleon Bonaparte the 3rd. Now listen to this, worth about a million dollars.” I stopped there, waiting for a comment. Nothing, ok some heavy breathing and I had to ask if he was still there.

“You are pulling my leg aren’t you?” was his first response. Then more silence. More heavy breathing.

“No little brother, I am telling you the truth. The paintings, oh my, those paintings. You are going to have to see them to believe what I am going to tell you. I going to take them home so meet me around there, you had better bring Cynthia and Miriam. And NO I’m not kidding.”

I took another deep breath. “Terry, there are a handful maybe more of love letters, all written in German, I am going to get them translated, but what little we have translated so far, they are between a Mary Ambrose and a woman called Amalie Marie Birkenfeld, from Saxony in Germany. Terry, they are very eerrr expressive and HOT even by my standards.” I told him

It took a little while for a reply to come back. There was steel in his voice. For the first time in many many years my younger brother became alive.

“Kathleen what are we going to do with all this?” he demanded to know.

“Wait.” I told him, “there is a one more. A BIG one more, we think we have found a tunnel!”

“NO WAY.” He shouted down the phone at me. “Where?”

“Erica found 3 small vents in the back back wall. Even now there is an air flow coming in from somewhere.” I explained. “Erica is arranging for a qualified builder to do some excavations for us. These guys here are just helping us out by knocking a hole in the wall.”

I took another deep breath as I heard Terry do the same thing at the same time.

I laughed as I remembered something he said a few days earlier. “Remember what you said about looking behind the wall, about family skeletons?”

“Yes I remember.” He replied. “Talk about a word spoken in jest.”

“First things first Terence, pick up your women, and come on down to the old homestead. We can all discuss everything there.” I told him.

“OK, what time?” He asked.

“As soon as you can get there. I am loading up everything now and heading straight home. So I’ll be there when you get there.” I explained.

“Alright, see you when we get there.” And he hung up the phone.

I turned to Erica, and asked her. “When you are finished with Emily, send her around home please.” I instructed her.

Then turned to look for Michelle. I noticed that the paintings were all gone and she was nowhere to be seen. The three builders were still manhandling the steel beam into place and I looked at the fit young body of Louie, her muscles bulging as she helped pushing the heavy piece into place. I took a deep breath and reminded myself of what I needed to do with my own young fit sub.

I said my good byes to everyone as I climbed the stairs to the foyer. I let my eyes adjust to the bright sunlight coming in through the front windows. Then headed out to the car. Michelle was sitting in the front seat reading more of the letters. I looked at her from a distance and reminded myself that one shouldn’t measure out discipline from a point of anger but from a point of learning. I asked myself, what did she do that was so wrong? Was it jealousy that made you angry or does she just have to be told, to learn? Didn’t I promise her that I would train her, teach her?

I straighten my back and walked briskly towards the car. She looked and put the letters down into her lap and put on her seat belt. Waiting for me. I got into the car. Looked at her and said.

“Do you know why I am angry with you Michelle?”

“Yes Mistress, I was flirting in public and did not ask your permission to do so.” She said as a matter of fact.

“Yes, you wear my Collar do you not? Maybe I rushed into this a little too quickly with you. Maybe my lust got the better of me?” I told her as I started the car and reversed into traffic, to be greeted with screeching brakes and loud screaming voices and car horns.

I cursed at myself as Michelle braced herself for what we both thought would be a collision. A horn sounded again and again as the loud voice shouted at me. “Bloody stupid women drivers, learn to drive you fuck wit.” I waved my hand as a symbol of apology and drove off. Looking into the rear vision mirror at the vehicles all over the road. Having just avoided me.

Michelle looked at me with a surprised look on her face.

“Mistress you drive like a Frenchman.” Then laughed at me.

I couldn’t help but laugh as well. That eased the tension we were both feeling.

“Don’t think you are getting off so lightly my girl. I will teach you better manners later tonight. But first you are going to meet the rest of the family. That should be punishment enough, but it won’t be. You are to say nothing in English when they are there, understood?”

“Oui Maîtresse.”

My phone Dubai Escorts rang, it was Erica, I handed the phone to Michelle to answer.

“Ello Erica, it is Michelle, Mistress is driving. Yes we are alright, just some silly Australian driver didn’t see my Mistress coming out and then blamed her for causing him to brake. Yes I will get Mistress to call you when we get home.” She pressed the off button and placed the phone in my lap, resting her hand neatly into the centre of my lap. I looked at her and breathed deeply.

We arrived home safe and sound, and we took the paintings into the house.

We set them up in the formal front room as I felt that was the most fitting of places. They were lent up against the far wall, all four in what I thought was the right sequence and I went and grabbed a cleaning cloth to rid them of the built up dust and dirt.

Michelle was carefully studying them while sitting crossed legged on the floor. Her head was cocked to one side staring at the corner. I was about to start wiping them down when Michelle screamed at me in her crude French derelict.

“NON Kathleen ne les touche pas. ils doivent être nettoyés par un expert, pas par une personne maladroite. Maîtresse venez regarder la signature.”

She startled me. I froze and glared at her. I thought to myself again ‘no anger, no anger’.

“Whose signature?” I asked her.

“Here this one.” As she pointed to the bottom right hand corner. There in a corner was someone’s initials.

I didn’t recognize it, it was just a scribble on an old painting.

She looked up at me again, and said that she thinks it is someone very famous. VERY famous.

“Who?” I asked “H.T.L.” She replied. “But I cannot be for certain, I do not know how he did his signature.”

I sat down in an arm chair, letting everything that the day had sent us, settle in my brain. A million dollars’ worth of wine, 4 semi-pornographic paintings of possibly my Great Grandmother 4 times removed, by someone calling themselves H.T.L. and a hidden tunnel everyone thought was a myth. What else could the day bring?

My brain was in a spin. Four paintings possibly by a famous artist T.L. This isn’t possible, these sorts of things don’t happen to the likes of us. Who is a very famous painter named H.TL.

The penny dropped.

I sat there stunned.

Michelle sat on the floor studying the other paintings, looking into the corners.

“Mistress, do you have, how do you say a loupe?” She asked of me

“A magnifying glass.” I told her “and yes I do, somewhere.” I replied. “In the utility room, in one of those draws.” I told her. She got up and ran down the hallway to the back of the house. Several minutes later she came running back, with a magnifying glass.

Again she sat crossed legged in front of the first painting. Then she moved along to the next each time looking on the bottom corner.

“They are all signed the same way Mistress. But different, if you know what I mean.” She explained.

“So you are an expert in paintings too?” I asked in a warm way.

“No Mistress, but my other Mistress, the one who sent me away, her wife does work for Galerie Tokade and they have very many works of Henri Toulouse Lautrec. She use to tell me about them.”

“Êtes-vous en bons termes avec votre ancienne maîtresse?” I asked.

“Oui, un peu je pense. Mais même si je ne l’étais pas, elle voudrait les connaître. Ils font peut-être semblant bien sûr.” Michelle replied.

She stood up and stretched her arms and legs, bending over in front of me, the jeans pulling tight over her rear end. The tease I thought. I will be reminding her of all these little things later tonight in the play room.

“Michelle.” I said. “You should go and change your clothes, put one of those coloured shirts on and don’t tie it up, just buttons and tucked into your jeans, the dress jeans.” I told her.

“Oui Maîtresse.”

She went and disappeared into her room and was gone for some twenty minutes. When she returned I was in the kitchen sitting at the island bench with a coffee in hand. I had poured her one. She came around behind me, hugged me from behind, resting her head on my shoulder blades. She kissed my neck and whispered to me. “I am sorry for misbehaving badly today Mistress.”

I swung my legs around while sitting on the stool, held her face in my hands, she had fresh lipstick and eye liner. She had once again ventured into my room and used my chanel . She looked so good. I kissed her passionately. Looked into her eyes. And told her. “I will teach you and you will learn.”

“Yes Mistress.”

We sat next to each other at the bench, I held her hand, I asked her what she thought of everything we had seen today. She replied that it is a real life mystery.

“Cases of wine, worth a lot of money, beautiful paintings maybe by a famous artist, a hidden tunnel re-discovered. So many things to think about Mistress. I think I am a very lucky French jeune fille.” She said quietly to me. Then turned and kissed me deeply, “Thank you for trying to train me to be a better person.”

I was about to kiss her again when I heard footsteps coming down the hall way. “In the kitchen Terry.” I put my finger to my lips suggesting she should now go into French mode. She nodded.

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