broderie anglaise: open embroidery, typically in floral patterns, on fine cotton or linen.
origin: mid 19th century: French, literally English embroidery.
Summary of the amusement
Standing on a window-cleaning platform carrying a squeegee, Stevenson Garden Products teleoperator Clarity Nice and Colorado heiress Montana Sterley, investigate two wealthy women lured to join the All-Women Church of spiritual development headed by British expatriate Cassandra Scafarel in the kingdom of Bahrain, the Church of the Holy Flower. Both women investigated by Sensual Intelligence, Jenny Owens and Shalia Owell, have paid the steep Church membership access price of fifty thousand dollars, and Scafarel wants the two lovely single Board Members to get married to each other, one of them naked, the other wearing an intricate broderie mini dress, to vow their faith and fidelity to the Church´s symbol of affluence and beauty, the Rose of Levity.
In exchange for becoming members of the Church and gaining access to the Rose of Levity´s practical spiritual knowledge, the two bridal neophytes must sign a power of attorney to Scafarel, leaving their Board of Director seats to the shrewd business woman after their wedding. Clarity´s mission is to prevent the marriage of both women, and return them, clothed or unclothed, to their human sexuality studies at University of Arizona, as per the indications of the Board of Directors of a powerful conglomerate, Owens & Owell, a group where both of the women have their Board seats, with ties to several ministries of the kingdom.
Manama, Kingdom of Bahrain, Middle East,
Clarity Nice, wearing construction overalls, tapped on her Bahrain Construction Ministry Inspector plastic helmet, the hard hat, to secure it in place, as the narrow six feet window cleaning platform, also known as a swing stage, lifted to the thirty fifth floor of the spiraling fifty floor glass Cooperation Investment House Building overlooking Bahrain Bay, a building sponsored by the O&O multiglobal conglomerate. Beside her, Colorado oil heiress Montana Sterley, twenty one years of age, in no particular rush to complete her college degree, banged her own hard hat against the railing of the swing stage, in an attempt to catch a piece of paper slipping away from the same hand that was holding a squeegee.
"Do you have the commercial property manager contract?" asked Clarity.
"You lost your hard hat," said Clarity.
Montana looked down as her hat landed on the entrance garden of the office building housing some of the most important businesses in the prosperous land of Bahrain, an offshore money haven losing ground to Dubai, but still scoring a respectable seventy eight percent in banking secrecy, placing tenth out of seventy one countries in the latest financial secrecy index. Alven Donway, the head of the Central Intelligence Sensual Brigade picked up the hard hat, raising his index finger at Montana in mild reprimand.
"Yeah, I hope there’s nothing to hit on the way up, still have my harness though."
"Abrasion resistance, rigging and anchoring system?"
"Not sure, I wasn’t in charge of that, I was ensuring the overhang weight allowance of the platform would carry both of us and that the counterweights were in place in case of a power outage. I think Donway’s idea of us replacing real agents is not so good, this platform moves with the wind."
"We’re cheaper than real agents, Cassandra Scafarel should be on the thirty fifth floor. We need to know the name of Scafarel’s Church, and the meaning of Rosebud in the Church’s main book, Decadence. Donway needs both to indict Scafarel in the Bahamas and extradite her from Bahrain, apparently she’s protected by high ranking individuals here. Why did you decide to join me, you didn’t have to, you know," said Clarity.
"My father says it’s important to know the competition, and I want Maxini," said Montana. She was referring to Scafarel’s right hand, a woman who had disappeared in Manama airport after fleeing from the emirate of Abu Dhabi, where Scafarel’s adult film company Telval Studios distributed some never before seen highly refined adult material in luxury hotels.
"Still thinking about your personal feud?"
"She wants my reputation by showing me naked on the web, just like Paris Hilton. Just defending my turf, she’ll be on the web naked before I am, if I ever am."
"Windex, it’s in the squimjim."
"The squeegee, we find Scafarel, we’ll find Maxini, she’s her assistant."
"No, she’s more than that," said Montana. She noticed a face from a window across her, staring into her navel. "There’s a businessman looking at us from inside the building."
"Soak the squilgee in the bucket, I’ll wave at him, we’re at floor twenty eight, getting there. Who’s O&O, they seem to own a lot of floors in this building?"
"Owens & Owell, it’s a competitor of the group my father heads, the S Group, my father dislikes the fact that they make better two-level commercial planes than we do. They also make sophisticated design lampposts for the highway, but we’re not sure if they’re better than ours."
"The S group?" asked Clarity.
"S for Sterley, my father kept it simple."
A man carrying inside another cleaning platform a giant O letter from the Owens giant sign atop the building, lowered to their level at slow speed. He spoke to them in Arabic, which neither Clarity or Montana understood. Clarity raised their platform to the thirty fifth level, and the other platform followed them insistingly. The man pointed at the squeegee, made by Ettore, the Oakland company employing eighty people, who turned out one hundred fifty thousand squeegees a month. The secret, they said, was in the rubber, which came from Fresno, in the Central Valley.
"Why?" he said, lifting one eyebrow.
"Why are we cleaning?" Asked Clarity.
"No, why not Bahrain squeegee."
"This squeegee leaves a very clean window," said Clarity. The man was annoyed, but accepted the answer reluctantly.
"The other O first," he said, looking above him, "it needs clean-in." Montana whispered to Clarity.
"Told you we should have started by cleaning the O letter from the Owell sign." Clarity held his stare.
"Ten minutes, we’ll be there, first the windows, then the O," she said.
She reached for the neighboring platform’s 'descend' button, and the man’s swing stage started moving down, a look of surprised apprehension replacing the look of annoyance. The man held on to his hard hat and to the O letter from the Owens sign to avoid falling, visibly angry, swearing at both ladies a long series of monosyllables as the distance between swing stages widened to a safe several feet.
Clarity peeked inside the tip of the thirty fifth floor window on her left. According to Donway, it was the office of Cassandra Scafarel, accredited investor of Bahrain, holding one million dollars or more in supranational assets. She was the scoundrel business woman charged by several jurisdictions including the U.S., the Bahamas, British Virgin Islands, and the Food and Drug Administration, with beauty lotion fraud, multiple feminine consensual abduction in the context of a Church for the affluent woman, and distribution of high quality adult content in upscale hotels and a stock exchange.
The office was spacious, decorated with luxurious marble and glass tables, in addition to a few swiveling chairs. A middle aged woman wearing an elegant turtleneck and pants was showing her back to Clarity. In front of her, two attractive women, one blond, one dirty blond, wearing the distinct Owens & Owell hostess cap, were seating across from the woman. Clarity took a small cellphone screen from her pocket and turned on the mirror feature. She pointed the cellphone mirror towards the rising sun until a beam caught the device and immediately reflected on a piece of furniture towards the face of the woman. The woman, bothered by the light, moved her chair, but the beam had sent her image. Clarity matched the picture with a photograph retrieved from the symbolic decryptor of Penelope Avalon by Money Fact. Both features matched, it was the same woman, Cassandra Scafarel.
"Microphone, please," said Clarity, extending her hand. Montana reached for a device inside a shirt pocket.
"This is from the S Group, my father said we should use this one instead of the one Donway gave us. It’ll alert our group of Scafarel’s plans."
"Let’s hope it doesn’t alert Scafarel of us."
Clarity placed the microphone on the window, donning one earphone, giving the other to Montana. Scafarel was pointing to a beautiful white rose on her desk, dipped in a large glass filled with water, labelled as 'gift from the Skyline of Kuala Lumpur', a reference to the name of the harem administered by Scafarel, which boasted some of the world’s most beautiful women, among them Maxini. Scafarel’s voice was grave, commanding, and sexy, expressing firmness in all of her statements.
"You’re no longer employees of Owens & Owell, do you realize that?" The blond woman spoke an answer to the suave business woman.
"Yes, we’d like to get married according to the rites of the Church of the Holy Flower. Permanently, Jenny and I have thought about it and it makes sense to us."
"That can be arranged," said Scafarel, "the Holy Flower is in front of you, and it will be in front of you when you shoot your first adult film for Telval, after you’re both married to each other."
The blond woman, in her early twenties, held the hand of the other woman, also in her twenties, who smiled coyly.
"We know the flower is expensive, do you have a copy of Decadence for us where we can see an illustration of it?"
Scafarel pulled a book from one of the drawers of her desk. She slid it across the glass table and the dirty blond woman caught it.
"Yes, there it is, the flower is open now, but you must find the reference in our book to Rosebud, in order to progress with your spiritual development, which includes delight of the senses and a body chart. My butler Charles and our attorney will be in charge of your biometric passport and of showing you the document where you can give me power of attorney. That needs to happen before the wedding."
"We’re ready to give up money," said the blond girl. Her bride-to-be leafed through the pages of the book that Clarity had briefly read in the Bahamas, before entering Scafarel’s dismantled resort, known as Hexas Style.
"What about our wedding dress?"
Scafarel got up, and Clarity observed her perfect figure. Even despite the ample pants and the middle age, Clarity could guess the firm, round curvature of her bum. Scafarel’s hair was shoulder length, brown, her features crisp, there was an elegance that Clarity had seldom seen in her gait, the self assurance of someone used to being in control.
"One of you will be naked, the other will wear a bridal lingerie piece made from an embroidery, an English broderie nightwear dress based on a Kleinfeld Bridal design called Bateau Sheath. The broderie lingerie piece is being brought into the kingdom by our wedding specialists, using sophisticated transportation."
"I love the idea," said the blonde bride, "one of us naked."
"A broderie dress, or an embroidered bridal piece of lingerie?" asked the dirty blond woman. Details were important to her and Scafarel looked into her lovely brown eyes to answer the query.
"An embroidered bridal mini dress made with English broderie, a large broderie, I call it a broderie, I’d like you to call it a broderie, you can call it a broderie, it’s just a broderie."
"Like the one Lara Stone wore for Alasdair McLellan for British Vogue in November 2010?"
Scafarel checked her private collection of Vogue magazines, digitalized in her computer. She disliked people taking away the effect of surprise when the surprise came from her. The girl had guessed how the broderie looked, before the makeover. She tapped her desk with her fingers, annoyed.
"Sort of, sort of, this one’s more complex, the fabric of this mini dress is more like like the Broderie Anglaise Zara shorts from lookbook.nu, cream color and nicer. It is also a lot more expensive, there’s only one made. Plus, it provides unique sensual awareness."
"Yes, that suits us," said the blond bride-to-be. She whispered to her friend. "Call it a broderie, it sounds nice."
Avene Maxini came inside the door. The twenty five year old assistant of Scafarel was wearing an executive skirt and pale blue shirt, revealing a silver butterfly attached to one of the shirt buttons near her navel.
"The helicopter will be here in ten, we’re ready for their night out." Scafarel dipped a finger in the glass and ran it slowly across the cheek and lips of the woman holding the copy of Decadence.
"Celebrate dears, it’s your last night before getting married, bridal showers happen only once in your life. Then, after the wedding, I’ll teach you more things about your body and the sacred truth of sex and orgasm."
"Multiple orgasm with multiple women?" asked the blond woman.
"Yes," said Scafarel, "and in multiple settings."
TO BE CONTINUED, HERE - THE BAHRAIN BRODERIE.
The Bahrain Broderie is part three of the Holy Flower Trilogy
This amusement got rated four star on goodreads.
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