Characters:
Maura Garner (Once Maura O'Neill) is the newly married wife of the Army Scout,
Mat Garner. She co-runs the Maddock Millinery (dress store) with Phoebe.
Bertha O'Neill is Maura's stepmother. Bertha recently married Thaddeus (Tab)
O'Neill, who is a somewhat heavy bodied and hard drinking Irishman, miner.
Miss Gem Trotters is one of the top-money prostitutes at the Dusty Lady, a local
saloon.
Maggie Benington is a local young woman who is about to marry the much older
Sheriff Kyle.
Mentioned:
Miguel Mendez is a Mexican national who arrived in town amid scandal and has
since continued to cause extreme strife through his behaviors.
Maddock Millinery
Two bay windows display elegant hats and fashionable clothing. Bolts of
many-colored cloth, supplies of ribbon, and buttons are neatly arranged on tall
shelves. A glass display case shows off hat pins, combs, and cravats. A large
screen, decorated with fabulous peacocks, stands in the far corner. Several
tailor's dummies, draped with works-in-progress, are placed near the screen. A
cherry wood desk, stacked with catalogues and books, sits in front of a door to
the backroom. Behind the desk is a large, English-style chair with a tapestry
back in a marvelous floral pattern. A brass and glass inkwell and several quill
pens rest near the front of the desk. A small hurricane lamp sits to one corner.
Two very comfortable-looking parlor chairs covered with a white crewel sit in
front of the desk. A small fireplace with a marble mantle and a crackling fire
is located on the wall by the desk. A small round stove sits nearby.
Contents: Maura
Bertha flutters in. "Hello, dearie."
Maura smiles "Bertha! How pleased I am to see you. How are you feeling?"
Maura rises from the window seat where she was sewing, setting the fabric to one
side with a gentle rustle. "Have a set. Phoebe has some tea on the boil."
Bertha gives a brief touch to her forehead. "Thank you. I don't mind if I do."
Maura moves to the teapot and fills two china cups. "Do you take anything in
your tea?"
Bertha nods. "Of course. I take the spoon out of it after adding some milk and
sugar."
Maura nods, catching sugar and milk. Adding these to Bertha's tea she hands the
cup to her, rattling gently on its saucer. The spoon is still in the cup so that
Bertha might remove it herself. Sitting down in a chair Maura asks "Did you know
we have a cow? Her name is Mrs. Cow and I've learned to milk her."
Bertha smiles, nervously stirring the spoon in her cup. It clatters away a mile
a minute. "That's very nice. Mrs. Cow? I don't know if I'd be comfortable
calling her husband 'Mr. Cow', though. Do you think he'd like that?" Bertha's
thought straight from her brain to her tongue. "It's the duty of a good wife to
take the name of her husband though." She has wifely duties on the brain.
Maura shrugs, having never thought of it. "She doesn't really have a husband.
Not a regular one, anyway. You know how that is. She gets...freshened each
year." Maura stirs her tea at a mile a minute as well. Such a thing to discuss.
Which brings to mind.... She glances at Bertha from the corner of her eyes,
wondering if Bertha can fulfill the role of mother at a time like this. She's
so...different...from Maura's own mother.
Bertha's smile falters as she replies, "No husband? I don't know that even a cow
should have calves without a proper wedding." She quickly adds a few other
sentences, without necessarily supplying the thoughts to connect them. One about
"Well, you can't expect bulls to be faithful I suppose." Then she adds, "I'm
expecting myself, you know."
Maura smiles at Bertha, letting her words flow over her head, not really
listening. That tends to happen with Bertha. She is preoccupied with her own
thoughts and concerns, wondering how to broach..."Expecting?" she asks in almost
a whisper. One doesn't expect one's father to sire children after one is grown.
"You mean..a baby?"
Bertha smiles brittlely. "Yes. You'll be a sister soon. You have to expect that
with such a virulent man as your father."
Maura's hand goes to her own abdomen, brushing over the fabric of her gown. A
look at Bertha, tinged with surprise, excitement and a little envy. "I'm...very
happy for you." She nods. She really means it to. Her mind is awhirl with the
implications. She'll be a sister? "When is the baby due?"
Bertha's head can contain only limited thoughts, but if there is one thing
Bertha knows, it is babies, this being her fifth pregnancy. "We should see his
arrival in June. Won't that be nice?"
Maura nods. If Bertha is pregnant then Bertha and her father...do it. So, Bertha
would know how to make a success at it, wouldn't she? Maura gets up her courage
and quails and doesn't say a word. She looks at Bertha rather helplessly.
Suddenly Bertha's words penetrate her brain and she nods. "Lovely. So happy for
you." Suddenly she blurts out "Bertha! I think there are things I need to know
and I don't! I feel so silly asking." That was very clear, wasn't it?
Bertha is used to feeling that the subject has changed and doesn't think Maura's
question would have to be related to the current subject. "Indeed? I can't
imagine what it could be."
Maura makes a face and says hesitantly "I was in the back room getting a bolt of
fabric and I overheard two of the...ladies... from the Dusty Lady discussing.
That's it, discussing." She nods to herself "And I realized I don't know much or
how to do more or just what would please..er..and Mat only says there isn't more
but I think there is. Is there?"
Bertha's imagination is as non-existent as Tab's morals. "It's best to believe
your husband about these sorts of things. I know that your father knows a
prodigious amount of things. Why he's taught me so much. I never realized there
was so much to know. I believe it was my dear Sweet William that said, "There's
more than one way to get to the top of a tree than to sit on an acorn."
Maura asks "But what about what those ladies where saying? It didn't sound at
all like what Mat said. And don't they, well...make a living at it?"
Bertha gives Maura a sharp glance. "What those women do for a living isn't the
same as what a wife should be doing." Not that Bertha has a clear idea what they
do normally, but right now she's thinking that they relieve a wife of her duty
when said wife can't ... entertain her husband. Bertha's eyes reveal a cunning
nobody in town would have ever seen before. "Are you expecting, too?"
Maura shakes her head "I don't think so. How will I know? Mat says if I'm not it
won't be for lack of trying." She looks a bit worried "What if I can't?"
Bertha waves that thought away. "Oh La!" Bertha isn't one to worry about such
matters. "It's in the hands of someone else." Husband's hands, probably. "You
know because your curse is relieved for a while." And good riddance. Bertha is
one of those baby producers that suffer few ill consequences and make other
mothers jealous and isn't capable of explaining more. She could never explain
things well.
Maura nods and stirs a bit restlessly. "So far I've been very regular." Bertha
is being so matter of fact. Maybe Maura is making a bigger deal of this than she
should be. Maybe all those yearnings she has to be wild and unrestrained and do
something more than lay there are just more examples of her sin of wanting too
much. An inward sigh. Probably something to confess to Father Isen. "And what
those women said...?"
Bertha has great experience in just laying there, but none in wild yearning. "I
don't know dear. What did those women say?"
Maura whispers "That men like it when a woman takes charge. But, take charge of
what?"
Bertha gasps with her hand to her throat. "I've no idea, but could you imagine
what Dear Thaddeus would say if I tried to take charge of something?"
Maura frowns "I don't think Mat would mind, but I can hardly take charge of
something I have no training in, can I? It's not like sewing or cooking. I wish
my mother were alive! I'm sure she'd tell me."
Bertha smiles, adding 2 plus 2 and getting 14. "And your mother was a forceful
woman that took charge of you and Thaddeus? That must be nice. I don't think
that's how I could do things. I let my husband teach me things I need to know."
Which explains Bertha's cooking.
Maura nods, getting a bit frustrated. "That's what I'm telling you! He says
there is nothing more to know!"
Bertha holds her hands out. "But my sweet, that's an example where you must
trust your husband. If he says that's all, who are we to disagree?"
Maura looks at Bertha, not quite believing her ears. "Don't you ever disagree
with father?" She disagreed with him most of the time. Hence, the constant
friction between them.
Bertha thinks about it for a long time. "There was the time he called a color as
red when it was quite clearly rose." Doesn't that count as a disagreement?
Maura nods "See? And if Mat says there isn't more but those women seemed to hint
there was, mightn't there be?"
Bertha nods, not following logic, which she never does anyway, but since Maura
seems to expect it. "Then you'll have to ask them. I've been meaning to ask
another woman about cooking. Do you think these dusty women could answer our
questions?"
Thus Maura leads Bertha down the path of extramarital questioning. Bertha feels
guilty already.
Maura sets down her teacup and hugs herself with her arms, in an almost
protective gesture. "I couldn't ask them! I'd be a laughing stock!"
Bertha has no such inhibition. "Do you want me to ask, then?"
Maura nods slowly. "Would you? You wouldn't mention any names or anything..."
Bertha nods. "I should say not. There are words for things if you don't want to
say their name."
Maura gets that quizzical look on her face that seems to hover there when in
conversation with Bertha. That didn't make one iota of sense to her. She latches
on to "I should say not" and nods. She feels a great sense of relief to have
that off her mind "Thanks"
Miss Gem saunters over from the road. Miss Gem has arrived.
Maura rises from where she sips tea with Bertha "May I help you?"
Bertha continues her thought. "Although I don't know that those dusty women know
that much more about cooking than Thaddeus...Oh, Hello."
Miss Gem comes in with a light smile. "Please," she says pleasantly. Alto voice,
with a soft burr to it that runs it a little deeper than many women's. "I need
to make several purchases." Gem turns a smile on Bertha. "Hello. I don't believe
we've met?"
Maura finds herself feeling a bit dowdy compared to the woman who has just
entered. She pats her hair a bit self-consciously.
Bertha puts her teacup down, missing the saucer as her eyes are busy looking at
the new arrival. She is uncharacteristically speechless while watching the
customer with a puzzled expression.
[Miss Gem]
Expensive, this lady is, and she looks it. The eyes are a deep blue, the
color a man could drown in, and capable of a devastating glance through thick,
dark lashes, and the hair is long, rich brown in color, and has a wave to it
that is just short of curls. Full lips, often smiling, the sort that promise,
and deliver, much; Gem Trotters is nobody's fool, and knows like nobody else how
to work a crowd -- though she prefers it one on one. Her dress is of high
quality material, perhaps silk, not a practical fabric for bitter Montana days
and worse nights, but the, Gem is never at a loss for someone to warm her bed.
Teal in color, it sets off her eyes exactly, and the lowcut collar shows off
slim, well-formed shoulders. Even clevage isn't -too- noticable, though it's
evident; no sense in giving out the wares for free, boys. Corset shapes her form
into an hourglass, and visible under the hem of the dress are ankle-high boots.
Over her clothes she wears a long wool coat, made for the winters, and a neat
hat is on her head.
Maura moves to a display case "We are having a special on fur muffs. Might I
interest you in one?"
[Bertha]
She is a short woman, helping to keep the average of the times lower that
next century. She's the generously endowed with everything but lots of brains."
Short and sweet" is how her dear, lately sainted husband "Sweet William" used to
call her, as she'll probably tell you given half a minute. Her outfit is
unrelieved black, rather like a pigeon covered in soot. She bustles about,
radiating happiness, a-glow in the knowledge that her fine, strong man will
solve all her problems.
Miss Gem smiles suddenly. "A muff," she laughs, and comes over to see. "That
might be very nice. I've never owned one. But what I intended," and she lifts a
finger to tap a cheekbone, "were some dresses, and perhaps a new hat."
Maura nods "We have a wide selection of fabric..." Her voice trails and realizes
she's neglected to introduce herself "I'm Maura Garner and this is my
step-mother, Bertha O'Neill. I don't believe I've had the pleasure of making
your acquaintance before."
Miss Gem offers a hand, with another smile. "Gem. Gem Trotters." I expect you've
heard of me.
Bertha has a surge of jealousy. Not that she appreciates having to perform
wifely duties with the regularity and frequency O'Neill demands, but she
suddenly knows that she /has/ heard of Miss Gem Trotters. Sniff.
Maura starts, visibly jolted. Her eyes dart to Bertha and grow wide, wide. Speak
of the devil. She gives a shiver up her spine. This is too strange. She takes
Miss Trotters hand in a gentle grip before releasing it. Her eyes telegraph to
Bertha 'This is your chance!" Maybe she should slip off into the storeroom.
A bit of fire lights in Gem's eyes. She will .not. allow herself to be treated
badly because she's a whore, and by the gods, she's had this fight before. Be
warned, ladies. The smile stays on her face, slightly more fixed than it was a
moment ago.
Maura clears her throat. She hopes Bertha is able to get the information without
any embarrassment. "Let me just run to the storeroom and fetch some fabric
samples."
Bertha looks helplessly at Maura, reaching to grab her and whisper hoarsely,
"What was your question again?"
Maura glances over her shoulder at Gem and hisses to Bertha 'You remember!" A
red flush stains her cheeks.
Miss Gem nods, and then her expression turns curious as she looks between the
two women. "Is something wrong?"
Maura hastens to say "On, no, Miss Trotters. No problem at all. I'll just run
and get that fabric."
Maura whispers to Bertha "Don't you remember our discussion about Mrs. Cow?"
Hint hint.
Miss Gem nods uncertainly. She has the distinct feeling that she's missing
something, here, and would like to figure it out. This is not a usual 'whore
snub'.
Maura backs away toward the storeroom, leaving things to Bertha. Oh dear. She
slips behind the curtain.
Bertha's voice reaches her ears as if a stranger is asking. This whole scene
takes on an other worldly quality to poor Bertha. "Yes, but it wasn't about
taking charge of Mrs. Cow, was it?"
Miss Gem's dark eyebrows rise. Mrs. Cow. Taking care of Mrs. Cow. "Mrs. Cow?"
Bertha stammers, not usually prone to trouble asking question nor making a fool
of herself. "There is this *friend*" Neither of us, of course. "that was hoping
to ask a question."
Maura pulls the curtain aside a tad and sets her eye to the crack, vainly
struggling to hear the conversation.
Amusement. Laughter, even, settles into Gem's very blue eyes. "And what," she
prompts, "does this friend want to know?" Straight-faced. Gem will be kind.
Mostly.
Bertha's eyes watch her hand, fiddling with her reticule. "What she wanted to
know was something she overheard yet her husband" Gulp! "couldn't explain." And
then in a whisper she says to herself, "Oh lordy me."
Miss Gem, blithely, nods. "Do you mind if I take my coat off for a bit?" Gem has
the idea this might take a while. "What did she overhear?"
Maura moves her lips, silently trying to prompt Bertha through sheer strength of
will. She is on her toes, leaning forward, straining to hear.
Bertha grabs the chance to delay. "Of course. Please. Make yourself more
comfortable." It *has* gotten very hot in here, hasn't it?
Miss Gem slips the coat off, finding some convenient place to hang it up, and
puts the hat there as well, then comes back to the conversation. "Now, she
overheard what?"
Bertha uses up her excuses and says, "I, .. I mean She, wanted to know if it's
true that a man likes a woman to take charge. On occasion. Not necessarily all
the time, you understand, but that there might be the slightest chance that it
could be the case. Not that I would myself, you know. It's only a friend that's
asking."
Maura hurries out with two bolts of cloth, one under each arm. She practically
shoves them at Miss Gem, turning her head back over her shoulder to tell Bertha
quietly "Don't forget..ask her what take charge means! What do you do!" She
turns to smile brightly at Miss Gem. "Here are some samples you might like"
Miss Gem purses her lips. "Oh, my." Well, you want a source of information, Gem
is the place to get it. And a lot of other things, as well. She charges more for
women, though. "Well, it has been -my- experience," and we won't go into how
much, "that men do, indeed, like a woman to take charge every once in a while."
She grins at Maura. "Lovely, I'm sure." Just stay and listen, Maura. Gem can see
you peeking out.
Maura sets one of the bolts on the floor to lean against her leg and pretends to
be preoccupied with smoothing the fabric of the other.
Bertha's eyes lighten up. Wouldn't Thaddeus be surprised. Her words spill forth,
"Really? And how can you take charge? I mean when you're just lying there and
his weight is on top..." And we know that O'Neill has plenty of weight... "how
do you take charge? It doesn't seem natural!"
Maura blushes. "I....forgot the blue!" She sets the bolt beside the other on the
floor in front of Miss Gem, her movement causing the leaning bolt to tip and hit
the floor with a soft whoomph. She hurries behind the curtain and presses her
hand to her heart. The image of her father on top of Bertha was too...horrific.
Miss Gem brushes a hand back over her hair, looking idly at the fabrics. "Well,
now. First off, you don't have to just -lie- there." The hand drops to smooth
over her hip. "You can do all sorts of nice wiggles, you know."
Maura's ears perk up. Wiggles. She likes the sound of "nice" wiggles. Why didn't
Mat tell her that? Her back is to the curtain and she stands very still,
listening.
Miss Gem makes a highly suggestive movement with her hips, as demonstration.
"And you sure don't have to wait for -him- to get on top. You can start it, you
know. Your friend can, that is. Men like that."
Bertha's heart plods along. Although she's interested in the subject, the image
isn't as exciting for her. Wiggling is what Tab does, not her. She's trying to
guess what this all means. Wiggling her fingers perhaps? "I see. And where do
you wiggle? I, .. I mean She, might not want to tickle a man too much."
Maura turns and sets her eye to the crack again. If you don't wait for him to
get on top he might never get there. She overbalances and crashes through the
curtain to land in a heap on the floor of the store.
Miss Gem exclaims, "Oh dear," and steps forward all in a rush to help Maura up.
"Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?" Over her shoulder, to Bertha: "Your
hips, luvie. That's what God gave them to you for. Wiggle your hips." You want
another demonstration?
Maura clambers to her feet, finding herself too intrigued to be much
embarrassed. She blurts out "There's more to it than just laying there, isn't
there?"
Bertha shakes her head in disbelief and not connecting Gem's itch that is
causing her hips to wobble and wiggling fingers until Gem explains. She puts her
hands on her hips and response. "No He didn't! Hips are for holding your baby."
Miss Gem gives Maura a wicked grin. "Oh, there's a -lot- more." Back to Bertha:
"You got to get the baby there first, don't you? Trust me on this, luvie.
Wiggling your hips will get you a baby that much faster."
Bertha is still looking argumentative. "I know more than you about babies. I'm
expecting my fifth child and We both know how /that/ happens."
Maura can't help but continue to have the feeling that's she's missing the whole
big picture.
Miss Gem turns to look at Bertha. "You may know more about babies than I do,
Mrs. O'Neill, but I know a damned sight more about men. Did you want me to give
your friend advice or not?"
Maura nods mutely. She wants to hear it. And not the baby part so much as the
take charge part.
Bertha sniffs. "Well, as long as you understand it isn't the baby making bit
that I don't know about." Her hands cross before her.
Miss Gem is having too much fun to stop, really. "The thing is, you see, women
expect men to do all the work, and that's just no good. You want .really. good
sex, you .seduce. a man. He'll crawl for you if you tell him to."
Miss Gem clicks her heels together and sketches a half bow to Bertha. "I
understand completely," she agrees.
Maura blurts out "But how?"
Bertha interprets 'really good sex' to mean 'women' which she knows are supposed
to be the fair sex. And seduce, isn't that boiling a broth down to double
strength?
Miss Gem waves a hand. "Wear something sexy. The point of all these clothes is
to make men want to get under them. Don't wait for him to touch you. Touch him
-first-. Let him know you want him."
Maura furrows her brow. She's not sure what constitutes "sexy". "You mean
something besides cotton bloomers?"
Bertha gives Gem's clothes another, much longer, examination. She knows she's
still missing something. "But he can get under them whenever he wants. All he
has to do is ask, which he does every night." Let Maura chew on that.
Miss Gem nods. "That's right. I mean, think about it." She gestures at the
store. "You've got all sorts of pretty fabric here, right? Make
something...silky. Soft. Something that highlights your curves." She gives Maura
a critical look. "I mean, you've sure got them, after all. And make it -short-.
Thigh length, maybe. Men never get to see legs, and they love them."
Maura blinks "Oh!" She looks down at herself trying to imagine something silky
and thigh length. That's not even really clothes! Where would you wear something
like that? "In the winter?"
Miss Gem lifts a finger, pointing at Bertha. "Ah, but if you want to take
control, you have to beat him to it. Be sexy before he asks. Before he's ready
for it." She gives Maura a Look. "You wear it in the house, Mrs. Garner. In the
bedroom." A tilt of the head. "Or the parlor. That's always fun, too. Just
having sex someplace other than the bedroom."
Bertha wasn't missing this clothes part. She couldn't bring herself to wear
something that Tab doesn't approve. The part she's having trouble understand is
why a woman might be excited about all this sex stuff. "Fun? Is it supposed to
be fun?"
Maura nods and gives up all pretense of looking at fabric. Bertha's earlier
words suddenly penetrate her brain. Every night? She looks at Bertha and
suddenly gets an image of her in something silky and thigh length. She tilts her
head quizzically, blinking rapidly.
Miss Gem puts her hands on her hips, and looks at Bertha, then at Maura. "That
depends on who you ask. Most people think it's not supposed to be fun. Me, I
figure anything that makes you feel *that* good...well, of -course- it's fun!"
Maura nods, sighing slightly "I think it's fun, I just think there must be
more!" She suddenly blushes "I mean, our friend does."
Bertha shakes her head. "Well, knowing that Thaddeus likes it so much is enough
for me to like it, but I wouldn't say that it feels good. And are we supposed to
put the bed in the parlor?"
Miss Gem shakes her head. "No, have sex on the couch, or the floor, or a chair,
or a table, or something." She tilts her head at Maura. Points to a chair.
"Sit." Gem promises not to bite.
Maura moves hesitantly to the chair and sits down, pressing her knees together
and folding her hands tightly in her lap.
Miss Gem walks over behind Maura. "I won't hurt you, don't worry. I'm going to
put my hands on your shoulders, okay?"
Maura nods, resisting the urge to hop up again. "All right." She looks at
Bertha, wondering where this is leading.
Maura glances over at Bertha, unsure just what she's got herself in for. She
nods to Miss Gem and sits tensely in the chair.
Bertha can't believe that doing /that/ on someplace other than a bed would
actually change it into 'fun'.
Miss Gem rests her hands lightly on Maura's shoulders. "Don't jump, okay? I'm
just going to show you a little bit of what .I. might do if I wanted to seduce
my husband." She's quite sure Maura will jump anyway, but leans down, putting
her cheek very near Maura's. "I'd come up to him like this, and slide my hands
down over his shoulders, down his chest, and maybe kiss his neck or bite his
earlobe, for starters."
Bertha watches Miss Gem, unmoved. What does kissing have to do with sex? It
never has before.
Maura nods. That doesn't sound too strange. She's glad Miss Gem doesn't
demonstrate the hand part, though.
Maggie strolls over from the road. Maggie has arrived.
Maura is sitting in a chair with Miss Gem's hands on her shoulders and cheek
near hers. Bertha is looking on.
Miss Gem wouldn't do that. You'd fly through the roof and take Gem's teeth out
with you. She's currently leaning over Maura, from behind her. Maura is --
right.
Maggie drifts in, pushing at her hair. She smiles at the ladies.
Bertha is watching stoically, but not hearing the bell on the door.
The chair is tilted away from the door. Maura is puzzling out how this is
"taking charge"
Miss Gem nods, and stands up. "Start to unbutton his shirt," she suggests.
"Slide your hands in it." Gem is apparently the only one who notices Maggie; she
gives her a smile, and goes on. "Come around to the front of him and kiss him
like you .mean. it."
Maura shakes her head "I don't think the issue is getting him interested."
Maggie raises both eyebrows, curious. She smiles back to Gem, whom she vaguely
remembers from....somewhere, then blinks at Gem's advice to Maura.
Miss Gem chuckles. "By that time, you'll have his attention. Completely. If he
starts to try to take over, tell him no. Say you want to be in charge. .You.
undress .him., nice and slow, or however you want to."
Maura smiles slowly. She nods. Then shakes her head "Bertha says the man doesn't
like the woman to be in charge."
Bertha frowns, uncertain if Dear Sweet Tab would even /let/ her take charge.
Miss Gem taps a finger against her chin. "Hah. I've been with a lot more men
than Bertha has."
Maggie blinks. She'll be turning red, soon, no doubt.
Maura does turn red. Bright red. She was forgetting who she was talking to.
Miss Gem leans against something, crossing one ankle over the other. "They like
to be taken control of. You just let them know that's what .you. want, and
they'll go for it. Use as much of your strength as you want to." She lifts a
hand, wiggling fingernails. "Use your nails."
Bertha thinks 'There's that wiggling finger thing again.' She asks aloud, "But
where to you tickle them?"
Maggie's eyes widen. Goodness. She glances at Bertha, wondering what sort of
seminar she's just walked in on.
Bertha wasn't able to answer one question of Maura's so they're consulting for
expert advice.
Maura examines her nails, trimmed close to the quick. Should she grow them out?
Miss Gem shakes her head a bit. "Tickling, that's for when you're being silly,
just having fun. You want to seduce him, you use your nails. Even if they're not
very long, they're long enough to scratch just a bit. It feels good." And, to
finally answer, "Oh, just about anywhere. Back, ribs, arms, nipples, thighs.
Inner thighs are great."
Bertha also checks her nails, "And does painting them like that make it better?"
I could probably do that, but that silk thigh length thing sounds cold.
Miss Gem chuckles. "You don't have to paint them."
Maggie is definitely red now. She glances down at her own hands.
Maura asks "His thighs or yours?" She having a hard time picturing this. And is
thigh a polite word?
Bertha's eyes go very very wide, Mississippi width. "Thighs?" she asks with real
emotion. I'm suppose to touch his thighs? Oh, Mercy. She probably touches him
/there/, too.
Miss Gem decides the other two women are cads. Thigh is not a polite word. "His.
Yours, too, maybe, but that gets into masturbation, and I think that's a little
much for you ladies right now." She waves a hand over at Maggie. "Join us?" she
asks brightly.
Maura looks at Bertha, puzzled. What is masturbation? She's never heard of it.
This is getting complicated.
Maggie's blinking. Simultaneously shocked and fascinated, she takes a step or
two over to them.
Bertha slowly sinks onto the floor. Her eyes roll up and disappear.
Maura catches Maggie's movement from the corner of her eye and her head whips
around. "Maggie!" She turns to watch Bertha crumple "Bertha!"
Just you never mind masturbation, Maura. That's too complicated, indeed. Gem
blinks over at the sinking Bertha. "Was it something I said?"
Maura jumps up from the chair and starts fanning Bertha's face with her hand
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!"
Miss Gem glances at Maura. "Have you got smelling salts in here?" Calm down,
woman. She only fainted.
Maggie stops. Oh, dear. She's getting the definite feeling that this was a
Private seminar. She looks around wildly for some water to splash on Bertha's
face.
Maura looks blank for a moment. "Yes! They are in the drawer under the tea tray"
Miss Gem, efficiently, fetches the salts, and waves them under Bertha's nose a
moment or two later. "Here, now, luvie, wake up."
Bertha's unconscious form is breathing rapidly and her thoughts have entered a
strange world where O'Neill is submissive to Bertha's every whim and she's
tickling him and WHOA! She blinks rapidly. "Wha-?"
Maura cries out "She's in a family way you see, and hasn't been feeling well"
She pats Bertha's hand repeatedly.
Maggie considers the general cleanliness of the water in a flower vase, but
abandons that when Bertha wakes up anyway. She hurries over to look down at her
instead.
Bertha's eyes focus on Maura's hand. She mumbles, "Four babies and I never knew
about tickling."
Miss Gem is fighting to keep from laughing. "It's never too late to learn," she
says.
Maura leans over Bertha "Are you all right?"
Maggie looks at Miss Gem and suddenly turns redder. .That's. where she's seen
her. She gawks a little.
Bertha starts to sit up. "I don't know what came over me." She puts a hand to
her forehead. "It's rather hot in here, don't you think?" She tugs at her corset
which is obviously the reason for her troubled breathing.
Maura moves around behind Bertha "Let me just loosen that for you." Her fingers
move toward the buttons on the back of Bertha's dress.
First Miss Gem was using Maura to demonstrate with and now Maura is undressing
Bertha. Maybe she should faint again.
Miss Gem looks between Maura and Bertha. "Should I go on?" Her blue eyes are
dancing, still. This is great fun.
Maura looks up at Miss Gem from where she kneels behind Bertha "But...then
what?" She has to admit a certain fascination for the lurid details Miss Gem
describes. She can already imagine Mat's face when she tries out some of these
suggestions.
Maggie wants her to go on. She's quite forgotten everything she came in here to
buy and looks simply fascinated.
Miss Gem lifts an eyebrow. "Once you have him undressed?" Gem considers, and
discards, the suggestion of oral sex. Bertha would faint again. Maura might,
too. Hell. All three of you might. "Well, you'll want him on bottom, of course.
You can't take control really when .you're. on bottom. Give him a push over. If
you're on a bed, of course. Don't if you're standing up. If he's sitting, well,
that's perfect; just straddle him." Gem assumes you've got enough sense to have
taken your .own. clothes off by this point.
Bertha can breath much easier now and demonstrates by gulping hugely. She's
rather glad she is sitting now, although it is the floor. Floor? Miss Gem said
they could do it on the parlor floor! Oh My!
Maura's eyes grow wider by the minute. She can't believe Mat told her there was
nothing more to it. She asked him straight out and he used to be the Army.
Maggie looks blankly at Miss Gem. She's honestly having a .great. deal of
difficulty picturing this.
Miss Gem points a finger at one of the unfortunate ladies. Perhaps at all of
them, in a row. Stab stab stab. "But you can't just .sit. there, mind you. Those
hips you have will do a lovely rotate, a good old bump and grind."
Maura falls off her heels where she sat back on them. She plops ungracefully to
the floor, feeling a bit faint herself. But also rather warm and tingling.
Bertha still can't understand something, that this is supposed to be fun or
enjoyable for a woman. Her imagination is stretched as she pictures herself
astraddle Thaddeus. This takes so much concentration that she barely notices
Maura's new seating arrangements.
Maggie blinks at Maura and then at Bertha. To avoid their undignified fate, she
decides that it might be a good idea to just sit down voluntarily. In a chair.
Rather heavily.
Miss Gem would put money on you being a virgin, Maggie. Things will become a lot
more clear once you're married and between the bed sheets. "Nipples," she
elucidates. "Not too rough on them, because they're sensitive, just like a
woman's, but they're great to tease. Kisses and licks and things." Well, if
we're all on the floor, Gem takes a more comfortable seat than her crouch,
leaning back and kicking her ankles over one another.
"And," Gem adds, in case anyone's missed this, "when you're on top nipples are
really easy to get at. Oh, and make sure you let your hair down. Men like to
play with hair."
Maura can't imagine you on her father's lap, Bertha. She can't even picture him
having a lap when he's sitting. Just a belly. You'd fall off his knees. In fact,
can you even get to his *cough* to sit on it if that belly's in the way? She
nods to Miss Gem. She knows that already about the hair.
Bertha's fantasy continues. She is astraddle Thaddeus and Nipples? Oh my!
Something new and different is happening to her. She has a very novel experience
of excitement. It's something that has never ever ever occurred before.
Maggie isn't on the floor. She suddenly feels left out. Then she looks at Miss
Gem, repeating, "Hair." That's a concept she can deal with. She thinks.
Miss Gem beckons Maggie to join them on the floor. "You look all lonely up
there." Gem can fix that loneliness, for a price.
Maura straightens her legs out, pulling the hem of her skirt down to cover her
ankles. She hopes Ulaylee Ewing doesn't decide it's time to order a new hat.
Maggie nods uncertainly. She rises and then sits down on the floor,
cross-legged, her skirt tidy around her.
Maura raises her hand like she's in school.
Miss Gem nods at Maura. "Yes?" Just like a schoolma'rm. Only the school Gem
teaches at isn't exactly the one you ladies are familiar with.
And never fear. Ulaylee Ewing won't stay in a room with Gem Trotters for more
than five seconds, long enough to gape, then rush out and tell the town that The
Loose Woman is Out Again. Gem has never actually -spoken- to Ulaylee.
Bertha raises her hand to stray to one of her breasts while she's lost in
thought. Nipples? The thought of gentleness and nipples hasn't been put together
quite in this way before. Something is happening and it's not the sensation she
gets when suckling a baby. This is different.
Maura asks "What do you mean get at? At when do you let your hair down. Before
you, um..sit or during or..." Her voice peters out (no pun intended!). A sense
of unreality overwhelms her. Surely they aren't really sitting here talking to
this woman and getting this information.
This isn't real. Bertha is convinced after she fainted she entered a dream
world.
Maggie looks at Maura, listening to the question. Maura's married already, which
puts her miles ahead of Maggie in this classroom. Maggie's hands fumble with her
sleeves, straightening her cuffs.
Miss Gem purses her lips, shifting her weight to one hand so she can tap a
finger on her chin again. "Any time you want, for the hair. You're in control
here, remember? Whenever you think it'll excite him most, or whenever it feels
best to .you. to take it down. Get at," she adds helpfully. "All right. Say
we're doing this on a bed, right? That's easiest. So he's lying under you. All
you've got to do to get to his nipples is bend a bit, you see?" Maybe you don't.
Maura shakes her head "Bend his nipples?"
And Maura told Bertha earlier 'I have no training ' .. 'It's not like sewing or
cooking.'
Maura starts to giggle. She said that word out loud!
Miss Gem decides to be even more helpful, since Maura's missing what Gem means.
Gem grins at Maura, then climbs up on her knees, hitching her skirt up so that
she can move. Amazingly agile, even wearing a corset, is Gem. "All right. You're
here." She assumes the position. "He's there." Points at the empty space in
front of her. "Your hands go here, above his shoulders." Plants a hand forward.
"Or under his arms." Plants the other hand. Bends, demonstratively. "Nipples are
about .there.," and she moves one hand to poke at the general placement. "So you
suck on them. See?"
Maura nods and says faintly "Am I ...wiggling?" She doesn't say grinding my
hips, but that's what she means.
Maggie probably couldn't be any redder, without endangering her health. Her eyes
get wider, though.
Bertha's poor imagination. Once stretched like this, it will never return to its
original size.
You asked for it, Maura. You really did. Gem nods, straightening up to put her
hands on her thighs, and *va-voom*, there go those hips. "Like _that_."
Maura feels a resultant pang, the demonstration was so vivid. Whoa! She almost
thinks of burning Mat's dinner for holding out on her. And then making up. She
crosses her legs.
Maggie blinks quite a few times. She's obviously missing the prerequisite for
this course, but she's memorizing it all nevertheless.
Miss Gem settles back on her haunches, and says, "Now, to be fair, a lot of men
probably just don't know what to .do. It's a damned shame, really. Those who
-do- know -- " and Gem lets out a throaty chuckle.
Maura leans forward....Yes?
Does O'Neill go to these dusty ladies to lose control when Bertha could be
having a try at enjoying this? Enjoying?! Oh yes, suddenly she can imagine this
being fun.
Miss Gem grins cheerfully. "Any other questions?"
Maura raises her hand. She was always a good student.
Maggie looks expectantly at Maura.
Miss Gem chuckles. "Go ahead."
Maura asks "The one's who know what to do. How do you know if they do? I mean,
what do they..do?"
Maura looks at Bertha and Maggie and flushes slightly. Hopefully this won't get
past the store.
Maggie certainly won't be passing this conversation on. In fact, she'll deny
under oath that she was ever a participant in it, if it comes to that. She turns
that expectant gaze to Miss Gem now.
Bertha lost her virginity almost 8 years ago and has more questions now than
ever before, but somewhere they are stuck in her throat. 'How many licks does it
take? The world may never know'.
Miss Gem lets out another throaty chuckle. "Honey, if it wouldn't get everybody
in so much trouble, I'd tell you to go visit Miguel Mendez. Now .that.," she
says admiringly, "is a man who knows what he's doing. Knows how to touch a
woman, -where- to touch her, knows how to play it rough or gentle, knows when to
just hold you and when to seduce you."
Maura sighs slightly. She's always been sort of attracted to him. She nods
wistfully.
Bertha nods, "That would be trouble." She says simply.
Maggie nods slowly. She's just in a stunned fog at this point.
Maura raises her hand.
Miss Gem tilts an eyebrow at Maura. "Go ahead."
Maura says "And if the woman asks "Is there more to this you aren't telling me
and he says "Nope" is he one of the ones who knows what he's doing or doesn't
know?" This is a very loaded question.
Maggie glances at Maura. Hmmm. She looks back to Miss Gem again.
Miss Gem is about to damn your husband, isn't she? And her blue eyes indicate
that she probably knows that. "He either doesn't know, or he's shy about trying
anything different, luvie. Men can be shy, too." There. Maybe there was some
saving grace in there.
Maura nods thoughtfully and plucks at the fabric of her skirt. She seems content
with that answer.
Miss Gem glances out one of the windows, at the darkening sky. "If you ladies
will excuse me...it's about time for me to go to work. Perhaps we
could...continue this discussion later?"
Maggie nods to Miss Gem, still with that slightly stupid expression.
Maura scrambles to her feet and glances out the window "Oh! You never ordered
your dresses"
Miss Gem pushes herself up to her feet with an easy gesture, hands pressing
thighs down. "I'll come by about those dresses later," she smiles. And we can
continue this fascinating talk.
Maura nods. Maybe Miss Gem will come back after she has some more questions to
ask. For clarification. "You've been most helpful, Miss Trotter." She never
imagined when she and Bertha first started talking they would end up talking
with Miss Trotter like this. Maura wonders if she needs to go to confession
tomorrow.
Bertha has never been this uncomfortable before and enjoying it. Suddenly memory
of things said in the past occur to her and she goes from pale to crimson, a
sunrise.
Maggie climbs slowly to her feet. Oh. "I...um... was going to order something,
too. But it can wait." She smiles politely to Miss Gem.
Miss Gem, absently, says, "Trotters, honey. With an 's' on the end. I'm glad to
help. I'm always open for questions." And other things, but we won't go into
that. No pun intended.
Maura moves to the door, opening it, the bell ringing loudly. Amazing.
Miss Gem chuckles. "Evening, ladies. Nice to meet you." And out she goes,
looking extremely amused.
Miss Gem pushes the door open and leaves for the street. The bell above the door
tinkles a farewell. Miss Gem has left.
Maggie blinks after her and then turns the polite, if slightly blank, smile to
Maura and Bertha.
Maura smiles back just as blankly. This never happened.
Maggie certainly agrees. They've all had a Very Strange Dream. "Well."
Maura nods "Well." She just stands there.
Maura suddenly shakes her head "I'd best put these bolts of fabric away." She
moves away, picking up the bolts from the floor and disappearing into the
storeroom, lookin bemused.
Bertha looks up from the floor, the dream dissipating.
Maggie suddenly giggles. "I was coming to talk to you about a wedding dress."
But not tonight, not any more. Definitely another day. She stuffs her hands into
her pockets and glances toward the door.