(If you haven’t read the previous chapters— and you really should—check out one and two)

Tumperkin Presents…

He needed children for an advertising campaign. . .

All Cesar Machismo wants is to ensure the bambinos of the world experience the flavor explosion of his company’s newest baby-food, Thai Shrimp in Peanut Dressing. But when he goes to an orphanage looking for a new spokes-baby, he finds twins with eyes the color of pureed Cornish game hens. Mama Mia! He must take them home!

What he got was a ready-made family!

Content with her lot in life, Chastity Bliss slaves for her stepmother at the orphanage. This way she stays with her babies, though she can never acknowledge them. When Cesar adopts her twins, she follows as their nanny. What can she do? She has no choice, because though he doesn’t know it . . .

Cesar is their father!

This third chapter is brought to you by none other than the supremely brilliant, Tumperkin.

Chastity picked up her suitcase. It was more of an overnight bag really, so small that even her delicate arms could bear its weight. It was all she needed for her pitifully small number of possessions: a few drab clothes, some overalls for heavy cleaning, her precious marker pen - almost dry now but still with that soothing smell that calmed her troubled spirits - and finally, her most treasured possession, a small crumpled photograph of her giving birth to the twins, her titian curls plastered to her sweating, beetroot-coloured face. Not the most flattering of photos, true, but oh so precious!

The only thing that could have made the miracle of their birth more perfect would have been to have their father at her side - but that could never have been! Cesar had made it only too clear that he would have thrown her onto the cold wintry streets if she’d gone to him. No. She’d had no choice but to secretly install the twins in the orphanage and masquerade as a mentally deficient cleaner.

It was imperative that Cesar should not make the connection between herself and the delicate silver mer-creature he had made sweet passionate love to a full two years ago. The hair net had been useful as a temporary disguise but she needed something more permanent now. And she must hurry - Cesar was waiting for her in his luxury limo!

Swiftly Chastity raced to Gladys’s room. Her stepmother had a breathtaking collection of wigs and hairpieces. Gladys turned as she entered, a black hairpiece dangling from one hand.

“Chastity? I thought you were packing?”

“I need to borrow one of your wigs” Chastity replied breathlessly.

“Why?” Gladys took a step back, hugging the black hairpiece to her, her other arm going protectively to the door of her armoire. She loved her wigs like children. More than children. Certainly more than she’d ever loved Chastity, Chastity thought sadly.

“If Ces- Mr Machismo sees my hair he might guess I’m the twins’ mother,” she explained. And that he’s their father, she added silently. Gladys had no idea who the father was and Chastity would never tell her. Gladys would try to force Cesar to marry Chastity to rescue her from her shameful fate as an unmarried mother. Chastity could not bear that! The one thing she had left was her pride!

“You’re right,” Gladys agreed reluctantly. She opened the armoire and rifled inside, finally bringing out a shapeless blonde mop. Gladys only wore it when she was bathing her miniature schnauzer, Mr Bickerstaff.

It wasn’t even real hair, Chastity thought sadly. Just nylon.

“This will do,” Gladys said briskly. “Come here”.

Chastity walked forward obediently and allowed her stepmother to jam the unattractive hairpiece over her gloriously rioting titian curls.

Half an hour later, she descended the orphanage steps for the last time. She had drawn on a few more blemishes with her beloved marker-pen to add to her disguise. The marks weren’t quite as dark as the one she’d drawn on before - the blasted pen was running out! She would have to get a new one. But how? Would Cesar let her have a little pocket money in return for looking after the twins? Maybe if she offered to scrub the floors he’d let her have a few coins each month? For a small measure of financial independence, she’d gladly scrub Cesar’s solid Italian marble floors until she could see her own unhappy face in them…

***

Cesar shifted his powerful frame impatiently as he waited for the nanny to arrive. His limo was custom-built and extra-long to accommodate his powerfully muscular body with ease. With its built-in bar, TV, hip-bath and chocolate fountain, he wanted for nothing, no matter how long the journey.

Per meraviglia! Where was the girl? The babies were getting fractious, their small faces brown and sticky from their frolics in the chocolate fountain. Cesar glanced at the newly-purchased car seats the babies sat in, the harsh features of his powerful face forming a frown. When he got them back to the palazzo, he would have luxury car seats custom-built for them from the finest silks and satins money could buy. And his money could buy a lot, he thought with satisfaction, stroking his powerful chin with the strong brown fingers of his powerful left hand which were lightly dusted with crisp dark hair. His Discerning Babies would have nothing but the best!

At last the door swung open and the nanny climbed inside, stammering incoherent apologies.

“Rapidamente!” Cesar urged, seizing her wrist in his powerful grip and pulling her inside. The girl fell against him heavily. Close up, he saw how plain she was. She had several large moles and out of the hairnet, her hair was an ugly mess. And yet …. for un momento she seemed strangely familiar. Something about her smell? Strained peas and - what was that? - nail polish remover? No! Something else….

“Chiedo scusa,” Cesar murmured in a low, throaty, yet powerful growl as he held the girl against his powerful broad chest. She was so slender, so fragile! He could barely feel her weight against him! Despite her plain face and unforgivable hair, Cesar felt his powerfully pulsing love-member harden in his trousers like a newly-smelted iron bar. The girl scrambled off his lap, her delicate hands pushing at the powerfully rippling muscles of his straining thighs. Alarmed as she was, her eyes lingered on the massive betraying bulge in his trousers.

“Fasten your seatbelt,” he advised tautly.

“Y-yes, s-sir,” she stammered. But her slender fingers were trembling too much to obey his command. Sighing with frustration, he reached over, enveloping her small hand in his much larger, more powerful one which was lightly dusted with crisp dark hair. Smoothly he guided the hard, searching buckle into the willing depths of the slot with his strong hard fingers. It fastened with a satisfying ‘click’.

“You see, signorina?” Cesar husked, still covering her small hand with his own more powerful, darker one which was lightly dusted with crisp dark hair. “The buckle was made for the slot. They fit together perfetto.”

***

The airport at Bramblecombe was like a bustling metropolis, filled with families going on holiday and business commuters. To Chastity’s amazement, some of the business commuters were women! She stared at the unfamiliar creatures with undisguised curiosity, earning an unpleasant frown from one hard-looking woman with dyed blonde hair and razor sharp nails painted scarlet.

Chastity gasped at the loathing on the woman’s face, hugging tiny Miracle a little closer.

“Don’t worry, signorina,” Cesar murmured, curving one powerful arm protectively around her slender shoulders. “She is jealous. Maybe she thinks you are my wife and that these children are our bambini. Who could blame her for being envious?”

Chastity stumbled, almost dropping Miracle.

“Our children?” she said faintly as she readjusted her grip of the baby. “How ridiculous!”

To her consternation, Cesar laughed too, a powerful booming guffaw that echoed throughout the airport building. “Si, si!. Ridiculo!” he exclaimed as tears poured down his handsome powerful chiseled cheeks.

Cesar was still chuckling as he rushed them all through airport security and onto his luxury private jet. Once on board, Chastity couldn’t stop staring. The jet was the first word in luxury. And everything was white! White leather seats, white shagpile carpet, and, taking pride of a place in the centre of the cabin, a white marble jacuzzi!

“It’s - it’s - “ she stammered.

“Very expensive, cara,” Cesar drawled, running his strong brown fingers that were lightly dusted with crisp hair through the dark hair atop his powerful head. “The fuel alone is five times more expensive than for a regular aircraft.” He raised one powerful eyebrow. “Italian marble is heavy.”

“I was going to say beautiful,” Chastity whispered. Her eyes searched the cabin for a stain without success. “What do you do about spills? This white leather would mark so easily!”

“Simple. I rip it out and start again, signorina. Maybe I’ll do that anyway after this flight. I’m tired of white. I yearn for something more vibrant, more passionate! Orange perhaps. Like the hair of these bella bella bambini…” He reached out a powerful hand to gently stroke Miracle’s little head with strong brown fingers that were amazingly gentle for all their powerful strength - and lightly dusted with crisp dark hair. As he looked at the child, tears welled in his ebony eyes. “I knew a woman with hair that colour once. She was - “

“Mama! We fly aeroplane! We go Italy!”

Cesar’s reverie was interrupted by Marvel’s baby voice speaking with uncanny clarity. Cesar and Chastity turned as one to the child who grinned at them triumphantly.

“Dio! He speaks like a three year old!” Cesar marveled, his powerful chiseled cheeks taut with amazement.

Chastity picked up the 15 month old and turned to Cesar, her eyes shining with tears of happiness. “That’s the first time he’s ever said Ma-”. She stopped just in time. “M’aeroplane,” she finished, lamely.

“M’aeroplane? He didn’t say m’aeroplane! He distinctly said aeroplane. I heard him as clear as day and Cesar Machismo’s hearing is known to be more than normally acute! I think you need your ears syringed, signorina. Come, let us sit. Soon we will be taking off and I have arranged the finest airline meal you or these babies will ever have tasted!”

Chastity didn’t tell him she’d never been on a plane before. She was too busy wondering what he’d been about to say about the titian-haired woman he’d once known. Probably that she was a filthy whore, Chastity thought sadly.

The meal was indeed extraordinary. It started with an amuse bouche of lobster cappuccino, then roast scallops with an oyster veloute then braised lamb’s tongues with celeriac and sweetbreads then - well, after that Chastity lost count of the dishes. In truth, she wasn’t overly fond of the rich food, being more used thin vegetable soups and gruel. But the babies seemed to take to the gourmet fare with remarkable ease. And when she suggested that perhaps carpaccio of milk-fed Kobi beef was not suitable for tiny tummies, Cesar waved her protests away with his powerful hand that was lightly dusted with crisp dark hair.

“Look at them, signorina!” he bellowed. “They love the carpaccio, and who would not? It is one of the finest dishes in all Italy!” He masticated his own carpaccio with his powerful white teeth.

True enough, when she looked at the babies, their small mouths full of wafer-thin raw beef, they did look happy. Besides, what could she do? She had no choice but to let Cesar feed them what he wished…..

***

“Wake up, signorina.”

Chastity stirred awake, only to realise with mortification that she had fallen asleep on Cesar Machismo’s powerful shoulder. Furtively she checked that her wig was still in place - it was - and lifted her head. Cesar was staring down at her with inscrutable ebony eyes.

“Look out of the window, signorina,” he ordered.

She did - and was almost dazzled.

“Wh - what is it?” she cried in wonder.

“My palazzo,” Cesar announced proudly, his powerful profile turned to the cabin window. “Ten thousand tons of finest white Italian marble, one thousand metres of gold leaf and half a ton of crushed diamonds.” He turned away from the window to fix her again with his powerfully hypnotic gaze. “And that’s just the runway”.

Chastity averted her eyes, unable to stare into those black eyes a moment longer, only to be confronted with an enormously powerful and betraying bulge in Cesar’s trousers. Thankfully, Cesar didn’t seem to notice the direction of her gaze.

“Fasten your seatbelt, cara,” he said. “It’s going to be a bumpy landing.”

***

Credits! Cover design - Bettie Sharpe, Story/Executive Producer - Tumperkin.

And guess who’s up tomorrow? Bettie Sharpe!

This entry was posted on Friday, December 19th, 2008 at 5:35 am and is filed under The Serial. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.