Battersea Life Episode 7 - Slap and Tickle


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Jun 24, 2008
The discovery that the Aurora Lights bedding guest Tara McAdam and her upstanding brother Gordon were one and the same person had been successfully hushed up by The Channel. Tara was, in truth, looking for a way out. The strain had begun to get to her and all she wanted to do was complete her transformation in private, without the critical eyes of the shopping telly world upon her. She had been keeping an eye on that internet forum lately and had noticed several comments about her appearance starting to emerge. They weren't complimentary, and one of the bitches had actually said she “looked like a bloke” but then again the weirdos who spent their spare time posting comments about shopping channels were hardly likely to be balanced were they?. It was time to go. She had “introduced” Gordon to staff and colleagues at a special leaving party as she felt it was the least she could do after all the deceit. Many of these people were her friends after all. Most of them took it well, the women being the most supportive and even praising Tara/Gordon for her amazing skills in make up, hair and fashion. “Aaahm tellin' ye Tara, errr ahh mean Gordon, you make a fabulous lookin' birrrd!” said Dawn Hanson, which seemed a little incongruous given that Tara was attending the party as Gordon and was dressed in a tweed suit and loafers. Most of the men were polite but less enthusiastic. Frank Shanklin made a point of shaking Gordon's hand too hard and dropping his voice as he wished him the best for the future. Brook Charles was the only male staff member who appeared strangely fascinated by the Tara/Gordon affair, asking detailed questions about how Gordon felt inside, at what age he realised he was trapped in the wrong body, and how much the operation was going to cost...
And then Tara/Gordon were gone from The Channel. And soon Gordon was gone for ever. Tara was last heard to be running a guest house in the red light area of Amsterdam. The quality and origins of the bedlinen are, as yet, unknown – we can only hope they're washable at 90 degrees.

After this The Channel started to change its policy on guests. Celebrities presented their own set of challenges and Diva tantrums occurred daily but one could be reasonably sure that they weren't going to change sex half way through a show. And that’s how Leila’s Dynamite came to be on screen. Leila was a Scottish chanteuse famous for her first ever single “Yell!” which she recorded as a 14 year old living on Glasgow’s deprived Gorbals estate in the 60's. With her powerful voice she had been dubbed “Little Miss Dynamite” and had enjoyed child star status until her late teens. Her star began to fade in the late seventies and since then she had had ricocheted from one career to another, occasionally re-emerging with a minor hit, a duets album, making a cameo acting appearance on a TV show, or presenting golden oldies programmes on the radio. She was one of those names that everyone knew, but no-one really knew why.

In a last ditch attempt to secure a decent pension Leila had spent thousands of borrowed money on a trip to LA where she had undergone major plastic surgery accompanied by a fitness regime that would have shamed Jane Fonda. By any standards she was looking incredible. Her master plan was to peddle Dynamite as the new elixir of youth, citing it as her own discovery and the sole reason for her amazing appearance. Shopping telly was the perfect place to begin her rise to skincare superstardom. She had pitched her idea to The Channel in a costly production in their boardroom which had begun with the opening bars to her biggest hit screeching out of a hired music system. On a video screen images of Leila across the decades flashed before The Channel’s management team. Sixties Leila in a black and white Mary Quant mini dress with panda eyes and hair in bunches under a PVC cap, Seventies Leila in velvet loon pants and a floppy hat with her head resting on David Bowie's shoulder, 80’s Leila belting out a number one hit with boy band Been There, Done That!…. As the images flashed and the music blared the unforgettable first line of her most famous song could be heard almost through the entire building...
“Yeeeeee-eeeeee-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelllllllll!” and Leila jumped out from behind a screen and sung the rest of the song live, note perfect with a fully choreographed dance routine, in front of the astounded senior executives. After seeing samples from the range and hearing her planned sales pitch they signed her on the spot. They were blown away by Dynamite.

It had taken a very short time to get the product to air. The actual creams, lotions, serums and balms were all “off the peg” generic products which could be purchased from any number of manufacturers in Asia. The packaging was the key, This is what would make the product sell. And so Dynamite came in chunky tubular containers, with what resembled a wick trailing from one end and the word “DYNAMITE” faux-roughly stamped along the side. Perusing the products on the prep trolley, Dawn Hanson had been heard to remark dryly that Dynamite looked like one of her super-sized tampons.

However the brand was a hit and the number of shows and Amazing Special Value offers started to increase. The latest ASV launch was to be delivered by The Channel's own make-up mega star Abigail Jeung. Abigail and Leila were bound to be a winning combination. Jeung was a selling machine with few scruples than Eva Braun and with Leila's dynamite personality and flawless face an early sell out was expected.
Jeung was late for the ASV launch but arrived in high spirits, almost a little too high. “Cutting it fine aren't we dear?” the director called wearily from the gallery as she was being mic'd up. Jeung's mood instantly changed, she sneered up at the gallery “oh shut up you old queen, I was in the loo... women's things... REAL women I mean” she said pointedly knowing that this would instantly silence the gallery. It worked. Jeung knew exactly who wielded the power and how valuable she was to The Channel, some people had begun to say she become too big for her Zarkon boots, others were saying her mood swings and erratic behaviour had more sinister origins. The floor manager who was setting up her sound was just about to turn away when she noticed some light powder on Jeung's upper lip. She discreetly touched her own nose as a signal to Jeung who immediately swiped her hand across her face “****** Essential Minerals never rubs in properly” she hissed. Just then Leila arrived on set and Jeung immediately switched to her animated, brash TV persona.
“Leila, Leila! We're over here” she waved extravagantly at Leila who smiled and made her way over. They faux-hugged and air-kissed and began to discuss the Dynamite kit that made up that evenings ASV.

Thirty minutes later and the presentation was well under way. Jeung was almost bouncing off the walls, not missing a trick or an opportunity to sell sell and up sell Leila's products. The pair were sat on high stools at a small circular table where the products were being displayed. Between them was a model whose job was to smear herself with the various creams and potions whilst “giving face” to the camera. Leila matched Jeung's high octane performance, secretly watching a hidden monitor which showed the number of kits sold and number of calls being taken in the Channel's award winning call centre. Every sale meant money in her handbag, and she piled on the anecdotes, dropped names and used every ounce of her limited acting ability to recount how the brand had come about. Her Glaswegian accent was almost undetectable, she had adopted a transatlantic drawl designed to suggest success in the U.S. She had almost obliterated her lowly origins, only when she became annoyed did the true Leila show herself....
“Now this cream is amazing on the fine lines around the eyes” said Leila “and I'm going to apply some now so you can see my special and unique pat/smooth/pat technique. Come on boys, get in close with the camera! I'm not afraid of a close up – I use Dynamite!”
As Leila demonstrated, a large dress ring on her forefinger came into view. Too big and flashy to be real diamonds it was nevertheless very eye catching.
“Now that's got to be Diamonella” chirped Jeung, always on the hunt for an extra sale “its absolutely amazing is it from the Toga Diamonella range?”
Leila looked puzzled “What's Diamonella Abi? I get all of my jewellery from LA”
“You don't know what Diamonella is??” screeched Jeung in mock horror “You cant say that here!” and then almost involuntarily she raised her hand and smacked Leila across the face.

The silence hung for a millisecond that seemed like hours. Leila's hand was up to her cheek and a look of abject horror was on her face. “You just SLAPPED me....” she said but Jeung had already started joking to the camera “she cant say things like that here can she viewers, we ALL know how amazing Diamonella is... we'll have to educate Leila for her next visit”. She didn't even see Leila form a fist with her tiny hand – the one with the enormous cut glass ring on the forefinger. She didn't see Leila pull back her arm. And she didn't see Leila's fist flying towards her mouth. But she certainly felt it.

Clarisse Dutton was alone in the prep room perusing a trolley laden with Yippee Candles in readiness for her next show. She was humming Nellie The Elephant quietly to herself and carefully removing lids from each of the candles to take a deep sniff. Occasionally she simpered or giggled, or remarked out loud “ooh Cotton Fluff Candy that's gorgeous I ADORE it!” She had no idea that a dark figure had entered the room and was stood just inches behind her. Until a voice that seemed to have been tumbled in gravel and have come from the depths of the earth whispered in her ear “Clarisse Dutton... I can smell your ****”

Clarisse spun around to face the enormous bulk of Kristofer Massimo – accessory designer and furrier to the super-rich. As she turned, Massimo shoved his knee between her legs and expertly pushed her feet apart with his own. She cringed back against the prep table as Yippee Candles rolled and smashed on the floor releasing their pungent aromas. As his pelvis pushed into hers his mouth was millimetres from her lips and his breath stank of garlic and cigars. With horror she realised that he was aroused.
“Get away from me you awful man I've told you I'm not interested... I'll NEVER touch you” she squeaked.
“oh Clarisse darling you know you will... we did it before and we'll do it again. I have no doubt of that”
“I'll tell Will, if he knew you were doing this he'd KILL you you nasty nasty man”
“But your husband's never going to find out is he Clarisse?” growled Massimo in a voice so dark and full of menace that Clarisse felt her bowels shift. “You cant tell him because you know I'd have to let him in on our secret... all those years ago when you were a dancer in Paris and I was putting those amazing costumes on your back? You think you'd have been promoted to the front row of the chorus without me you stupid bitch? You liked me then Clarisse, and you'll like me again” He ran the back of his fingers down Clarisse's body intimately.. she almost retched and tried to shrink further away but there was nowhere to go. She felt his hand reach her stomach and continue downwards
“GET OFF ME YOU FAT HORRIBLE PIG!!!! OR I'M CALLING SECURITY” she shouted so loud she surprised herself. Massimo jumped backwards in shock, he had never heard Clarisse raise her voice before.
“So the kitten has claws” he rasped “Daddy likes that, it turns Daddy on.... I'm going to eat you up Clarisse, I'm going to eat every inch of you and then wash you down with a bottle of chianti and some fava beans Fffffffffffffffffff!...” he made a bizarre noise with his teeth and lips as he drew in his breath. Clarisse vaguely felt she'd seen that somewhere before but couldn't quite remember where. “I'll see you at Spring Fashion Night Kitten, I have a room in the hotel. Wear those special stockings for me... and remember if Kitten doesn't play, our secret wont be a secret any more” Massimo turned and wobbled away in the direction of the studio as Clarisse collapsed to the floor, the fake stench of Yippee “Peanut Butter and Jam on Cream Crackers” sticking in her craw.

Spring Fashion Night was taking place at the Plaza hotel which the Channel had hired at considerable expense to showcase their new looks for the coming season. The fact that the real fashion world had showcased their Spring collections around 6 months previously was of no interest to the Channel. This wasn't a fashion show, it was a sales event. Various designers had been invited to introduce their collections and at even further expense had been accommodated at the Plaza In order to recoup some of the outlay the channel had accepted sponsorship from one of their newer brands “Desirable Incontinence Underwear”. The brand was tapping into the new “embarrassing conditions” sector of the market which The Channel was also keen exploit... or “help” as they preferred to put it. This was the ideal opportunity. Desirable's unique selling point was to place a soft microfibre layer called “Desirable” inside all of their underwear. It looked and felt like silk but worked in the same way as the lining of a baby's nappy. One-way moisture flow. Their strap line was “Under my incontinence knickers, I like to feel Desirable”.
The host of the evening was appalled that the Channel had sunk to such depths for the sake of a few quid in sponsorship. She'd agreed to host the event before the Desirable deal had been struck and couldn't get out of it now. The only saving grace was the fact that she was able to showcase her fabulous new figure to a massive audience and lots of designers all at once. The host was, of course, the Queen of shopping telly Miss Roberta Jones .

The event went to plan, it was broadcast live on the Channel and viewers bought in their droves. Kristofer Massimo's accessory line of high end handbags and leather goods were particularly popular. His screen persona was of the avuncular American-italian designer, rotund and silver haired in his designer blazer and crocodile shoes. If only the world knew about the depravity to which he regularly sank in his “other” life. Tonight he seemed even more jovial than ever when being interviewed by Roberta. She commented that he was in a great mood and he laughingly replied that he just KNEW the night was going to get better and better.

Clarisse dressed in the dark, all except for the stockings which were by now filthy and fit only for the incinerator.
“Kitten's leaving Daddy? Come back to bed baby” said Masimmo sleepily.
“Sowwy Daddy Kitten got to go” whispered Clarisse in her best baby voice.
“Kitten will come and pway wiv Daddy again. Kitten wuvs Daddy and is sending a special tweat to make up for going. Kissy kissy”.

Twenty minutes later a quiet knock led Massimo to the door of his hotel room. Outside he found the treat that Clarisse had arranged for him. Room Service had delivered an enormous basket of fried chicken, what seemed like a bucket of French fries and a large bowl if his very VERY favourite garlic mayonnaise. He took the feast to bed and ate every crumb whilst gazing at the porn channel on TV. Finally after dipping the last few fries in the remaining mayonnaise he remarked that it was probably the most garlicky mayo he'd ever tasted. Good girl Clarisse, she certainly does know what Daddy likes. And then he slept.

As Clarisse Dutton sped home in the back of the taxi she felt strangely at peace. She knew it would work, maybe not tonight but within the next few days. And she wasn't afraid either, because she was absolutely certain that she no-one could possibly ever know. It would all be put down to the inefficiency of the hotel. The food safety people would be brought in, kitchens closed down. People may even lose jobs – now that would be unfortunate but necessary, sadly. They'd never know how Clarisse had been making garlic mayonnaise all week. Well, just one batch actually. She'd carefully whipped it up from scratch. Eggs and oil and a pinch of mustard. She'd added the garlic and popped it in the airing cupboard. The airing cupboard? Ha ha honestly she was soooo scatterbrained sometimes. She'd recovered it from the airing cupboard the next morning and put it in the fridge. That's better! The next evening she added a bit more garlic, gave it a good old mix and popped it back in the airing cupboard. And then fridge, and the airing cupboard and the fridge again. Each time she added a teeny bit more garlic. She'd done that for the past seven days and nights. By the time she placed the bowl on Massimo's room service tray the mayonnaise was almost glowing. Clarisse giggled.

Back in the hotel's main function room the crew were packing up the equipment and Roberta Jones was in deep conversation with The Channel's Presenter Manager Jet Lingstrom.
“Roberta I think this would send your career into the stratosphere, its the next logical step. Your a glamorous woman in her prime. Incontinence could happen to you, you can show the viewers that its nothing to be ashamed of and you can show them how good they can look – almost as good as you Roberta”
“But Jet, I cant do that its just TOO intimate. To model Desirable? a woman of my age... I don't think it's right. They'd see EVERYthing!”
“You've done pilates in a leotard Roberta, they've already seen everything”
“No I'm sorry Jet its out of the question. Why cant one of those old bag models we keep on the books do it?”
“Roberta it has to be you don't you see? Your unique relationship with our female audience can make this a massive success. Not just here but in America too.”
“Yes Roberta, the deal would include promoting the product in the U.S. Imagine being the face of Desirable in every state of America. I was thinking of a billboard with your amazing face and a single line “I am Desirable...”
Roberta put her finger in her mouth and looked at Jet under her lashes....
“How much?”
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I'm desperate for the next instalment! Now that's what I call Saturday night entertainment! Don't makes us wait too long Burlz!!!
I think their will be a run on Desirables at Parco Molo House this evening !!!! :clapping:
next chapter please ! you can't leave it there !!!
saying thank you in anticipation xxxxxxx
Brilliant as always Burlz!! :clapping: Took a while coming, but so satisfying when it did...:happy:
Hurrah, 'Battersea Life' is back...been missing it badly, thanks Burly Bear. You've made a very boring evening special.
You can't leave me in suspenders, what happens to Massimo ???? Seriously, brilliant, can't wait for the next one. x
Brilliant! Thank you for cheering up a tedious morning. I wish I had gone to the loo before I started reading though...........what's the item number for "desirables"??

If you're wanting a photographic likeness for Gordon/Tara, I've always felt he/she is a slightly more feminine version of Jim Rosenthal. More please!!

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