Read Guardian Girl (The Chronicles of Staffordshire) Online
Authors: NC Simmons
Tags: #Adult Fiction
Sonia leaned in, face-to-face. “Not at this moment, eh? So when, huh? Care to elaborate…? Sir?”
An adorable little gulp slipped past Rory’s lips. “Well… Uhhh… Not just yet, Miss Nichols. But I promise you… I’ll show you a few places during the tour that will help fill in the blanks.”
Getting nowhere fast, the tarty applicant heaved up a sigh and took a different approach. “Fair enough. You’re being a gentleman on the first date. I respect that in a man. So here’s my next question. You said I’d be responsible for hiring the staff. Does that mean I get to personally recruit and interview the
male
staff?”
Rory shook his head at the applicant’s one-track mind. “Yes, Miss Nichols. You will personally screen, interview, and select of
all
of the male staff…”
“YES!” She fist-pumped in delight.
“And…” Rory continued with a wink, “all of the
female
staff.”
Sonia’s eyes popped in astonishment, her mouth dropped open. Did the boss just suggest she would also screen the talents of the female applicants? “Mr. St. Cloud!”
“As I said, Miss Nichols, you will want for nothing at Staffordshire.”
As Rory took a pause, it seemed as good time a time as any to share a sticky little stipulation to Sonia’s employment.
“By the way, Miss Nichols… Since we are speaking so… ‘Candidly…’ There is one requirement every employee must fulfill for the duration of their relationship with my family. This is a game-changer for most applicants. From our little time together I don’t think this will be a problem for you, but I believe you must make an informed choice.”
“Do tell, sir…”
“Because we enjoy the freedom of frequent — well, let’s call them
‘intimate
encounters’ — here at Staffordshire, we require
all
employees and all adult family members to submit to weekly blood screening. This applies to
all
members of the St. Cloud family, including me. Part of your job as my personal assistant will be to maintain a log of all intercourse, supervise our blood screening schedules, and ensure the overall accuracy of our health records.”
Sonia’s libido chilled. Her jaw dropped.
“HOH-LY SHIT! Intercourse log? Blood screening? Ohhh… myyy… GOD!”
“We also insist that women of childbearing age take birth control at all times. This may sound somewhat peculiar - especially given our choice of lifestyle - but we do not condone abortions. All pregnancies, whether planned or unplanned, must be carried to term. Should a woman desire to have a family, we will gladly make all necessary arrangements to ensure her comfortable, continued presence on our staff, including the support of Paulson degreed nannies as necessary. We will also broker adoptions, if desired, with families of the highest social caliber.”
“No abortions? OH MY GOD! They’re fucking Republicans!”
“So, Miss Nichols… To put this simply… We do not believe in spoiling the beauty and joy of sexual intimacy with worries about sexually transmitted diseases or unwanted pregnancies.”
With a concerned frown, Sonia raised her index finger. “Uhhh… Sir… Uhm… Isn’t it a little dangerous to… you know…?”
“To what…? Isn’t what dangerous…?” Slightly confused, it took Rory a moment to figure out Sonia’s angle.
And then he did.
“Dear God, Miss Nichols! NO! I am NOT
suggesting that we do not believe in using protection! I am simply suggesting that we build every
precaution
into our activities here at Staffordshire. We are well aware that ‘accidents’ do happen, even with condoms and regular birth control. We
all
accept the responsibilities that come along with our playtimes.
Sonia breathed a partial sigh of relief. “Phew… You had me worried for a bit. Thanks for clearing that up, sir.”
“Although… I cannot deny, Sonia… Within the walls of this estate… Among those who willingly limit their sexual partners to members of the staff or family… We rarely use condoms. When a playful moment strikes, we find their use somewhat cumbersome.”
Sonia sucked her relieved sigh right back into her mouth with a gasp. “
‘Cumbersome?’ Condoms? HOLY SHIT!”
Forcing herself to reign in a raving freak out, Sonia squinted at Rory and pieced together the employer’s “candid” statements..
“Then again… If they get tested all the time… Maybe spontaneous cum-bustion could be fun? He probably makes love like a stallion if he’s had that much practice. But… ‘Cumbersome’…? Yick!”
The time for playfulness was over. There was business to conduct. The interviewer was about to dip the interviewee’s libido into a liquid nitrogen bath. It was time to talk about…
“The Catch.”
“There is one more thing you must consider, Sonia and it is not a small consideration. You must think carefully about what it will mean for you as an employee and as a woman. If you attach yourself to Staffordshire you must willingly limit your pool of potential partners. Should you join my staff, your contract will stipulate that you will not have sexual relations with
anyone
but another member of the Staffordshire staff, adult aged St. Cloud family members, adult family members of the staff, or with pre-screened adult guests who willingly subject themselves to our tracking process before, during, and after their visit to our home. This requirement will also apply to your selection of future partners, fiancés, or husbands.”
Staring incredulously, Sonia lifted her palm and closed her slackened jaw.
“There is more, Miss Nichols…”
“Oh boy…”
“Your contract will give me the right to personally approve or deny your relationships with any outsider, including potential boyfriends or girlfriends. I keep a private detective agency on retainer that routinely follows-up on staff when they are away from the estate to ensure you maintain a risk-free lifestyle beyond these walls. Your every move, both within and beyond the boundaries of the estate, may be photographed and reviewed by me personally — without your knowledge — at any time I wish.”
“Good grief. Sonia, dear, you’ve just become one of the ‘Stepford Wives.’ This guy’s perpetually horny AND perpetually paranoid.”
Sonia’s eyes widened.
“Wait a minute… Did he say… ‘Girlfriends?’ AGAIN with the lesbian angle! Do I LOOK like a lesbian, Jack?”
“That limitation and a constant sense of intrusiveness has scared off some women, Miss Nichols, particularly those who might wish to have a family someday.”
Rory stopped, letting the full impact of Staffordshire’s unique opportunities and restrictions sink into Sonia’s stupefied skull.
“Miss Nichols… I know that is a lot to absorb. How does all of that make you feel?”
The slow, steady blink of Sonia’s stunned eyes, the way her head swiveled lazily, taking in the home’s opulence, and the thoroughbred standing inches away…
Sonia’s, “Houston, we have a problem!” stupor gave Rory the smirks.
Tantalized and throttled, the oversexed, job-desperate MBA weighed the risk/reward ratio and the high probability of impending fellatio.
“So, Sonia… St. Scalding Fuck wants to know… ’How does this all make you feel?’ Uhhh… Mr. St. Megaloaded, sir… Off the top of my head it makes me feel like I oughta run for my car and high-tail it to the closest sanitarium! This place is NUCKING FUTS!”
Sonia pressed her palms before her face in a prayer fold. Her eyes darted back and forth between the oh-so-kissable boss and his foyer fit for a king… and his queen… and the castle’s orgies…
“Good grief, Sonia! What have you gotten yourself into? This guy just told you you’re going to have sex all day every day. You’re going to hold the keys to the STD kingdom. And if by chance – WHOOPSIE! – you ever ‘accidentally’ get pregnant, you’re going to get stuck carrying the kid.
“OH YEAH! AND you you’re going to have a creepy detective taking secret pictures of you no matter where you go so St. Pervsalot can make sure you’re not fucking someone he doesn’t approve of.
“’How does this make me feel?’ It makes me feel like someone laced my morning Joe with LSD, THAT’S how it makes me feel! It makes me feel like you have Timothy Leary’s number in your Rolodex!
The boss had patience. As Sonia’s mind churned, he gave her space. Rory pulled a day planner from his inside jacket pocket and scanned upcoming appointments.
“Okay, Sonia… Slow down. Think this through… I mean… Think about it… There has to be an up-side, right? Think about it… You like sex. I mean… You REALLY like sex. And you haven’t had sex in months. Not with anyone but yourself, that is. And this guy is practically guaranteeing he’s going to make you scream a couple of times a week.
“Okay… The whole girl/girl thing sounds like something he picked up reading Penthouse Forum… I mean… It could be fun, but…
“Wait a minute! What are you saying? ICK! You’re not a lesbo! Forget the pussy! Focus on the man meat!
“Okay… Man meat… You get to create a kingdom full of Chippendale servant boys. Yeah… That could be fun. You could have buffed-up gardeners and groundskeepers running around with their shirts off all the time… That could be seriously sweet.
“You’re in charge of screening for the diseases. You get to pick the staff. You get to run the whole place without anybodies interference. You get to fuck the boss…”
Sonia’s eyes narrowed. She tilted her head slightly, peeking at the boss.
“Hmmm… You get to fuck the boss…”
Leering and licking her lips, Sonia eyed Rory up and down.
“…You get to have wild sex with your totally hot, totally loaded, BOSS…”
Upon returning his day planner to his jacket, Rory looked back to the candidate. He caught Sonia’s leering gaze. He blushed.
Sonia smiled and tapped her lips with her left index finger, thinking… Pondering… Plotting.
“Hmmm… Sonia, dear… If you take this job you’ll get to have sex with your stupid rich, mega-hot boss who owns his own mansion, his own company, and has God-only-knows how much money in the bank…”
“Uhhh… Mr. St. Cloud, let me get this straight…
If
you hire me, I will personally manage the screening process. I will personally meet and clear every adult – every family member, every staff member, every staff member’s family member, and every guest –– and I will personally approve everyone’s fitness to fuck like bunnies,
including
you?”
Rory smiled back. “Yes, Miss Nichols, you will personally supervise our ‘Cleared for Sex’ list.”
Sonia beamed, attempting to understate her glee with an artificially muted, disinterested tone. She flipped her hand with queenly aloofness. “Well… To answer your question directly, sir… I think I’m feeling pretty damned good about life right about now. You may continue.”
Rory chuckled and continued his lofty spiel, though Sonia didn’t pay much attention after hearing the phrase,
“Cleared for Sex List.”
“Sonia, dear, you’ve died and gone to nymphomaniac heaven. You get to draw a paycheck for your trouble. Ahhh… Life is good…”
“…And I am proud to say we have had no infections or unwanted pregnancies in the history of this house or our family…”
“Not a bad track record, I suppose… For a high society brothel.”
“So yes, Sonia. I can see you doing the math. We are quite ‘active’.”
“Let me just verify this for the record, sir… What you’re saying is… This place is one huge, non-stop orgy factory, everybody gets into the act, and if you hire me, I’m the new Madam in town?”
Rory paused to ponder the implications of Sonia’s question.
“Well… Yes… No… And yes.
Please keep in mind that
some
people do not ‘get into the act’.”
“Care to elaborate, sir…?”
“You see, Miss Nichols,
everyone
at Staffordshire protects the children. I intend to have a family someday. Most of the estate staff will also live here on the grounds with their families. None of us will want our children adversely impacted by adult encounters. So the public areas of the house and estate are made 100% child safe 100% of the time. Our children are
never
exposed to adult playtimes…”
The left corner of Sonia’s mouth curled upward in bemused disbelief.
“Oh c’mon, St. Scrumptious! You run an orgy factory and you think the kiddies aren’t smart enough to figure out the screams? Riiiiight.”
“…Appropriately loving, physical displays of affection such as lounging together in public areas are encouraged. After all, we are not ashamed of our affection for one another. But aggressive foreplay and open intercourse are
not
permitted when underage children are present.”
As Sonia mulled the incongruity of a swinging lifestyle remaining a secret directly under the noses of always-curious children, Rory pontificated.
“You see, Miss Nichols, we choose to educate our children in the beauty and responsibility of sexuality as soon as they reach puberty…”