They stood and waved goodbye to Ivan as he sped recklessly back down the winding road from Arthur's mansion.

"How on earth did you accomplish that?" He said, leading her back inside, an arm possessively about her waist.

"Just like all you men." Gertrude said, coyly. "Ivan thinks his little peccadillo is safe and secure. My suggestion was barely out before the fireworks started in his eyes."

"Perhaps I should be worrying then."

"Not about Ivan, I can promise you that." She allowed him to guide her into the sitting room where they settled among the feathery cushions of a massive sofa.

"To be honest, old 'Bully' was my last concern."

"Now don't be mean to Ivan." She scolded, snuggling against him.

"You're right. Any man that can hold onto a desk at the utilities commission deserves some respect."

"Mmhmmm." She agreed, fingering the button on the front of his shirt. "Speaking of desks... and holding on... do you still have that big, leather topped one from our old office?"

His smile spread to a wide grin and he stood up, taking her hand. "As a matter of fact..."

*****

"I can't believe how well it worked," He boasted, taking credit for the arrangement that put them alone in Carmela's house.

"Are you certain, Ivan, that she doesn't suspect? Gertrude is very astute you know."

"Do I look like a careless man, my sweet? In my job I delude people on a regular basis - it's necessary." He added, not wanting to appear crass and conniving. "Gertrude doesn't suspect a thing, trust me."

"In that case," Carmela commanded, "we shouldn't waste this golden opportunity. Come." Ivan hurried obediently after her, down the hall and into the master bedroom, standing at loose attention as Carmela dragged a large blanket box from beneath the bed.

"Do you want me to—"

"Just get those clothes off." She said, almost harshly, removing the contents of the box and laying them out on the bed.

With nervous excitement he began undressing, placing his things carefully over the back of a large side chair. Retaining his shorts and socks, Ivan turned, groaning deep in his throat. Carmela stood by the bed, legs apart, the criss-crossing leather straps, just wide enough to cover her breasts, dove between her legs and encircled her buttocks, clipping to waistband at the back. Black mesh stockings sprouted from patent leather spiked heels, pulled taut by the ribboned garters fastened to the leather waistband. She wore leather, long-sleeved gloves and a cat-whiskered face mask, leaving only the sneering scarlet lips exposed. Ivan fell to his knees in front of her, blubbering his ecstasy, waiting for the first crack of the velvet whip.

"Bully, my temptress. Bully"

THE PLAY

The first and second acts finished, on time, and with a favourable response from the sold out house. The final act would be the test of all the practice and hard work. Eight of the characters had to perform double roles with corresponding costume and makeup changes; this was going to require everyone's full concentration.

"Five minutes to curtain." Henry shouted in the door of the costume room, ducking back before Milo could catch his eye.

"Okay people, remember this is the play within the play. Keep your characters straight. Victoria and I will be right there to help if anything comes up. It's the first dress rehearsal, and you've invited a small audience, just as we did earlier this week. Daryl, when Ross sounds the gunshot, you must fall down. Preston Bench - you William." He pointed to William Croft who was twirling the gun like a cowboy. "Has killed you. Right?"

"Yeah, yeah. He kills me, alright."

"I was the one who killed him in rehearsal." Donald complained.

"We went over that change at the meeting, Donald. For heaven's sake, keep your gun holstered.

"Amanda, you and Private Courts remember your new marks. We want to keep his swollen cheek away from the audience."

"Two minutes." Henry dashed past the door again.

"Okay, let's go and do some acting, folks." Nigel thumped each one as they passed through the door, stumbling back in pain as Allen, limping by, cracked his shin with the saber.

"Break a leg Nigel." Ellen and Denise chorused, laughing and falling against one another.

"He looks like an old man out there, for Christ's sake." Daryl scoffed, watching Allen as Sergeant Bender, struggling to stand upright at attention.

"Ssssh, it'll be fine." Nigel twisted the edge of the curtain in his hand, silently coaxing Allen through the scene.

"There's a Miss Betty Wantsmore outside to see you sir."

"The young woman who's been seeing that Private Courts?" Milo adopted a stern, thoughtful expression, steering it away from Allen and toward the audience.

"I believe so, SIR." He snapped, loud enough to break Milo's unscripted indulgence.

"Uh- uh, well, send her in Sergeant." He rose from his desk and strutted around to stage front.

"Yessir." Allen executed a saluted and tried to spin around, his hand automatically flying to the pain in his groin. "Arrrgh!"

"Sergeant?"

"Aaaawwwh, right away sir." He limped off stage, making for the nearest seat, as Amanda pranced past on cue.

"Allen, whatever is the matter," Tiffany squatted down next to him, baffled by his behaviour.

"You and those damned binoculars, that's what's the matter. I think you ruptured me."

"Oh don't be silly. It's probably from overuse." She winked and gave him a nudge.

"You okay, Allen?" Nigel bent over to ask.

"He's fine, Nigel. Allen's just a big baby." Tiffany put her hand on his leg to push herself back up.

"BA-by! Let someone give you a whack in—"

"We don't need any details Allen." She snapped, digging her nails into his leg and smiling at Nigel." He'll be fine, I'm here for any kneading he needs."

"Yes-s-s, right. Just rest there Allen, you're not on again for while anyway." Nigel crept back to the wings, chewing on his upper lip.

"But Majuh, suh, I love Private Courts." Amanda gathered her hooped skirt and pursued Milo around his desk.

"Be that as it may, Miss Wantsmore." Milo addressed the audience again, ignoring his co-actor. "Private Courts will have to stand before a military tribunal for his dastardly crimes."

"Oh Majuh, he didn't mean it. It wasn't his fault!" Amanda moved in front of him, bumping him with the wire frame of the hoop.

"I smell trouble." Grace grinned, leaning over Nigel's shoulder.

"Miss Wantsmore- Miss Wantsmo—" Milo began, pushing the hoop down with one hand, sending it springing up behind her like a peacock's display, exposing the red silk of her panties.

"Oh no-o-o..." Nigel bent his head in defeat, jerking from the rain of blows on his back as Grace fell into a laughing fit, covering her mouth with her other hand.

Hastily, Milo pushed the dress back down, her own quick reaction preventing the front from flying up in front of the audience.

"Miss Wa—"

"Major Stiff!"

Several men in the audience whooped with laughter at her exclamation.

"We're doomed." Nigel sagged down to a squatting position.

"If you won't release him, I demand at least a few precious moments with my- my lover." Amanda surprised everyone backstage with her trooper's resolve to carry on.

"Uhm, I- Uhm..."

"Very well." Amanda hissed, behind her hand.

"Yes- yes ah, very well, Miss Wantsmore." He gathered himself and soldiered on, removing himself from the vicinity of her dress. "You may have a brief visit with the Private here in my office."

"In private."

"Yes. Privately, in private... with the Private..."

"Thank you, suh." She rolled her eyes and swept across the stage to the window.

"I'll- I'll fetch him immediately." Milo winced through the footlights and staggered stiff-legged from the stage.

Buoyed by Amanda's determined effort to save the scene, Nigel quickly roused Allen for his cue to take Ramon on stage.

"Can't he take himself?" Allen complained.

"No he can't, Sergeant Bender. Now take his arm and get him out there."

"Stat, " Grace giggled.

"Here he is ma'am," Allen snarled his line, leading Ramon onstage, and backing out quickly.

"Betty!" Ramon called, canting his face away from the audience.

"Courty!"

They crossed the stage to one another, embracing - and freezing - as the hoop skirt flew up once more, this time giving the audience a profile view of Amanda's underwear. Dismissing the ribald cheers from the same group of men, she shuffled their bodies sideways so that Ramon's back was to the crowd, leaving the audience with a view of a man with his hands in front of him, facing a huge circle of flowered material.

"I've never seen an actor so determined to keep the show going." Victoria said with sincere admiration. "That girl has grit."

The kiss between the two performers, now hidden from their view, drew uncomfortable rumblings from the audience as Private Courts knees bent, and the flowery hoop began vibrating.

"I hate grit." Milo fumed, watching the performance. "Throw some water on them for god's sake."