Mistress Nicotina and the Neo-Thule Society

Goddess for Hire (3432)

My name’s Anastasia, Anastasia Beaumont, my friends call me Tassy. I’m 24 and until recently I was convinced that I was a re-incarnated Second World War resistance fighter named Anna de Beauchamp.

That’s how I met Charles, Doctor Charles Blake. I’d been searching for Charles for the last five years. Well, not specifically Charles. I’d been searching for the re-incarnation of Karl Richter. Karl was a Second World War German officer. We were lovers. When I say we I mean Anna and Karl were lovers in occupied France.

Oh, and I died in his arms. Anna died in his arms; Anna died in Karl’s arms. I didn’t die. I wasn’t there. Well, I thought I was there but when I was there, I was Anna, not Tassy. I hope you’re following me so far. It’s just so romantic, isn’t it?

Anyway, I was certain that I’d found Karl when I discovered this author named Lucien Drake – that’s one of those nom-de-thingies that authors use. Lucien is actually Charles Blake. His books are about a psychic investigator called Damion Stranger.

I have to say Charles’s books are quite good and way more digestible than his DPD – or is it a DFS – anyway he wrote this university thingy with the title A Comprehensive Exegesis of Teutonic Mythopoetic Traditions and Their Protracted Socio-Historical Influence on the Eschatological and Ideational Foundations of Nazism in the Twentieth Century.

I know, I know, but that tells you so much about Charles. He has an intellect larger than a Labrador’s appetite. Apparently, his book did well in academic circles. I said, Charles, sweetie, I bought a copy, and I leave on my coffee table. When my girlfriends come round for prosecco and naughty gossip I say “Oh, my goodness, I thought it was another Fifty Shades but not a handcuff in sight.” I suggested to Charles that he retitled it Nasty Nazi Nightmares at Bedtime.

Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, I tracked down Charles after I found one of his Damion Stranger books and did a little detective work. I have to tell you that Charles is the most sceptical person you could ever meet yet when I told him that I was Anna de Beauchamp and he was Karl Richter, he took it so much better than the other three men and the woman I broke that same news to.

Now, if you think all of this seems just a teeny, tiny bit hard to believe, just imagine how I felt when I discovered I was wrong. Totally, hopelessly wrong. It turns out that I’m not a re-incarnated Second World War French Resistance fighter, I’m a tenth century Norse Goddess named Astrid. Yes, I was surprised, too.

Charles and I have a good friend named Evelyn; Professor Evelyn Marwood and she knows a lot about all this Norse myth stuff. She told us that Astrid is the sister of Freya who we know a lot about. We don’t know so much about Astrid. We do know that Astrid is the Goddess of enchantment. Her voice and movements bend wills. She is irresistible, hypnotic, mischievous and so very me!

Now, I can’t tell you too much about this because Charles is writing a book about it that he’s calling Soul Merge. Oh, it’s just so adorably romantic because the title refers to how the souls of Charles and me merge and become the most potent force for good in London and the Universe. I bet you can hear me sighing!

You’d think the life of a Goddess would be easy, wouldn’t you. Well, it’s not. You see there’s this mystical, secret society called the Neo-Thule Society who want to enslave Astrid – me -to help them with their mission of world domination. It’s rather complex even for a Goddess to get her head around, but there might be this magical runestone that they can bind my soul to – they call this soul binding. And there’s no safe word!

Oh, and did I mention that they want to kill Charles? Sorry, I can be a ditzy little thing sometimes. Yes, they want to kill Charles because he’s my Protector. In this life, Charles and I met just before Christmas 2024, but we’ve known each other since the 10th century, off and on.

Charles is human but he has something that he calls Peter’s Nature abilities. He senses danger, especially when I’m in danger, in the weirdest ways. He’s synaesthetic and quite literally smells danger, or feels it, or hears it, or tastes it or sees it. We also have a special connection. We somehow sense what each other is feeling or thinking.

So, a few weeks ago, I saw an advert on LinkedIn for a Goddess. It was posted by the Neo-Thule Society. I gave them a call and asked for an application pack. The information in the pack was a bit sparse I have to say. The JD simply talked about doing everything to assist with the Society’s mission of world domination. Well. I had to apply, didn’t I?

So, I thought you’d be interested in knowing how the interview went. You would, wouldn’t you? Here goes then. When the interview was over, I went back to Charles’s place.

“So how did the interview go?” asked Charles.

Charles was standing in the kitchen making tea. I walked behind him, placed my arms around his waist and kissed him chastely on the cheek. I know how he loves it when I do this. He always stiffens a little, like he’s trying to control himself, and this time was no exception. “Stressful, darling,” I said, “and now I’m simply gasping for a little angel. I’ll tell you all about it soon. Back in a tick tock.”

“Tea?” asked Charles.

“Yes, please.”

I went outside and searched in my white leather Mulberry handbag for my cigarettes. I’d only had one cigarette this morning at about 7.30. Seven hours later, I was now so nicotine starved, I’d sell my body into celibacy for just one heavenly lungful of Mistress Nicotina’s divine breath.

I opened the packet and breathed in the gorgeous aroma of fresh tobacco, a faintly bitter-sweet, rich, comforting earthy aroma. Just holding the packet and breathing in the delicious scent pushed wonderful tension relieving waves through my body and mind.

I pulled out one of my little angels and softly caressed the filter with my lips. Any moment now it would be alight. I flicked my lighter. The calming, drowsy crackle of the paper had its usual hypnotic, seductive pull on my senses.

I drew heavily on the cigarette. I inhaled. The smoke was honey coated gravel in my throat followed by a soothing pulse in my lungs. And then, oh, my goodness, and then the nicotine hit my head. I let out a soft “Oh, ahh,” and felt myself gently tremble. The rush of nicotine through my head was forbidden bliss.

For a moment I was bliss, I was ecstasy. I was euphoria. Elation. Joy. I was disorder. I was disobedience. Perversity. Forbidden.

I drew on my cigarette again, once, twice, three times. My whole body relaxed. My mind was intoxicatingly clear.

I stubbed out my cigarette and sprayed Tuberose Nue on my fingers. Charles will be enchantedly aroused by the scent of my perfume and smokey breath. I walked into the kitchen and said, “Hey, sweetie, I’m back.”

“Feeling better, now,” asked Charles.

“Oh, my goodness, Charles, if only you knew.”

“Somehow, I might. You look as relaxed as a saxophone chord in a jazz bar. And I sensed it about five minutes ago.”

“I smiled. “Sensed, what, dear?”

“I tasted joy, heard the relief of tension and felt, as in felt in my fingers, something a little naughty. Anyway, back to your interview. You were dressed as you are?”

“Yes?”

“I approve.”

“I know you do, dear, it’s our connection. Clothes are important. I took my time over my choice.”

“How long?”

“Three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” said Charles.

“Yes, but I got my outfit longlist down to its shortlist in two days.”

“How many outfits on the long list?” Charles asked.

“Forty-five and forty-nine pairs of shoes.”

“How many on the shortlist?”

“Forty-four and fifty pairs of shoes.”

“The number of shoes went up?” said Charles.

“I think I miscounted on the long list. Anyway, clothes, and accessories, are important. They say so much about you.”

“And what does your interview ensemble say about you?”

“Well, I thought I’d choose something sensible, which for me screams Chanel.” I pointed to the duck-egg blue tweed dress suit I was wearing.

“Classic,” said Charles.

“I think it says, ‘Tassy is a very competent young women and that outfit – as well as marking her out as a woman of taste and refinement - is just flirty enough to suggest a personality that is original, fun and feminine.’ I think it also says, ‘this woman could run a business, a fashion house in Paris or Milan, or a mystical, secret organisation intent on world domination.’

“Notice, Charles, how the skirt is just above the knee. I have good legs, so when it’s important, I think I should put them on show. But just above the knee is a respectable length. It’s not going to shock anyone.”

I took off my jacket. “Your blouse is pretty,” said Charles.

“I knew you’d notice. It’s Max Mara silk knit - cap sleeves, soft as tear at a wedding. And what do you think of the bag,” I waved it under Charles’s nose.

“Large enough to hide a conspiracy theory but small enough so you don’t lose your balance. So, who interviewed you?”

“Well, Otto was there, of course. Then they had their head of Global Talent Acquisition, a man named Herman Whinniton – pronounced why knee ton. The head of HR was on the panel, Philomena Proudfuss. And the man who services the photocopiers, Dalton.”

“The man who services the photocopiers?” Charles sounded surprised.

“Charles, you sound surprised.”

“I am.”

“Nowhere near as surprised as Dalton. He only came in the room looking for his digital calliper and before you could say paper jam, he was making up the numbers on the interview panel. Apparently, the newly appointed head shadow operations was feeling faint and had phoned in sick this morning.”

“Interesting line up,” said Charles. “So, what happened next.”

“So, Otto kicked off. He said, ‘good morning, I’m Otto, von Voight, Head of the Neo Thule Society, and Dictator Elect of the world. He then got the others to introduce themselves.”

“I had noticed, Charles, that Otto, Herman and Philomena were all wearing gold crowns, like nine sided squares.”

“Nonagons,” said Charles.

“Yes, dear, they were very silly and plastic, I think. I was too polite to say anything. But you know how you can’t help looking at something, like a wart on a person’s nose, once you’ve seen it? Well, I must have been staring at the crowns. Otto said, ‘You’ve noticed our crowns, Miss Beaumont. How very observant you are. They are important symbols of our organisation. We will continue to wear them during the interview.’

“And then, Charles, after the introductions, Otto got up and walked to the other side of the room. I hadn’t noticed before, but at the far end there was a rabbit hutch. Otto leaned into the hutch and came out with a large white Rabbit.

“Otto sat back in his seat and put the Rabbit on his lap. He looked at me and said, ‘This is Rabbit Dick.’ He then put his arms in the position of someone about to do a bunny hop, except he was sitting down and said, ‘Rare Rabbit.”

After he said ‘Rare Rabbit’ he made a fut, fut noise with his upper teeth on his bottom lip. Herman and Philomena both said, ‘Rare Rabbit, fut, fut,” and did the bunny hop position with their arms.

“Dalton looked all embarrassed like he’d replaced a magenta toner cartridge with a black one. And I must say, darling, I’m not easily startled but Rabbit Dick blew a hole in my Haloumi Muffin and made it into a doughnut.”

“What startled you?” asked Charles.

“The fact that Rabbit Dick was a Rabbit. It just doesn’t seem right that the Dictator Elect of the world is stroking a rabbit on his lap.”

“What were you expecting, a cat?” asked Charles.

“Oh, no, something way more sinister, like a hedgehog with a python round its neck. Now that really gives a girl a nightmare in her daydreams.”

“Anyway,” said Charles, “back to the interview.”

“Where was I? Oh, yes, Otto said, ‘Once the interview starts, I will be making a few notes so please don’t get worried or distracted when you see me scribbling away. ‘Now, Miss Beaumont, just to get you relaxed, tell me and the panel a little about yourself. This is not part of the interview and whatever you say won’t be used as part of the selection process.’ Well, I have to say, Charles, that was something that rather surprised me.”

“What surprised you?”

“That talking about myself would not be taken into account. I mean, I’m being interviewed, and it seems pretty important to me that I talk about myself. You know, to highlight my best qualities.”

“That wouldn’t take long?”

“Charles, that is very rude.”

“Go on, Tassy, do it.”

“Do what, dear?”

“Repeat the word rude silently while drawing a large letter R with your prettily manicured right forefinger.”

“Oh, Charles, you’re so getting to know me.”

“What colour are your nails by the way, pink?”

“Soft rose, darling, Chanel Ballerina. Gloriously feminine, outrageously expensive and so perfectly me!”

“Anyway, no doubt you pointed out to the panel that they should take into account what you say about yourself.”

“Of course, and they all agreed.”

“Then what?” asked Charles.

“So, Herman went first with his questions. He asked, ‘Why have you applied for this job?’

“I have to say that was a rather foolish question, but I guess it was given to him by HR. I said, sweetie, have you seen how many jobs there are for Norse Goddesses? He shook his head. I shook mine and mouthed the word one. I did my finger describing thing as you call it, Charles. I continued by saying, so, there’s not exactly much choice for a Goddess, is there. And I’ll bet you’ve not exactly had an avalanche of applications, have you?

“The lady from HR said, ‘we can’t disclose that for reasons of confidentiality.’ Oh, my goodness, I said you’ve had no other applications, whose confidentiality are you keeping confidential. I’m a Goddess, no I’m The Goddess. There are no others. It’s not like I catch up frequently with my Goddess girlfriends for emotional support sessions over a glass or two of mead. If you’ve had any other applications, they’re from people who need therapy not employment.”

“Good answer,” said Charles.

“So, it came to Philomena’s turn, that’s the lady from HR. She asked, ‘Miss Beaumont, what training do you think you will need in order to contribute optimally to the organisation,’ Once again, Charles, a rather silly question, I thought. I mean how do you train a Goddess? This is the real world. There are no Goddess training schools. So, I simply said it would be very useful if you had someone who had experience in the whole world domination thing. Someone who’s had her soul bound to a runestone and has spent her time enchanting people to do the bidding of the Neo Thule Society.”

“And what did Philomena say to that?” asked Charles.

“She gave quite a long-winded answer that ran something like this ‘Well Miss Beaumont, during the onboarding period we can talk about how we can skilfully upskill, reskill, deskill, unskill, mentor, coach and support you along our Learning Pathway.’

“She went on, ‘In line with our multi-factor competency framework and following a needs analysis we will ensure that you have every opportunity to continuously improve. There will be many, many, many, opportunities for knowledge transfer in workshops, desktops, top shops, chip shops, book shops, bus stops and stop cocks.’

“Charles, why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” asked Charles.

“With a look of shock.”

“I am shocked.”

“Why?”

“Because Philomena split an infinitive.”

“She spilt her coffee, but I didn’t see her doing anything with her infinitive. It’s not really the thing to do at a Goddess’s interview, is it?”

“Anyway, Philomena carried on, ‘You’ll be able to undertake learning, e-learning, blended learning, early learning, late learning, visual learning, auditory learning, kinaesthetic, learning and experiential learning.’

“Still more from Philomena, ‘And we pride ourselves on the quality of our leadership development, performance enhancement and immersion and engagement in soft skills development. How does that sound, Miss Beaumont?”

“What did you say,” asked Charles.

“Not much for a Goddess, then.”

“Next,” said Charles.

“So, then we get to Dalton. ‘Hi, said Dalton.’

“Hi, Dalton, I said. I liked him. He seemed a little nervous. Go ahead, sweetie, I said, ask me a question.”

He read from a paper; another HR question no doubt. He coughed “How long have you worked as a Goddess, Miss Beaumont.”

“Sweetie, I said I don’t work as a Goddess, but I’ve been a Goddess since about 1000 AD, or is it BC.”

Otto said, “AD BC, isn’t that a group?”

“You’re thinking of AC DC, said Dalton. I’ve got Brian Johnson’s autograph.”

“Are they doing anything currently, I asked, and everyone started laughing.”

“You don’t say,” said Charles.

“I do say, and it’s quite disconcerting even for a Goddess when she doesn’t get the joke that she’s just told.”

“That leaves Otto to question you, then,” said Charles.

“Yes, it was now Otto’s turn. ‘Miss Beaumont,’ he said, ‘we are an ambitious organisation.’

“I didn’t say anything, but that was an obvious thing to say from the head of an organisation that has designs on world domination. I mean as ambitions go, they don’t get much bigger, do they.”

“I guess not,” said Charles.

“Anyway, Otto continued, ‘what made you apply to us?’

“I’m sorry, Charles, but I’m afraid I behaved like an awful bitch to poor Otto. I do sympathise, with him. You know he’s a dictator and that’s a very small club. Not as small as Goddesses. I mean he’s got President Putty in Russia…”.

“Putin”

“And Kimmy in North Korea…”.

“Kim Jong Un.”

“Darling, I’m sure their friends call them Putty and Kimmy. Those names make them sound all warm and loveable. Like squidgy Teddy Bears. Anyway, the point is that Otto can give Putty and Kimmy a call now and then – I’m sure they’ll be in a Whatsapp group. But it’s still lonely at the top. And I was such a bitch, to poor Otto.”

“How were you a bitch, Tassy?” asked Charles.

“I said Otto, these are very poor questions. Herman’s already asked me that one. He mumbled something about HR and how difficult it is to get the right staff. And I said, I really didn’t think I’d had an opportunity to shine at this interview. And then I felt awful and apologised for behaving like a spoilt little Goddess. It was like my feet had been dancing a Russian Hopak in my mouth.

“Otto was very sweet, and so was Dalton. They said they understood entirely. Philomena looked like she was practising facial origami and putting the folds in the wrong place. And Herman, the Global Talent Acquisition Manager was reading a book called Talent Acquisition Management for the Redundant.”

“Was that it?” asked Charles.

“Not quite, Otto had one more question. I think he was trying to make amends for the poor-quality questions so far. He asked, ‘Miss Beaumont, as a Goddess, how do you propose to balance cosmic responsibility with brand integrity in a fast-paced, digitally disrupted moral universe?’”

“So, how did you answer that one?” asked Charles.

“Oh darling, I simply had no idea what he was talking about. I know I’m a Goddess, but even Goddesses struggle to understand nonsense. So, I just put together a few sentences and sprayed a few words that sounded relevant like a great Dane marking his territory around a lamppost.

“I began, it’s super-important for all brands - especially a brand that wants to be the leader in the world domination space – to be totally accountable for their authenticity. Transparency isn’t good enough. You’ve got to be completely see-through. So see-through that you’re invisible. Not as invisible as the invisible man – we don’t want to bandage our faces to be seen. We have to be just see-through enough to be not so invisible to need bandages.

“People must trust us. World dominators get a bad press. We must change that. We must be the world dominators you’d let your mother have dinner with and your kids be babysat by. We live and die by our reputation. If our reputation is to remain intact, we must be consistently, ethically aligned with our values. If we do this our credibility will be so credible everyone will believe what we say.

“All of this becomes even more important in a fast-paced, digitally disrupted moral universe. To survive we have to be resilient and adaptable. If we don’t adapt our resilience there is a danger that our transparency won’t become see-through and accountability will cease to be authentic. And where will that leave us? It will leave us where we don’t want to be. And we have to be where we want to be. So, in short, there’s just one answer to the question: We must be cosmically responsible with brand integrity because of the fast-paced, digitally disrupted moral universe we live in.”

“Nice answer,” said Charles, “how did they react?”

“Dalton simply said, ‘Brilliant, will you marry me?’ Otto nodded very seriously. Herman scribbled notes furiously, no doubt to use when he next gets interviewed. And Philomena, said to Otto ‘That’s not one of the answers we can accept.”

“So how did it all end?” asked Charles.

“Otto said he wanted to offer me the job. Philomena said they had to discuss it first and agree on a decision. So, Otto said he’d let me know in a day or two.”

“Everyone stood up, Otto put Rabbit Dick on the table, bunny hopped and said ‘Rare Rabbit, fut, fut. Herman and Philomena did the same. Dalton looked even more embarrassed like he’d come along with a copy of Playboy instead of a service manual.”

“Quite a day, then,” said Charles.

“It was an experience. But you know Charles, I can’t help thinking that Rabbit Dick needs a much bigger hutch.”

“Will you take the job, if it gets offered to you?”

“I’m not sure world domination is quite my thing. And I have to say, they seemed to lack a sense of humour. But then I guess world domination is nothing to laugh about, is it? Oh, my goodness, I so need a cigarette.”