MAXINE OUR SUNDAY GUEST
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The directions, which the Senator's staff provided, led us to a rough paved drive way entrance with a post and beam gate. I knew I was in the right place because there were armed guards, who looked like state police men at the gate. Fortunately there were no magnetometers for us to walk through. It would have been impossible of course, since the car I drove was metal. So was the 410 gauge stainless steel derringer inside my purse. Unfortunately, I would have to leave the pistol inside the locked car. There would likely be a search at the door with one of those cute hand wands and my handbag would also likely be opened.
The thing they were most unlikely to catch in their security scan was my new toy. It did not come from the geniuses at the farm, oh hell no, I had found it on line. I have no idea what possible everyday, real world use could be made of a hair brush, which converted into a plastic dagger, but there it was.
The only difference between the dagger and a plastic knife at McDonald's was simply the heft of the handle and blade. Also it had a very sharp point at the tip of the plastic blade. A restaurant's plastic picnic type knife bent when cutting a piece of chicken, but my dagger could be used to penetrate a man's ribs and stop his heart quite easily. The case which covered the blade doubled as a reasonably soft hair brush for my thin covering of hair.
While driving down the access road to the lodge, we passed several small cabins. The camp's architect had been a pretty clever guy indeed. The guest cabins were a one small room affair with standard height log walls. The roof super structure was post and beam as would be found in most cabins. However, all the exteriors above the log side walls were made of heavy canvas. The cabins would forever be extremely rustic in appearance. Even so they were winterized enough so that the electric fireplaces kept them warm and safe.
When we got to the lodge itself, we found that it was exactly the same construction only on a giant scale, Even in an orgy situation each cabin would comfortably hold no more than four people. The was built for a convention type meeting. It could be converted from a lecture hall, to a banquette facility, or a facility to house a good sized cocktail party.
"Sylvia, I want you to take a good look at the pictures of the different events that had been held in this hall. I am thinking we needed to promote meetings in the Drugstore condo's reception hall. We can do those kinds of things easily. We don't have to be limited to just Helen's bridal receptions." I said.
Since I wore the jet black wig, with the red dress that night. It was a quite striking look, even if I did say so myself and I might be the only one who would have. I would likely be described generously by a fashion writer as statuesque. A way to politely avoid saying tall, thin, and gnarly looking.
It took a few seconds for the men to get used to the way I looked, Sylvia was of course an instant sensation. Her glamor brought the guys around and after a couple of minutes with us, they realized that I also brought something to the party.
As the night wore on and the alcohol lubricated tongues began to wag, one of the party goers remarked to a friend, "Maxine is like one of the boys with a cunt." I wasn't sure that it was a compliment, but I pretended that it was and let him live.
I kept an eye on the Senator's Assistant. He didn't relax at all. He was working the party and it showed. I was about to give up, when the Senator and his friend left the party. As soon as the Senator was gone the staff let down their collective guards and joined the party. There was a totally different vibe in the place afterward. That one second changed the party dramatically.
First of all it added about ten men and only a couple of women to the crowd. Men, who had been pretty much even in number with the women, suddenly became the majority. Women object to being the minority only in a work environment, never at a party. We weren't a huge minority but it was still a significant number.
When the senator's aid showed up in front of Sylvia, even though I knew he would, I felt relieved. "My name is Jack Anderson, and no I'm not THE Jack Anderson," he said.
"Honey, I have no idea who the Jack Anderson is," I replied. "And I know my friend Sylvia doesn't have any idea at all." The three of us stood talking about what it was like to live in DC. He explained that he was from Massachusetts, so the weather was an improvement.
I was considerably older, but Sylvia was almost exactly his age. Jack was in his late twenties and thin without being sickly so. He was, all in all, an attractive young man. I fully expected him to hit on Sylvia, so I did my little Domme opening on him. It was mostly to judge the effect it had on him.
"Jack Honey, why don't you be a good boy and get Mommy a fresh drink?" I suggested.
I will give Sylvia credit. She waited until Jack was out of hearing before she asked, "What was that all about?"
"Just trying to see what lane he drives in," I said with a giggle.
"Maxine, I worry about you," she said with a smile. "What if I decide I want him?"
"Then I will watch you this time," I suggested.
"Crap, I don't know if I can do that," she admitted.
"Sure you can honey. It is much easier than it sounds," I suggested.
"Here you go Ms. Stone," Jack said.
"Please honey, call me Maxine or even Mommy if you like," I said.
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