The White Glove Society.
By ninja5
Bailie glanced over at her younger cousin. “You sure about this Dakota? I wasn’t a planed baby and I turned out pretty good.”
“Bailie, I know you agree with the great state we call home and its anti-abortion laws, but it was your brother who knocked me up. I ain’t having no toothless offspring.”
“Well why did you sleep with him?” Bailie checked her cousin again. Dakota, like all the women in the Walters family was quite beautiful. She wore frayed denim shorts, a blue singlet, and a checkered cotton shirt. She liked to show skin and get the guys around town to chase after her. It was the only power a girl her age could have outside of starting a family.
“I don’t know. I was running and he caught me.”
“That’s the worst excuse for getting knocked up by your cousin I’ve ever heard Dakota Walters.”
“Just drive.” Dakota nervously ran her finger over her tanned arm. “Why Massachusetts anyway?”
“I’ve always wanted to go. What do you care, it’s not like you’re helping with gas money.”
“We don’t belong there.”
“We don’t belong no place that’ll do what you need doing Dakota. I’m just as pretty as you and I never let one of your brothers catch me.”
“But you’re gettin’ older and slower bitch.”
“I’m twenty-three to your barely eighteen. When you get to be twenty-three maybe you’ll learn a thing or two about who to trust.”
“So that’s it. You just don’t trust the boys around town. Heck Ma told me you was a lesbian.” Dakota arced up, rattled around her seat and pinched her cousin’s breast.”
“DAKOTA. Knock it off. Ain’t nothing wrong with being a lesbian, but I ain’t. I’m bi. That means I like boys and girls. I like girls better, but a good boy, I mean one of those smart universities boys; I’ve always wanted one of those. That’s why we’re going to Massachusetts, it’s where Harvard is.” Bailie suddenly felt self conscious. She was close to her cousin, but that was something she had never shared before. She took another stare at her cousin. She immediately regretted it.
Dakota sat eyes and mouth wide open, a look on exploding excitement on her face. “Holy shit Bailie. I was just joking about the Lesbian stuff. You want to chase after me?”
“I ain’t like my brother. How come you only listened to half of what I said?”
“I listened. You’re a great big lesbian, but you still want some smart college dick.” Dakota laughed out loud and kicked the floor. That’s why you borrowed my best dress for this trip. You wanna get chased.” Bailie looked down on the light summer dress. It showed of her cleavage in just the right way.
“I don’t appreciate your tone Dakota.” Bailie was getting angry. The car started to accelerate.
Dakota realized she had taken it too far. “Come on Bailie, it’s just a shock to hear you talk like this.”
“I know what I want Dakota. I don’t see why I can’t help myself while I’m helping you?”
“You can Cousin. Come on, calm down. I need a drink before tomorrow. When we get to Massachusetts you pull into a bar were them smart boys hang out and I’ll help you get one.”
The car slowed down to the speed limit again. “Ok, that’s a plan. But not a word to anyone about me liking girls and college boys. You say one word and I’ll catch you good and proper.”
Dakota was shaken awake by her cousin. “Where are we?” She said surveying the car park.
“We’re about twenty miles from the heart of Harvard Country.” Bailie paused and pointed to a row of cars in front of a bar. “Look.”
Dakota rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stared out of the pickup truck. “What am I looking at? All I see is a heap of fancy cars.”
“Look at the stickers on the cars. They say Go Crimsons, that’s the Harvard football team.”
“I know. My Daddy watches college ball with yours.” Dakota looked in the rearview mirror and adjusted her hair. “What’s your plan?”
“I don’t know. Find one who looks nice and go talk to him. If he’s up for running, I’ll let him catch me.” They both got out of the car and walked towards the bar. Bailie nervously straightened her dress. Dakota picked up on her nerves.
“Don’t worry cousin. You looked real pretty in my dress. These college boys are gonna be fighting over you.” It wasn’t a lie. Dakota was young, flirtatious and had beautiful toned muscle, but Bailie was the real beauty. “You’re slender like one of those Victoria Secrets models on account of your Daddy earning not enough money to give you enough food. But that’s good, I hear these college boys like scrawny girls.”
“I ain’t scrawny Dakota Walters, I’m petite. Mama told me.” The pair drew closer to the bar and its neon lights. Bailie stopped and straightened her dress again. She nervously looked at her cousin. “Ok, time to get me a college boy.”
The bar was different from home. Plaques depicting winning teams and clubs replaced animal trophies. There was no stale smell of mud and sweat. The laughter from the groups of people was different too. Instead of sporadic hearty laughter there was an intimidating whit to it. As Dakota ventured in looking at the groups of college kids, Bailie hung back hopefully glancing around. In the far corner on a small table a handsome well built man, about Baillie’s age, sat with a larger football type boy. As Bailie stared he turned his head and instinctively to her. He smiled shallowly.
“Dakota” Bailie called. “I found one I want to talk to.”
“Already, at home as slow as molasses’ and as picky as a spoilt pig.”
“I told you Dakota, I’m twenty-three, and I know who to trust.” Bailie immediately walked into the depth of the bar, past groups of mixed ethnicity towards the pair. As she drew closer she slowed down. Her nerves had returned and she was unsure of what to say. From behind Dakota placed her hand on the small of her back and gently pushed her to keep her momentum going. As they drew even closer Bailie got a better look at the pair.
The one Bailie liked sat on his stool, head down, meditating over a picture of beer. He looked up as they drew closer. He was well built with flawless skin; obviously he was a healthy eater. He had the look of a dark poet about him, and seemed to be paying no attention to his friend, who looked as if he was almost standing guard. When they finally reached the table Bailie just stood there in silence meeting the gaze of the Harvard boy.
From behind Bailie heard Dakota mutter “Oh for Christ sake.” Immediately after she stepped from behind Bailie she said, “Hi, how’s it moving. I’m Dakota. This shy one is my cousin Bailie. She’s all silence ‘cause she doesn’t know what to say to you. She thinks you’re cute.”
Panic took Bailie for a second; she fidgeted with her hands and sharply turned her head to her cousin. She wanted to whisper Dakota and hush her but was worried about making a scene in front of the boy.
The smiled shallowly back. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Dakota” he paused for a second, “and Bailie.” He stared deeply into Baillie’s eyes. “I think she’s very beautiful, would you care to join my friend and me.”
Bailie exhaled bashfully and relaxed. The boy’s large friend pulled two stools back like a servant and Dakota and Bailie sat down.
“I’m Randy, this is my housemate Gredlar.”
“Gredlar?” Dakota started.
“Michael Gredlar. He’s the substitute quarterback for the Crimsons. He’s yet to get a game, but we all call him Gredlar because it’s a suitable name for the on-the-field beast he is.”
“Gredlar hey!” Dakota eyed the large silent friend. “Reckon as a quarter back you could run pretty fast.”
“I can.” Gredlar spoke up, visibly a little puzzled by the statement.
“I bet you could catch me.” Dakota said staring at his broad shoulders. “Is everything proportional?”
“Dakota Walters!” Bailie gasped embarrassed. She gave a mortified look to Randy as he started laughing.
“She’s excitable isn’t she?” Randy said friendly to Bailie as he resumed staring into her eyes.
“I’d be free of her if she wasn’t my cousin.” Bailie said gaining a little confidence.
“That’s a charming accent you have, where are you girls from?” Randy took a sip of his beer as finished talking. As Randy asked the question the rest of the room slipped into the background. There was focus from both Bailie and Randy. Bailie didn’t even notice Dakota overly easy signals to Gredlar.
“We’re from...” A waitress dropped a tray of empty glasses. The bar exploded with noise and jeers. “… way in the heart of the South” Bailie finished.
“I haven’t been down that way. I can see I’m missing out.” Randy chanced a look at Baillie’s cleavage. Bailie bashfully exhaled again and let out a faint moan. Dakota ruined the moment.
“Hey Bailie, I haven’t peed for three states come to the restroom with me.” She tugged on Baillie’s arm. Bailie would have resisted but she needed to go to.
“Um, we’ll be right back. Don’t give away our seats.” Bailie smiled at Randy and followed her cousin towards to toilets.
Dakota sat in the stall whilst Bailie stared at herself in the mirror. Having gotten a guy like Randy’s attention she felt beautiful. She surveyed the nape of her neck and the gentle, tone lines that highlighted her cleavage. She pulled down on the dress so more skin of her bosoms showed.
“I admit I thought you were crazy Bailie, but that Randy guy looks at you likes hungry or something.” Dakota yelled from the stale.
“I bet he’s smart too. I reckon we got here just in time. Five more minutes and some floozy from the College would have gotten him.”
“Have you looked around Bailie? You’re like the prettiest girl here.” Dakota paused. “I bet that Gredlar is like a bear in the sack. I recon even if I play possum he’s gonna growl and charge me.”
“Just don’t let him catch you so easy. I recon he might end up thinking you’re just some piece of meat.” Bailie fluffed her hair to see if it changed her look. From behind a stale flushed and a city girl in a T-shirt and tight jeans got out. As she washed her hands she chanced a look at Bailie. Bailie noticed her stare and slowly turned her head.
The girl looked concerned. “Excuse me. Are you the girl who was sitting with Randy Whitehead?”
“I was chatting to him.” Bailie turned back to the mirror.
The look of concern grew on the girls face. “I’m not trying to be” she paused. “I realize he seems normal, but” she paused again. “There’s something off about Randy Whitehead.”
Baillie’s head sharply turned and looked at the girl. She looked intelligent and friendly, but her statements contradicted Baillie’s feelings and that made her somehow confrontational. “What do you mean?” Bailie said, starting to worry.
From behind them the stale flushed and Dakota emerged. “Listen bitch” she had clearly heard every word. Dakota pointed a finger at the girl and had an angry look on her face. “We don’t need no uppity rich bitch trying to run us off a good time.”
The girl became defensive at the sudden assault. “No I was just trying to warn you.”
“Warn us. We get ourselves a good time in your state and you want to run us off.” Dakota eyes flashed with passion.
“No, it’s not like that.” The girl started backing away.
“What’s the matter, my cousin can’t get what she wants. Randy wants to chase her and she’s up for being caught. You’re just angry ‘cause no matter how slow you go you always seem to get away.”
“I have no idea what you’re saying; I was just trying to be friendly.” The girl turned and briskly walked out of the toilet. When she was gone Dakota washed her hands. Bailie looked at her, partly with disapproval over her aggression, and partly with gratitude over her loyalty.
“Come on Bailie. I reckon we’re both gonna have a good time tonight.” Dakota walked out of the restroom and Bailie followed.
When they got out Randy and Gredlar we’re collecting their coats and pushing the stools back in the table. Baillie’s heart sunk as they approached them. Randy seemed not to notice the look of concern on her face.
“Are you going” Bailie said softly to Randy. Dakota and Gredlar resumed eyeing each other.
“We are. You coming?” He said smiling at her.
Baillie’s heart lifted again. “Where are we going?” She’d already accepted the invitation.
“Back to our place. I think these two want to do more than just look at each other.”
Bailie chanced a look at her cousin. She was ready to boil. “What about our truck?”
“We can leave it here tonight and drop you off tomorrow morning. Sound good?” As he spoke he drew closer to Bailie. The two of them were sharing breath. It made Bailie light headed.
“Sound perfect.” With consent, Randy placed his arm around Baillie thin waist and led her out of the bar. Dakota followed shortly after behind Gredlar. She was eagerly watched his ass as he walked.
The car trip didn’t go as smoothly as Bailie had hoped. Dakota started on a rant about the Mercedes Benz Randy drove. She started by questioning the reliability of foreign cars and ends with a speech on how America saved the world in WW2. Bailie wished Dakota’s sex drive and mouth weren’t linked. She kept looking across at Randy every sentence, waiting for him to object. Randy smiled a satisfied smile and occasionally glanced fondly at Bailie. After several minutes she summed up the courage to put her hand on his as he changed gears. The two didn’t speak; this only helped the positive tension build.
Randy pulled into an old brick house with vines creeping up the brickwork. To Bailie it looked at least a hundred years old.
“Holy shit, you guys must be loaded.” Dakota exclaimed.
The four of them exited the vehicle and walked towards the house. Randy and Bailie met side by side and held hands. Dakota walked in front of Gredlar, this time he watched her ass. As they entered the house everything was Victorian and maculate. Without hesitation Gredlar walked up to Dakota and lifted her into his arms carrying her off to some room down a hall. Dakota squalled and giggled with delight.
“Holy smokes Bailie. I’m getting charged by a bear.” She flayed her legs and arms, not disrupting the grip Gredlar had on her. “You two have…” Dakota’s words were sharply cut off as the door to Gredlar's room closed. Bailie frowned and turned to Randy.
Sensing her question he answered, “Old brick work. The rooms are sound proof. It’s handy for when Gredlar brings girls around.”
Bailie smiled shyly, not really caring. Her focus was solely on Randy. The two stared into each other’s eyes, subtly aware that they were both leaning forward. After a few seconds of grace they met half way and kissed. Randy took her hand and led her upstairs.
Bailie awoke alone in Randy’s bed. Light drifted in from the window and warmed her. She was intensely happy. A glowing feeling spread into her body from between her legs. Randy had been the most compassionate lover she had ever had. She rolled over looking for him. She immediately felt his absence. She sniffed the bedding. His cologne was still present and it made her fill better. She wanted more though and she called his name. No reply came. She called again louder before rolling to the side and sitting up. The room was so still. Briefly she thought about getting back in bed and waiting for him, but it was still very much a strange house. She slipped her white dress on without putting on her panties and walked to the door. She opened it and called out again. The house was still. She walked down the hall towards the stairs and descended them.
“Randy.” No response. “Dakota.” No response. “Gredlar?” Silence.
She remembered the rooms were soundproof and turned down the hall to Gredlar’s room. As she approached it she moved away from windows and natural light. The surrounds dimmed as she walked closer to the door, it created an atmosphere of imposition. As she reached the door she gently knocked on it. No response came. She started to call out her cousin’s name, realized again the room was soundproof and decided she’d chance opening it. The brass handle turned freely and she walked into the faintly lit room.
Horror froze her in her tracks. In the centre of the room Dakota lay screaming, her wrist and ankle shackled her to a stainless steel operating table. Her face was red from exertion and stained with tears. As she saw Bailie she yelled, “They ate my leg. The fuckers, fucking ate my leg.”
Body frozen in panic Bailie’s stared down at Dakota’s left leg. It was missing below the knee.
“Get me out of here cous’. They said they were going to get blood for a transfusion so I wouldn’t expire, but they’re coming back.” Dakota tore her arms and leg against the restraints in fear driven panic.
All sense of romance flushed out of Bailie and she ran to her cousin’s side. Her finger fiddled and fumbled over the latches to the restraints but she wasn’t thinking clearly. There was a loud thud, and the door to the room slammed shut. Randy and Gredlar stood blocking the only exit.
“I suppose you had to find out sooner or later.” Randy said coldly.
Bailie screamed.
Gredlar charged grabbing both her flailing arms and pinning them to her sides. He stood behind her holding her in place. She gasped, struggled and then grew rigid as Randy approached them. He held out his hands a cupped them around her face.
“So beautiful and so naive. You’re perfect.” Randy’s eyes no longer seemed like a trouble poets. The deranged nature of his gaze was blatantly clear.
Bailie tried to twist her head away so she didn’t have to look at him. Randy held it firmly in place. “What did you do to my cousin?” she begged.
“We ate her. She’s delicious.” Randy hand caressed Bailie’s hair as he spoke. “We could take more, or you and I can make a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” The panic eased as Bailie sensed hope.
“Come with me to a Society Lunch and we’ll let Dakota go.”
“I don’t believe you.” Bailie’s jaw grew rigid. She was confused but not about the look in Randy’s eyes. It was the look the hunters back home got after they’d killed to many animals.
Randy took his eyes of Bailie. “She doesn’t trust us.” He said looking at Gredlar. Perhaps if we show her what poor Dakota will go through if she doesn’t agree.” The evil smile on Randy’s face grew. “Still hungry Gredlar?”
“Gredlar shook Bailie’s body and said “I could eat.”
Bailie knew it was bad, as Dakota began screaming again. From the confusion Randy’s deliberate motions produced a scalpel. Both Bailie and Dakota eyed it with fear. Gredlar let out a droll giggle. Dakota stopped screaming and began to beg. “Please, not again. Don’t take anymore.” Her face contorted in emotional agony.
“I’m sorry Dakota, but your cousin has to understand.” Very deliberately he began to cut below her knee. Dakota erupted in pain, howling for him to stop. Bailie froze in terror, and numbness coming over her. Every time Bailie looked away Gredlar would shake her body violently until she watched again. With such a shallow blade it just seemed to go on and on. Through her convulsions Dakota finally passed out. Randy, with bloodied hands, produced a vile of smelling salts and held them under her nose. Dakota lurched back in consciousness and immediately began to writhe in agony again. “No rest for the wicked” he said, resuming the numerous shallow cuts. Bailie dry wrenched.
“Stop. Stop. I’ll go with you. I promise, just let her go.” Bailie pleaded and became to cry.
“Too late now. I’ll ask you again once we’ve eaten. If you change your mind, we can always come back for more.” Randy continued to work as he spoke. The screams and the visual horror of everything rattled Bailie into shell shock. Not even the desperate pleas of her cousin could stop the enveloping numbness. “What the…?” Gredlar shook Bailie. Her head rocked back with his motion but then just slumped forward again. “I think she’s playing possum.”
“She’s gone into shock.” Randy calmly said as the scalpel scratched through the ligament attaching Dakota’s lower leg to her knee. “It’ll make her easier to get to the gathering.” The leg came loose apart from a few strands of skin. In one final cut Randy severed it loose. Dakota groaned and rocked her body, but still fearfully made eye contact with Randy. He waved the limb in front of her face. Her eyes bulged in horror. “Ok, we’ll cook this up, mend Dakota's wounds and then I’ve got to get Bailie on her way.”
“Can I come Randy?” Gredlar asked gently placing Bailie in the corner. Her limbs seemed to have lost all rigidity and she had a blank dazed look on her face.
“We’ve been over this Gredlar, the Society only takes winners. You’d have to make it on the field and win before they’d even let you through the door.” Randy began flaying the skin of the girl’s amputated leg, exposing the soft pink flesh.
“Damn this bitch is delicious.” Gredlar said eyeing Dakota. She was breathing slowly and deeply. Her writhing had slowed as the blood lose began to take effect.
A rhythmic beeping sounded from Randy’s blood soaked wrist watch. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to join you for this meal. By the time I stitch her up and get washed I’ll be due at the Lunch.”
Bailie sat motionless in the car. To a passing motorist she would appear to be dozing. Randy drove through the wrought iron gates up the paved driveway. A valet stood guard and approached the car as Randy parked. Randy handed him the keys and then went to the passenger’s seat to retrieve the shell shocked Bailie. He pulled her arm around his neck and took her feather weight. He began carrying her to the entrance. As he approached a tall gorgeous Latino woman in a blue evening dress with elbow high white gloves approached him.
“Randy, how are you, I thought you were going to keep me waiting.” It was subtle hint that Randy had kept her waiting.
“Gia, you looked stunning as always, this is Bailie my friend.” Randy placed his arm firmly around Bailie's waist and lifted her up.
“Randy? You haven’t drugged the poor dear have you?”
“No, she’s gone into shock. She was upset by some small matter.” Randy shock Bailie back so Gia could view her face. It worked.
Gia took graceful steps towards Bailie and stared deeply into her face, before placing a hand on her breast. “My, she is every bit as beautiful as you said she was. She’s going to be magnificent.” Gia felt Bailie’s stomach and glided her hands over her buttocks. “But we must hurry, Anton is waiting.” Gia turned and walked back in the front door. Randy followed carrying the helpless Bailie.
Gia walked through a foyer like it was a catwalk. Randy followed with haste. All three passed through double doors into a vast kitchen. It was Randy’s first time in the workings of the Society but his instincts were proof that he belonged. He lifted Bailie like groom carrying a bride and placed her on a metal bench. A mustached Frenchman appeared by Randy’s side and nodded in approval; he turned away and began preparing some oil. Without instruction two Japanese assistants appeared with scissors. Randy stepped back next to Gia. In perfect silence the Japanese assistants produced pairs of scissors and cut Dakota’s good dress from Bailie. Gia sighed as she saw Bailie's stark form.
“Exquisite.” She whispered to Randy.
Next the assistance took clothes a washed Bailie over. Anton the French chief whisked herbs into oil.
“I trust this will guarantee me my placement of choice when I finish this semester?” Randy softly and respectfully addressed Gia.
“Oh Randy, you’re a bright young Medical student.” She turned to him and smiled flirtatiously. “It would be criminal to hold you back.” She held his eyes for a second and then turned back to Bailie. “But this won’t do. The poor girl is so unresponsive; we simply have to wake her up.”
“I have smelling salts.” Randy offered.
“No, no. This needs a woman’s touch.” Gia placed her right gloved hand in her mouth and bit down on the fabric. The glove glided of. She hung it over her shoulder and walked toward Bailie. The two assistances finished, bowed their heads and back away. Gia ran her nails over the perfectly toned stomach of Bailie Walters. Bailie stared at the ceiling expressionless. As the chief began basting Bailie’s feet in the herb filled oil, Gia glided her hand down to Bailie’s vagina. Bailie gave a soft whimper as she was penetrated. Rhythmically Gia slid her long fingers in and out of the shaved, soft mound. There was no follow up whine or change at first but slowly, as the chief progressed to her calves and Gia intensified her touch, Bailie’s breathing increased. She began to faintly moan, her left arm twitched, and Anton took it as a signal to move on to her thighs. Bailie’s lower body gleamed with aromatic herbs and oils. Her head began to turn as Gia hastened even more. Bailie began to rock her head from side to side, her eyes closed, her stomach muscles contracted and her breath grew more intense. As Bailie started a violated road back to consciousness the two Japanese assistance came back into play, one either side holding her wrists down. As Bailie began to grind her knees together Randy grabbed her ankles. Through Gia’s even exhilarating finger work Anton basted on, his brush dabbing either side of Gia’s fingers, lubricating them. More moans came, followed by panting, Bailie’s strength was returning. As Randy and the two assistants braced themselves for her manageable strength Gia began to softly speak to Bailie. “Come back my dear, we need you to put on a good show.”
As Bailie’s eyes burst open her stomach shuddered and her thigh muscles contracted. Gia felt the soft pressure of Bailie’s orgasm around her fingers and giggled. Bailie gasped for air.
“Dakota. Dakota, I’m sorry.” She did not yell but pleaded to anyone who would listen.
Anton took her awakening as a sign to get his brace. It was a seven foot long metal shaft with cruciform extensions and carbon fiber straps. He clunked it down on the table next to Bailie who eyed it fearfully. In a single coordinated motion, Randy and the two assistants lifted Bailie while Anton slid the brace under her. When they lowered it she was fastened in place. It was only once secure that Bailie started to struggle. Anton resumed basting.
Frantically Bailie stared at the strangers before fixating her fearful gaze at Randy. “Randy, you’ll let Dakota go? You won’t hurt her no more?”
Gia looked at Randy, half curious for an explanation. Randy sighed and pulled two white gloves from his pocket and started putting them on. “I would if I could Bailie. It’s just Gredlar has needs. Once we’ve eaten all her limbs he’s going to keep her torso as a sex pet.”
Bailie sobbed. She didn’t know what that meant. “But you can’t, she’s pregnant.”
Randy finished putting on his gloves and sighed again. “Then in eight month we’ll both have fresh milk every morning.” Randy turned from Bailie towards the striking figure of Gia. “If you’ll excuse me Gia, I’d like to mingle before dinner.”
“Of course my boy.” Gia waved the back of her hand at him uninterested and turned to Anton. “How long till you’ll be finished?”
Anton began basting Bailie’s firm breasts but still managed to look up. “You may announce dinner in five minutes.”
“Wonderful, and you my dear” she took a step towards Bailie’s helpless form. “Scream, cry, beg; nothing is off limits for our meat. If you have something to say it’s the perfect time. You’ll be the centre of attention.” Gia rubbed the fingers she’d pleasure Bailie with over her mouth and began to place the long white glove on once more. She strutted out of the kitchen and Bailie was left alone with Anton and his silent assistants.
Five minutes to the second Gia surveyed the room filled with the most prestigious members of society. She grinned. Noble prize winners; fortune five-hundred members; and even a former President were dressed and wearing white gloved.
“Distinguished colleagues if I may have your attention.” She paused as the soft conversation died down. Everybody turned to face her. “May I present Ms. Bailie Walter’s, a treat from the South.” As she spoke she fanned her arm toward the kitchen. Anton’s two assistants emerged either end of the spit carrying the helpless Bailie. She sobbed softly, too fearful and confused to cry out for help. The audience applauded like they were at a golf tournament. The applause was joined by sighs of excitement made auditable by numbers. Bailie went rigid with terror and did not notice the two ornamental protrusions she was being carried towards. The assistants approached them to the side and lifted the spits ends till they rest either side, suspending Bailie about four feet above the floor. Bailie gorgeous young form, dress only in oil hung from the spit, belly down.
“Please. Please someone, anyone, help me.” Bailie looked from left to right desperately making eye contact. She was met only with hungry eyes, their appetite evil. “What do you want from me?”
“Said the truffle to the chief.” Gia exclaimed. Her comment was met with restrained, yet indulgent laughter. Bailie began to sob again; this only seemed to feed the energy in the room.
Anton now emerged from the kitchen carrying an ornamental piece of elongated metal. Its pattern was like lace and he walked with haste. As he approached Bailie he held it horizontally. In one smooth motion it clicked into place beneath her, casting an intricate shadow on the floor. Bailie watched in abject ignorance as Anton s flicked a switch and stepped back. Nothing happened, at least at first. The audience held their breath and waited.
A single drop of oil fell from Bailie’s right nipple onto the element. As helpless as she was she had nothing to do but watch the clear bead of oil. A trail of vapor rose from it and it shrunk and finally disappeared. Warmth drifted up to her naked body and it dawned on Bailie what the ornamental lattice was. It was the intricate element for an electric spit.
“No” she whispered. “No, please, no.” She pulled helplessly against the restraints, her struggling creating a murmur and excitement in the crowd. Unbeknownst to Bailie the frantic contraction against the restraints made her look even more beautiful. “Please, somebody, please don’t let them do this.” As she cried out Anton stepped in and turned a dial, the initial heat had just been to tease Bailie. A blast of intense hot energy enveloped Bailie’s delicate flawless skin. She cried out, not a scream, but with distressed. “You have to stop….. This isn’t right……No please don’t…………Mommy.” It was the final articulated plea Bailie would make. Not a request to stop, she knew the crowd wouldn’t help her. She cried out instinctively to her childhood protector as futile as her attempts to escape the embracing heat. She screamed know and Gia smiled, the signal to Anton to flick the next switch. As he did so Bailie began to rotate above the element, as one portion of her body escaped its un-ebbing lash another was exposed. Her perfect and petite body convulsed and the audience took in the aroma of the heating oil on her body knowing that soon the scent of cooking meat would mingle with it.
Now that the meat was committed to its fate the congregation began to interact with one another once more. Despite the influence of the gathering and the shared power of the Society, no matter seemed to important to stop and eager glance at the suffering meal. Several minutes into the cook, Anton stepped forward and applied more seasoned oil to Bailie. Her skin had turned golden brown from the heat and the stress of resisting the unavoidable heat had weakened her. Her loud moans were still intoxicating to the crowd though. Finished Anton stepped back to once again supervise her cooking. The sweet aroma of roasting flesh filled the hall and if she could have escaped the pain, Bailie would have known its pleasure.
Gia gently caressed the side of Bailie’s face. Bailie’s eyes fluttered opened and her face changed from and expressing of sleeping peace too dazed confusion. Bailie shifted her head. She could see a row of people sitting either side of her. Some looked at her hungrily other talked to their neighbors. From her laying position she looked up at the ceiling, Gia was still there, she had started combing her finger flirtatiously through Bailie’s hair.
“I’m so glad you survived. Anton really has turned his cooking into an art form. I hope you didn’t suffer, but I know that’s not the case.”
“What’s going on?” Bailie asked submissively. Her fatigue meant she couldn’t get a fix on her surroundings. “Are you going to let me go?”
Gia giggled sexually. “Try to move.”
Bailie tried. She couldn’t. “What’s happened to me?”
“Smell the air.” Gia waited for Bailie to take the scent of the air. “You’re cooked through my dear. You survived the spit, and you look and smell delicious.”
“Oh no.” Bailie’s face contorted in fear.
“Hush” Gia reassured her. “Your nerves a cooked through, you won’t feel a thing.” She lifted Bailie’s head and placed a silk cushion beneath it. Now elevated Bailie could see her bronzed glistening flesh. She let out a single gasp before Randy’s voice captured her attention.
“Distinguished colleges” he started. “We gather once again to enjoy what so few can enjoy. As provider of this delicate morsel the honor falls to me to carve her gentle flesh. I do so with a sense of gratitude and hope it is the first of many times.” Randy bowed his head humbly and was met with applause.
“You see” Gia spoke only to Bailie. “We’re going to eat you now.”
“No you can’t, I’m still alive.” Bailie whispered it frantically to Gia.
“Calm yourself my dear, if you like I can arrange for you to taste yourself?”
Bailie did not reply, she stare in horror at the carving knife and prong Randy now held in his hand. “Gia, as host you have your choice of cut.” Randy turned to Gia and waited for her response.
Gia smiled like a sultry mistress. Everybody at the table knew what she would ask for. “Her prime fillet for me Randy. I want to eat her sex.” Without hesitation Randy gently pushed the prong into Bailie’s still belly, just above her vagina.
“No.” Bailie whispered, mesmerized, as painlessly Randy began to cut it free. Steam drifted out of the wound and the glorious smell intensified. A plated was handed up the crowd. Clear juices seeped from the wound and other began ordering cuts. Bailie did not see Gia delicately cut of a slice of her flesh and chew it, but she did hear her sigh of pleasure at its taste. As Randy cut slice after slice of Bailie away from her the daze in her head grew even heavier and her damaged mind let go of consciousness.
Bailie’s eyes drifted open once more to the affectionate caress of Gia. Their eyes met. Bailie’s defeated and seeking peace; Gia’s with loving flirtation. This time Bailie’s breathing was labored and shallow. Gia immediately assessed this.
“You’re too damaged my dear, it won’t be long now.”
Bailie couldn’t respond. She helplessly looked into the eyes of her carnivore.
“Exhale deeply and go in peace my delicious little prey.” Gia spoke like a mother putting her child to rest. Bailie followed her instruction and exhale with all her energy. Breath spent, her body failed, and she slipped away amongst the chatter of dinner quests.
The White Glove Society: The Eros Autumn Estate.
By ninja5
Chapter 1.
The young Asian girl struggled, but the St Andrews Cross was made of old hard wood, and the leather straps were tight. She made muffled pleas through the ball gag and shook her head from side to side. Her jet black, shoulder length hair glistened is the daylight and her olive skin was flawless and smooth save the goose bumps from the autumn breeze.
Gia licked her lips as the slender belly twitched. The girl’s nipples were erect from the cold and their size was the finishing touch of the perfectly shaped breasts. Her arms and legs were as slender, but with enough muscle tone to tease the food-lover. The lips of her labia were pink and protruded the firm shaved mound that was her favorite cut of meat.
“You my dear” Gia said in a sultry voice, “are going to be very tasty.” She reached into a felt box on the patio table and removed a seven inch silver shard, similar to a sewing needle. The Asian girl’s sequel was muffled by her gag. “But first I think you need to suffer a little.” Gia strutted towards the terrified girl. She still wore the tennis uniform from the game she had played earlier in the day. The white singlet and short skirt clung to her glamorous frame. Even in tennis shoes she walked like she was in stilettos.
“Needle torture is a dying art.” She said gently stroking the girl’s right breast. She ran her finger tips over the tiny nipple before taking a firm grasp of the breast. “Now don’t disappoint me and pass out from the pain.”
The petite girl eyes crew wide with terror and the sharp point of the needle moved slowly towards the flesh of her breast. The tip made contact and the skin indented for a moment before giving way. As the point entered the breast by a millimeter and drop of blood formed at the puncture. Gia smiled, but as she reading to thrust the first of many wounds a voice came from behind.
“Mistress Gia!” Yelped the hastily approaching footsteps.
Gia stopped applying pressure and removed the cold needle from the fragile breast. She let out a sigh of frustration. Something she wouldn’t have done if she weren’t alone. Her victim did not count as company. The magic of her happy moment had been ruined. “What is it Gustavo?” She called back walking the needle back to its home of mahogany and red felt. She’d hoped to spend the afternoon with her dinner. Japanese girls suffered very well.
“Mistress Gia.” Came the voice again. And the stubby overweight figure of her Cellar-Keeper came running up the final steps into view clearly exhausted by the effort. “It’s the Head of the Russian Cabinet.” Gustavo hunched over and tried desperately to catch his breath. “He’s…” More panting.
Gia slowly took a deep breath not wanting to appear as if she was flustered. Gia knew she could never lose her grace in front of anyone who wasn’t about to become food. “When you can Gustavo.”
“He’s insisting he be allowed to have the US Senators daughter for dinner tonight.”
“And what does the Senator say about this?” Gia asked, hoping for a simple solution.
Gustavo had composed himself enough to relate the information. “He’s off with the hunting party. The Russian claims he won the girl fair and square in a chess game.”
“But obviously he could be lying.” Gia resigned to the fact she would not get to play with her food. “I will attend to the matter Gustavo. Please take this morsel to the kitchen, I will be their shortly to give instructions on her preparation.”
Gustavo nodded as Gia walked past him and down the stairs. As she neared the bottom, the commotion that should have been evident to her even on the balcony unfolded. Gia sighed. Lost in her moment of meditation with her victim she had allowed her awareness of her senses to be dulled.
“What seems to be the situation Gentlemen?” She address a pot-bellied balding man surrounded by FSB agents (Russian Secret Service) and one of her own Security Personnel, who was standing protectively in front of a young American girl in a bikini.
“Madam Gia”, the red faced politician addressed her, straighten his ruffled white suit. “I won the Senators daughter fairly last night.”
“In a chess game!” Gia calmly added. She needed to appear informed. “I have played the Senator at chess. He seldom loses.”
“He lost to me!” The Russian snapped. “And I want to have her now.”
Gia took a minute to survey the situation. The FSB agents either side of the Russian Cabinet leader looked poised to escalate the situation at any moment. Behind Tomas, her security guard, stood the young Senators daughter. She was an immaculate example of a Mid-Western beauty. Slightly dirty blond hair with flawless sun kissed skin. Her left breast was partially revealed as her left red bikini strap had been pulled down in the confrontation. Her mid-drift was toned and her tight abdomen pointed to a small mound hidden behind a flimsy bikini bottom. She was clearly very apprehensive of the situation, but from the expression on her face, her protective stance behind Tomas was just a means to draw attention to her plight. She turned to Gia, not panicked.
Gia admired the girls calm. The girl understood an authority was her only chance.
“This girl is not our usual indulgence. Surely you can understand that.” Gia said calmly turning to the Russians. “Without her father to confirm your story I don’t think I can let you take her to your quarters.”
“I want her now!” The Russian said eyes furious.
“What if I was able to offer you an alternative?” Gia said diplomatically. The Russian seemed to relax. It was a good sign for Gia. He was not fixated on this girl in particular. Perhaps he just wanted an American.
“I want one as pretty.” The Russian said and the FSB agents relaxed their stance.
“Of course.” Gia said.
“And the same age.” He added.
“Certainly. If she doesn’t need to be from a social standing, why not two.” Gia waved her hand as if it would be nothing.
The Russian did not say anything, he grunted, turned, and walked out of the courtyard. The FSB agents followed.
Gia turned to Tomas. “Thank you Tomas.”
Tomas nodded and walked away, knowing that Gia would attend to the young girl who looked around confused at how easily the situation had diffused itself since Gia’s arrival.
“T-thank you.” The girl chanced and lifted the red strapping of her bikini top.
Gia confidently walked forward and pulled it back down again, smiling at the girl hungrily. “Our business is not finished.” Gia addressed the girl.
The young Americans eyes bulged, and a fear she had not had with the Russian suddenly appeared as Gia run her finger over the girls collar bone. “W-what do you want?”
“If your father did in fact lose you in a bet, technically I just bought you from the Russian.”
“Oh!” The girls eyes widened and she looked apprehensively up at the taller Gia.
“You handled yourself very well. You knew to stay quiet. You knew to seek someone who could help you. The big question is, why would a pretty little thing like you wear that tiny bikini on an estate filled with people who eat beautiful women.”
“I-I-I was trying to….”
“Oh, no don’t tell me. I’d like to work it out.” Gia stepped back from the girl. “I think I should properly introduce myself. Gia stood straight and looked the girl directly in the eye. Her expression was friendly as if she’d forgotten the ominous situation of a minute ago. “My name is Gia Eros. That is not my birth name, but it is what I am known by. As I hope you know, I am the owner of this estate where the Society sometimes gathers to indulge themselves.” Gia extended her hand palm down as if she wanted the girl to kiss it.
Luckily the American girl’s father had taught her limitless etiquette. She took Gia hand gently, without shaking it and bowed her head; her knees bending slightly in a half curtsey. She then pulled the hanging strap of her bikini back on her shoulder.
Gia immediately reached over and pulled the strap so it hung down again. The girl realized she should not attempt to straighten her clothing again, scanty as it was.
The girl did not allow an awkward pause, she smiled apologetic and started, “My name is Cassandra Blake, but my friends call me Cassy. Since my mother died my father has become more active with The Society. Coming here was the only chance to spend time with him. He’s very busy with his re-election campaign.” The girl gave a formal introduction, though her tone was friendly.
Gia admired how quickly she composed herself. “Yes, we were quiet intrigued as to why he bought you along.” She studied the girl for any hidden motive she may be aware of and seeing none realized the girl was an innocent. “I saw you last night at the buffet. You did not eat any meat?” Gia posed the statement as a question.
“I was looking for someone.” The girl replied, avoiding the crux of the question.
“Who?” Gia replied intrigued.
“Just a man I’d seen in the courtyard yesterday morning.” The girl broke eye contact. “You have so many slaves…”
“I prefer to call them servants.” Gia corrected immediately.
“Forgive me.” Cassandra said and gave another little curtsy. “I want to know if I could…..”
Gia’s eyes lit up with delight. “You wanted to play with one of my servants.”
Cassandra dropped her eyes again.
“You must tell me which one. I would be so happy to introduce you to him.”
“I don’t know his name. He was well built; about six foot, two inches; and he had dirty blonde hair.”
As Cassandra finished a brief description Gia felt another pang of delight. “Oh, I know whom you mean. I’m afraid he’s not a servant.”
Cassandra’s face fell. “Oh, I’m sorry Mistress Eros.”
“Gia” she corrected. “His names Randy, but you’re in luck, he’s here doing some work for me during his University break; and I’d be very happy to introduce you to him.”
“Would that be Ok?” Cassandra asked and forgetting herself, went to pull her bikini strap back up.
Gia slapped her hand, but correctively, not aggressively. “Cassandra, he will simply adore you. And I can give you a tour of my stables.”
Cassandra mistakenly thought she was about to see horses.
Chapter 2.
Past the courtyard where the altercation had taken place a marble coble path curved through a rose garden. Cassy could feel the cold stones on her bare feet as she walked by Gia’s side.
“When did you become aware of your fathers involvement in the Society?” Gia asked brushing her hand against a rose as they walked.
“I guess he was always involved, since at least my Grandfather any way.” Cassandra was starting to fill the chill in the shade. “I always knew I should never speak of it.” She paused. “The servants at home who caught on all disappeared. Even the ones I liked.”
Gia thought back to Cassandra avoiding eating the meat the night before. “It can be a very heartless Society to be a part of. But great Leaders have been championed from friends who share in indulgent acts.” She paused. Three of the last four Presidents of the United States all relaxed themselves in the Society one way or another.”
Cassandra remained silent. They were drawing towards an old white brick building with terraces that looked like a Spanish Villa. The only resemblance to a stable was the heavy wooden doors shut tight at the paths end. The windows were covered in glass so thick you could not see objects on the other side, the kind used in bathrooms.
Gia walked to a panel at the side of the doors. “This will only take a moment.” She said and pressed five buttons on a keypad. There was an electronic beep and then a click. Gia joined Cassandra at the centre of the doors and with some effort pushed them exposing a long hallway with many rooms coming of either side. At the end of the polished floor hallway was a small opening. Suspended by chains from the high ceiling in the centre of the open a skinny woman hung. Cassandra couldn’t make her out beyond matted hair and shiny skin, but the wails of distress at their presence indicated she was gagged; and expecting the worst.
“Please ignore Rosalita. She’s part way through an extremely long termination of employment.” Gia said and Cassandra gave quizzical look which made Gia feel oblige to explain. “An undercover reporter, who worked for one of our high end members and found out about us.”
“I see.” Cassandra replied.
“We torture her as much as we can without her losing her mind. She thinks I’m here for another session.”
They walked the doors that lined the hall. The doors had no handles, just keypads with a red light eluminated. Gia checked each door until halfway to the open area where Rosalita hung she chanced upon a door with a green light.
“Who’s in all these rooms?” Cassy asked.
Gia turned and smiled as she reached for a button next to an intercom speaker. “My breeding cattle.” She pressed the intercom bottom and waited.
After a short pause a confident man’s voice came through. “Yes?”
“Randy its Gia. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Gia said.
“No problem, I’ve nearly finished with this one. I’ll be out in”, there was a pause “twenty minutes.”
“Take your time. If she doesn’t get pregnant this time I’m giving up on her.” Gia released the button and walked towards the opening at the end of the cell doors where Rosalita dangled. “Come Cassandra, there are refreshments at the end of the hall.”
The plush stables opened out into a circular room. Sofa’s divided the room into quarters and each one faced a different type of entertainment. There was a movie screen, a bar, a hotub and exercise equipment in each of the corners. Rosalita remained the centre piece however.
Cassy could now get a good look at her. She was a starved beauty, her ribs showing and once elegant slender legs reduced to waif joints. Her face, contorted and sobbing still held attraction. Bruises; pinpricks and scares from sharp cuts covered her body.
Gia noticed Cassandra’s fascination. “We were going to slowly cook her, but the sight of her punishment keeps my cattle in line when I let them out to play.
“How many cattle do you keep?” Cassandra asked, knowing how very important it was not to appear shocked by this news.
“There’s the diary; 18 girls. The servant quarters; a staff of 27, I only count females. And this, the breeding stable;……”
“Ten rooms with red lights. One room with a green light and one room with no light on at all. Eleven breeding stock with room for one more.” Cassandra finished for her. She wanted to show she was paying attention, but also it kept her mind of Rosalita who was staring at her in desperation.
“Very observant.” Gia smiled and gestured for Cassandra to take a seat facing the bar. “The number in the abattoir varies almost every day when we have quests.” She walked to the bar herself and pulled out three glasses. In one she poured a beer from the tap, before starting to make an elaborate cocktail for the other glasses. Cassandra tried to pay attention but Rosalita was staring straight at her and whimpering.
It was making Cassandra very uncomfortable.
As if in answer to an unasked question Gia spoke up. “She’s going to keep trying to get you to feel sorry for her unless you hurt her.”
“What?!” Cassandra replied.
“In the draw of the coffee table there’s a surgical kit. Take one of the instruments and hurt her.” Gia said. This brought a frantic squeal from Rosalita who began twisting her bound legs as if to try and turn away from Cassandra.
Cassandra felt a flush. At the back of her mind she knew that this woman might very well own her. She did not want to displease her. She opened and reached into the draw and pulled out a leather satchel. It rolled open revealing a surgical kit equip if scalpels and hooks. Hands shaking Cassandra reached for a sharp stemmed hook, used for holding back tissue layers during operations. She clutched it in her hand and slowly walked towards Rosalita.
Rosalita’s expression changed to terror and a rhythmic moan came through the gag. Cassandra could tell she was saying “No” over and over again. The muffled plea relieved some of the pressure. Cassandra, under Gia’s direction, was in control of the situation. With her free hand Cassandra spread open Rosalita’s labia and slowly bought the hood towards the clitoral hood.
Rosalita’s moans became whimpers. Cassandra’s brow started to sweet. She’d never done anything like this before. The sharp prick of the tiny hook caught on the clitoris and with a little bit of pressure, and a squeal of agony from Rosalita, Cassandra pierced her sensitive button. Cassandra found herself out of breath. She was about to let go of the handle from nerves, but as Gia began breaking up ice with an ice pick she said “Make her know you’re her mistress. I want her to scream again.”
Cassandra pulled on the handle. Ruby red droplets of blood ran down Rosalita’s leg as Cassandra twisted and tugged on the hook. Flushed and dizzy she chanced a look up, and seeing the look in her victims eyes, realized she had become a mistress.
“Enough” Gia said calmly and walked towards Cassandra with two cocktails. The beer still stood on the bar. “Pack up and talk to me, Randy will be here shortly.”
Carefully Cassandra slid the hook out, like releasing a fish. She carried the tool back to the satchel and put it away in the draw.
As Gia handed Cassandra the cocktail she said to the room, “Rosalita. If you absolutely quiet whilst we talk you will be spared any further discomfort.”
Rosalita went limp.
Cassandra took the cocktail, held it for a moment, and then the pair saluted each other. Cassandra was the first to take a sip.
Gia kissed her glass and leaned forward. “I’m starting to like you Cassandra. In a way, I hope it works out that I do own you.”
Cassandra’s eyes bulged at the sudden reminder. She took a hesitant look at Gia, who was smiling as a friend.
Her fate bought back with a reminder was the perfect time for Randy to appear. He wore tight blue jeans, unzipped and unbuttoned; an unbuttoned shirt and carried a pair a brown leather shoes in his hand. He felt no shame at exposing his sex. He turned and smiled at the woman. Gia was unaffected by his confidence and athletes build, but Cassandra flushed. He walked straight to the bar and picked up the beer. He lifted it to Gia and took a sip before walking over to the pair.
Gia did not say a word, not even offer an introduction. The two’s meeting was something she had wanted to see.
Randy sensed the expectation, whilst Cassandra was very much exhausted from trying to keep her wits since the Russian had tried to take her. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep her emotions in check.
Gia and Cassandra, still in her bikini (still one strap hanging down) sat facing each other. When Randy sat he sat he sat directly behind Cassandra and then shuffled up so his chiseled abdomen was in contact with Cassandra’s delicate back.
Randy knew how to please Gia.
Though she had wanted to meet Randy; had hoped he was a servant of the Estate; the sudden nature of the physicality of their first true meeting made her nerves show.
Gia allowed herself a smile of satisfaction. Beautiful girls can give pleasure in so many ways.
Cassandra forgot the lessons of her encounters and pulled her bikini strap up. Randy, with his beer free hand, pulled it down; and then pulled the strap of the other shoulder.
Cassandra suddenly realized her father was away, and both these people may want to eat her.
“Randy.” Gia said, finally breaking the tension. “This is my new friend Cassandra. I think you should call her Cassy.”
Randy realized the word friend meant she wasn’t on the menu and stopped tracing his finger over Cassandra’s shoulder. One at a time, he placed both bikini straps back on Cassandra’s shoulders.
“Hello Cassy”, Randy said. “What in heavens are you doing wearing that here?”
“I…..” Cassandra started.
“She was trying to catch your eye and got into a little bit of trouble. The Russian claims he won her in a chess game. We’re waiting for her father to get back to confirm her story. If it’s true, then I’ve traded the Russian for her.”
Randy, much more sensitive as he gauged Gia’s interest in the girl delicately said, “I’m afraid I was in the drawing room last night. The Russian did beat the Senator.”
“But that doesn’t mean…..” Cassandra said startled.
Randy braced her body with his. “It gets worse I’m afraid. The Senator isn’t on the hunt. He left last night.” As he finished Cassandra’s head bolted around in alarm. “I guess he didn’t have the nerve to tell you.”
“Oh dear.” Gia said. And the cogs of her mind began turning.
“He wouldn’t….. My father…… I have friends, I’ll be missed.”
Randy saw that Gia was not toying with the girl and knew she would not become a banquet for the Society. He gently put his arms around her. “It’s Ok.” He said.
Cassandra’s emotions were frayed. “You’re going to eat me. You’re going to eat me.” She started saying over again. She tried to worm free of Randy’s embrace but her lithe form was no match for his muscle.
Gia put her cocktail down and stood deep in thought.
“Let me go.” Cassandra said to Randy.
“Stay calm.” Randy insisted. He was every bit Gia’s loyal dog.
“No, please, let me go.” Cassandra yelled.
Gia strode over and without restraint slapped Cassandra across the face. With firm eyes she stared down at the stunned Cassandra. “We never lose our cool. Do you understand me? Act like prey and you’ll get eaten. Do you understand?”
Cassandra relaxed surrounded by Randy’s firm grasp. “Yes Mistress Gia.” She said, recomposing herself.
Gia took a calming slow inhale and said, “Your father is getting ready to fake your death no doubt. I will call him and tell him not to. You two finish your drinks, get changed and meet me in my private dining room. Randy will show you the way. We’re having the most delightful Japanese girl for dinner tonight.” Gia put her drink down and walked down the long hall. As she did so Randy stood and straightened his clothing, taking another sip of his beer as he finished.
“What’s going to happen to me?” Cassandra asked. Randy was not a source she could trust, but she was desperate for any information on her new status of “OWNED”.
“Can’t say.” Randy said eyeing her hungrily. “She doesn’t want your father to fake your death so I’d say you won’t be ending up on the dinner table just yet.”
“Just yet?” Another question.
“Look, she seems to like you. That’s better than most even get close to.” Randy said, extending his hand to escort Cassandra out of the stable.
“She seems to like you too.” Cassandra said.
Randy gave her a cold look. “I thought you were sharper than that. Gia hates all men. She just knows how to make us happy, and we make her very powerful.” Randy put his arm around Cassandra’s waist. Come on Cassy. I’ll help you pick out a dress for this evening.”
Chapter 3.
Randy confidently followed Cassandra into her private suite. Cassandra was beginning to suspect Randy was shadowing her, in case she tried to flee. If that were the case this situation had arisen before for the procedure to take place without verbal instruction. Randy closed the door behind them. The click of the latch brought goose bumps to Cassandra’s exposed skin. The only thing stranger than her situation was the tid-bits of advice people had given her. It was starting to become clear that if she followed a certain etiquette things may actually turn out for the best.
She turned to face Randy and stared at him a moment too long.
“Relax.” He said, keeping his distance. “Show me your evening dresses.”
Cassandra went to her suites closet but already was apprehensive. Last night they had eaten outside and she had decided to wear her red dress then instead of the more suitable floral dress. The only one she had left. Her father had only planned for them to stay two nights.
“That won’t do.” Randy said looking at it, as she bought it out. “And you say you wore the Red one last night?”
“Yes.” Cassandra had a quizzical look on her face that masked her panic. Her life could rely on this dinner and she had nothing to wear.
Randy smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ve got an idea.” Randy walked towards the side of the bed and picked up the telephone. He dialed “0” and waited. Muffled voices came from the other end. “This is Randy; I’m in Cassandra Blake’s Suite. Could you please send the Housekeeper immediately?” Another pause. “Thank you.” Randy hung up the phone.
Cassandra was feeling pressure from the silence, and the walls of the spacious suite were slowly getting smaller.
Randy showed no discomfort.
Cassandra thought back to Rosalita. The only time since her father had left that she had felt in control.
A knock came at the door. Randy went to open it. “Lilianna, how are you?” Randy said as a statuesque woman who was clearly of mixed nationality. She was five foot eight, had silky hair held up by chopstick like needles and exotic face. Her limbs were long and graceful. As if to point out the question of her nationality Randy said, “Dutch and Indonesian?”
“You just said Indonesian because of my eyes and skin tone.” She smiled at Randy as if they were friends. But her body language hinted that there was some animosity between the two. She turned to Cassandra. “Good evening Miss Blake. How may I be of service?”
“Korean and German?” Randy interrupted.
Lilianna did not answer, she just shook her head. “That’s seven out of ten Randy.”
Cassandra stared baffled.
Lilianna, the servant, offer an explanation. “Mistress Eros made an agreement with our friend Randy here. He has ten guesses to get my heritage correct. If he wins, he gets me.”
Cassandra took her eyes of Lilianna and looked at Randy. His eyes mapped the black cocktail dress she wore, peering at the flesh of her legs from the high skirt line; and the interwoven lace that covered her breasts.
Lilianna took a stab at Randy. “You would think being allowed to impregnate the stables breeders would give him some idea of genealogy.”
“Keep talking Lilianna. I’ll get you one day.”
“Randy, I’m very busy. Why did you call me here?” Lilianna suddenly became about business.
“Cassandra needs a dress suitable for dining with Gia.” Randy turned his attention back to Cassandra, still trapped in her bikini.
“What’s your relationship with Gia, Cassandra?” Lilianna asked Cassandra.
“She just took ownership of me.” Cassandra said, trying to sound confident, but it did come out as a whimper.
Lilianna’s eyes grew wide and falsely sympathetic. “Oh dear.” She said. Then followed with, “Gia owns a lot of people.” Her face took a formal composition. “What I mean is; does she like you; are you to be a servant; a pet; or tomorrow nights dinner.” She paused. “Will you be intact at the evenings end?”
Cassandra took a long deep breath. “Forgive my ignorance. I have not known Gia long.” She turned to Randy. “Perhaps Randy could help answer.”
Randy stepped behind Lilianna and placed both his hands on her hips. As his fingers arced down to feel Lilianna’s sex the Housekeeper elbowed him hard in the stomach. It did not hurt Randy, but made him serious.
“Cassy is a sweet little thing. Gia seems to have an interest in her other than food or pet. I don’t think even Gia knows what she is going to do with her. She picked her up to solve a problem with some Russian.”
“I see.” Lilianna smiled friendlily at Cassandra. “You need to make an impression.” Lilianna walked towards Cassandra and quickly looked her up and down, taking in her measurements. “Shower. Style your hair like you want to attract a gentleman and……. Shave your female parts.” Lilianna smiled at Randy.
Cassandra realized she was doing it to distract the shocked look on her face. It seemed that potentially having the approval of Gia meant a lot individuals exposed to depraved acts felt the need to protect her.
Lilianna turned to leave the room. “I will find you the perfect dress.” She circled around Randy to the exit.
As she past Randy he said “Malaysian and French?”
There was a stutter in Lilianna’s step. “She turned “No.” She said. “And that’s only two guesses left.”
“But one of the last two was right, wasn’t it?” Randy had a cruel smile on his face.
“But which one Randy?” Lilianna opened the door and stood there. “Come Randy, we should leave her alone to get ready.”
“But…” Randy disputed.
“We can lock her in.” Lilianna said casually and then turned and bowed to Cassandra.
Randy followed Lilianna out of the room and as the door shut there was a double click. Cassandra allowed herself a moment of panic. Firstly she thought about how she had wanted to impress Randy earlier in the day. He was starting to seem like an enforcer. Then she thought about Gia saving her, but for some purpose she would have to audition for tonight. Finally she thought of Lilianna who performed her duties as Randy attempted to get her on a diner plate. She liked the Society so much more when it was just about eating people you didn’t know.
Chapter 4.
Alone in the shower Cassandra allowed the tears to blend with the jets of hot water. As instructed she shaved her pubic hair so her vagina was smooth like a prepubescent girls. She ran the raiser of other parts of her body and used the shower gel and conditioner on hand. As she turned off the water the tears stopped. She would deal with her feelings about her father and her apparent slavery when her predicament was less dire.
After dapping herself dry she wrapped the towel around herself and walked out into the bedroom of the suite. She was startled by a girl her around own age standing mute and motionless. Cassandra immediately guessed she was a maid from the French maids’ uniform she wore. The hem of her skirt was so high she could see her black lace knickers.
The maid curtseyed and gestured to a black dress on the bed. There had been activity in her room whilst she showered. “Thank you” Cassandra said politely.
“May I help you with your hair?” The girl offered dutifully.
“Yes.” Cassandra was again receiving help from strangers. “What do you think Mistress Gia would like.”
The Maid, a petite blonde who looked younger than her years examined Cassandra’s hair from a far. “Mistress Gia has been fascinated with a show called ‘Made Men’ of late. Perhaps I could style your hair after one of the shows heroines.”
Cassandra smiled approvingly, she wondered if she was acting superior to a Maid who may be carrying her off to the kitchen tomorrow. “That sounds like wonderful advice…….” Cassandra left a pause for the girl to introduce herself. A look of horror came over the Maids face and Cassandra correctly guessed anonymity may keep some people owned by the Society off the menu. Cassandra saw this as a chance to be vulnerable. “You don’t have to tell me your name, but if you help me and things go well tonight, perhaps I can help you.”
The apprehension in the Maids face left and she curtseyed again. “My name is Anetta.” She paused. “You should get into your dress before I do your hair.”
Cassandra unwrapped the towel and put reached for the black dress. It was a cocktail gown similar to the one Lilianna had been wearing. However, instead of laze cover her breast the strapless gown had a V between her breasts. It also came away at the side revealing the natural fall of her breasts. Cassandra reached into a draw for a pair of panties.
Anetta coughed to interrupt the action. “Gia may expect you to be a lover tonight; ready to be taken.” Anetta nodded to the draw. “They slow things down. Ruin her moment.”
“Thank you.” Cassandra said, realizing she would be in nothing but the dress and the pair of stilettos at the base of her bed.
As she stepped into the dress Anetta said, “You a very beautiful. I do not think they would consume you trivially, and most of the estates guests have left.”
Cassandra took some comfort in this. Her earlier assurances that Gia would prevent her father from faking her death also comforted her. She was almost certain she would not soon be made a meal. But was unsure of exactly what her fate would be.
Once in the dress Cassandra sat and Anetta went to work with a hairdryer; crimpers; and spray and created the style of a 1950’s bombshell. Cassandra let Anetta alone at apply makeup and she was gentle in the quantity of application, allowing Cassandra to appear natural save blood red lips.
“Thank you Anetta.” Cassandra said.
Anetta curtseyed and walked to the phone. She dialed 0 and waited. She did not speak into the phone but simply hung it up and without ceremony left Cassandra alone with her reflection. The door making an automatic double click once closed.
Not more than a minute since the Maids departure a knock came on the door.
“Come in.” Cassandra said her appearance adding confidence.
Lilianna entered the room. Her eyes glance Cassandra up and down and took a definite disapproval. Cassandra knew that she looked as well as any girl had at a Society dinner, and correctly guessed the disapproval was for looking too good. No doubt Anetta would pay for the pride she had taken in her work. But Cassandra could not think of Anetta, she needed to impress Gia.
“The table is set. Mistress Eros and Randy wait in the lounge for your company.” Lilianna gestured out of the room like a flight attendant telling passengers to disembark. “Please come this way.”
Lilianna walked in front, she had the same stride as Gia. A thought occurred to Cassandra: Had Gia and Lilianna both been instructed by the same person. There body language was so similar despite Lilianna being younger. Cassandra did not try to imitate it, but replied on the step she had learnt for taking the stages at the various types dance tournaments her father had entered her in. In the stiletto’s, she was grateful for the brief period of ballet.
The pair entered a lavish dining room lit by candles and an open fireplace. Gia and Randy both stilled their conversation as they saw Cassandra. Randy looked unsettled, clearly taken by surprise the apprehensive girl in the bikini had taken such a dramatic look. But much to Cassandra’s ease of mind, Gia looked very approving.
“Take a look at her Randy”, she said to the muted man. “Begins her day exposed in a carnivores den; and then steals the spotlight at the royal table.” She clapped her hands threw the elbow length white gloves she wore. “Admit it Randy, she doesn’t look like the prey you get anymore.”
Randy, also wearing white gloves still remained silent.
Cassandra curtseyed. Gia gestured to a seat on the right of the head of the table. There were only three seats along the long table that already had the evening meal laid out……..
Cassandra did not allow herself a moment of hesitation as she walked to the table with a very much alive Japanese girl strapped belly up on a silver platter. She was looking around the room frantically, tears rolling down her checks. As Cassandra took her seat she surveyed, as if to admire, the girls plight.
A rich aroma came from cooked meat. The girls’ legs had been roasted up to and including her waist, but her belly; breast and arms remained raw. She whimpered constantly through a thick gag, obviously in tremendous pain. Cassandra understood exactly what would happen. The servant would carve succulent flesh from her thighs and calves and they would eat the girl alive as she watched.
Cassandra had always avoided the meat at the Society diners, but tonight she had no choice.
The servants appeared and one collected Cassandra’s plate whilst another produced a carving knife and fork and awaited instructions of where to cut. Cassandra knew that Gia always ate the dinners sex, so she paused as if contemplating her choice. “Thigh please.” She said, and forced herself to watch as the fork slid into the girls’ leg without friction. The girls’ natural juices seeped through the bronzed flesh as it was perforated. There would have been no nerves left in the cooked legs, but the visual horror of seeing herself carved caused terrible distress for their dinner. Cassandra noticed Gia stroking the side of the girls face. Her suffering was bringing Gia great satisfaction.
Roast potatoes and greens in cream sauce were also added to Cassandra’s plate before it was returned.
When they took Randy’s plate he said, “Meat only. Thigh; and the souls of her feet.”
Cassandra hoped she had delivered enough of a performance to turn from the spectacle. She turned to Gia. “Have you spoken to my father?” She asked.
“I would be annoyed of you asking before we had finished eating, but I understand your position.” Gia let their dinners tears soak into her white gloves and then traced the moisture over her own cheek. “Yes I spoke to him. He’d hoped your demise would create sympathy for him at the polls.” As she finished speaking she lifted her eyes and studied Cassandra deeply for a reaction. “It would appear he lost the chess game on purpose.”
Cassandra looked away for a second and followed the servants as they bought Randy his plate of the tormented girl. She then stared deeply at the Japanese girl with a coldness to give her no hope, before returning her gaze at Gia. “One must make the best of any situation Mistress.”
Gia smiled. “Confident submission.” Gia leant back for the servant to take her plate. They did not need to ask what meat to cut for her. “I think you’ve realized you’ve been caught up in a bit of a game.” Gia narrowed her eyes on Cassandra as her plate with the harvested sex of diner sitting isolated on the plate. “Let’s eat. You can have this last meal at least.”
As the trio picked up their cutlery to begin eating, Cassandra realizes she was the only one with vegetables on her plate. She paused as Randy started cutting. Gia gave one last caress of the meals check and lifted her knife to the delicate slit in front of her. Cassandra’s pause had been noticed.
“Something wrong” Lilianna’s voice came from behind. As housekeeper she was there to oversee the service of the meal.
Cassandra appears surprised. “Why no, of course not”, and with no further delay cut into the meat and brought a piece to her blood painted lips. As the flavor hit her senses, Cassandra stared into the
Japanese girls desperate eyes and felt the same control she’d had over the pain slave Rosalita. Eating the rest of the meat was not a problem. Her only question was whether or not to ask for more.
Cassandra decided the vegetables were a test, but to be polite she chopped them up with her and fork and sampled each. As she chanced a look behind her Lilianna’s slightly annoyed complacency behind her, she decided she had done the right thing.
The moment came when all three had finished their meals. Gia took a sip of red wine, and turned to Cassandra. “I like you Cassy. I have come up with two solution to the problem of” she paused, “you.”
Cassandra felt her heart race though she took steady breaths. She prayed she would not blush or begin to sweet.
“You are intelligent; well educated; and very beautiful. Besides from your little outburst at the stables you have handled yourself very well given the situation.”
Cassandra feared a lengthy delay in the revelation of the options of her fate. Another game of torment from Gia.
However Gia was true to her word, she liked Cassandra. “You can either occupy the vacant stall in my breeding stable, or you can take on an internship of sorts at this estate.”
The stable position was self evident, but Cassandra knew there would be a catch to the internship. “What does the internship entail?”
“Some light duties around the estate. We will have to enroll you in a university; if you represent me your education must continue. A healthy social life with travel; friends; a rich life to amuse us through stories.” Gia had only listed the positives. She reached over with her gloved hand and clasped Cassandra’s. “But the time would come when we would destroy all that for our pleasure.” Gia did not specify how.
Cassandra guessed that Gia could use her as currency is she chose that option.
“Our breeding stock is very well cared for.” Gia recommended. “They live longer than most women in the Society.
Randy who had been mute suddenly voiced up. “Malaysian and Dutch?” It was another guess at Lilianna’s heritage. Both Gia and Cassandra turned to Lilianna still standing dutifully at the room’s edge.
Lilianna shook her head signaling no.
“Malaysian and German?” He guessed again.
“No.” Lilianna smiled. “That’s all ten guesses Randy.”
As if forgetting the options presented to Cassandra, Gia smiled and was court up in the distraction. Cassandra looked at Randy. He winked at her. Cassandra was not sure if he was buying her time to think or looking forward to impregnating her at the breeding stable. His relaxed expression made her think it was the former, and as terrible as he was, he could also possibly be a friend of sorts.
“Well you’re off the hook Lilianna. I knew he wouldn’t guess it.” Gia dipped her head to her loyal servant.
Lilianna had a look of satisfaction and slight smile on her dutiful face.
“Might I guess?” Cassandra asked.
Gia, Randy and Lilianna all turned to stare at Cassandra. “Such baldness and she hasn’t even decided her fate.” Gia said, still holding her hand. “I will give you one guess. The same rules apply; get it right and I will give you Lilianna. You can do whatever you please with her.”
Lilianna gave Cassandra a pompous look. Cassandra had already decided Lilianna did not have her best interests at heart. “Well the trick to her heritage is in the difficulty of the answer, and Randy already guessed one. Lilianna is part Asian, but tall, so naturally she is a traditionally short Asian with a tall European parent.” Cassandra allowed herself a sultry smile. “I would guess Cambodian-French”.
A look of terror came over Lilianna’s face.
“What!” Randy exclaimed in frustration.
“Bravo.” Gia said cautiously, obviously tested by losing her housekeeper.
“Forgive me Gia” Cassandra said, immediately turning to her. “I would not dream of taking her away from her duties, but perhaps we should add subservience to me as one of them.”
Gia smiled at the diplomacy. “So you wish the internship. Very well.” Gia relaxed back in her chair. “I know the stables didn’t sound appealing, but in time you may wish you’d taken it.” Gia rose. “Take a moment with Lilianna and then have her lead you to my quarters, you will be spending the night there.”
Cassandra held her breath not to blush and bowed her head.
“Good night Randy.” Gia said leaving the table behind.
Randy sat sulking for a moment, rose, and dipped his head to Cassandra as a sign of good night.
Cassandra sat in her chair for a moment staring at Lilianna, who was still for a moment, but the waiting eventually broke her composition and her eyes flickered from a neutral gaze of the room to Cassandra. Cassandra smiled and walked towards her newly won slave.
“You’re on my side now Lilianna.” Cassandra said and glided her index finger over the nap of the beauties neck. “If something bad happens to me I’ll make sure it comes to you double. Do you understand?”
Lilianna nodded, pursed lipped.
“There was a maid, Anetta. Have her placed as my personnel servant; and I won’t no punishment to be given to her without my say-so. If it happens, it’ll be on your head. Do you understand?” Cassandra tone was toyful like Gia’s. Imitation would create familiarity and express the seriousness Cassandra desired.
“Yes Mistress Blake.”
Cassandra changed her expression to friendly. “Now, please show to Mistress Eros’ room.”
Lilianna clicked her fingers for the staff to clear the table and began walking. Cassandra knew, the servants would cook the rest of the Japanese girl for themselves, but she no longer cared for the fate of such trivial victims. Lilianna strutted in front of her through a maze of corridors and cigar rooms. Cassandra admired her stride now, it was something she possessed. The pair came to a set of double doors and Lilianna opened them exposing a spacious bedroom with king-size bed. Gia stood off to the side naked, her flawless olive skin contain her gorgeous figure. Cassandra entered as Lilianna hung back.
“Thank you Lilianna. Please wait outside for an hour to assure we don’t need anything.” Gia spoke and Lilianna closed the doors sealing Cassandra in. Gia look at the youthful Cassandra, “Aren’t you a little overdressed.”
Cassandra reached around behind and fumbled for the zipper. Finding it she slid it down and the gown dropped away from her body and fell to hips. She pulled the tight fabric past them and the gown dropped to the floor. As Cassandra stepped out of the dress, she also stepped out of the stilettos and stood before Gia exposed.
Gia beckoned her with a finger and a hungry look, but as Cassandra walked forward to be taken, Gia stepped back to towards a curtain. As she drew closer to her Mistress the curtain was pulled back, revealing not a window, but a St Andrews cross with leather straps at four ends.
Cassandra flushed and faltered in her steps. Gia signaled for her to come closer with her finger again. Cassandra, a little fearful, obeyed. As she came within touching distance Gia reached out and took her wrists, placing them out in the X of the cross. One by one she strapped them in. Gia placed her hand on Cassandra’s breasts and tested the soft flesh. Cassandra shuddered, which made Gia smile. Gia ran her hands down Cassandra’s sides and over her flat belly, past her hips and down each leg. Her ankles were strapped in. As Gia rose back up she paused at Cassandra’s sex.
Cassandra felt Gia tongue glide over her labia; tasting her.
“You were very bold to take ownership of my housekeeper.” Gia said rising above Cassandra. “And this morning, when I saved you from your dilemma you interrupted me playing with my food.” Gia face was stern. “To keep Lilianna happy and to make amends I think I shall show you my hobby.” Gia reached out to a mahogany box; opened it; and pulled a long silver needle out.
She did not have to explain its purpose to Cassandra.
“You’re internship begins now. Please scream for Lilianna’s benefit.”
Prologue.
As Gia unstrapped Cassandra’s wrists she slumped to the floor, her body exhausted.
“Come one Cassy, it’s over for now.” Gia said helping the girl to her feet. She began directing the wrecked girl to the bed, but walking for Cassandra was difficult; the soles of her feet had not been spared the needles point. Gia raised her up and laid her on the bed. Cassandra’s body twitched as the nerves Gia had struck precise still screamed out. Gia rolled her into a fetal position and lay around her spooning her.
Through the tortures Cassandra had not broken and begged, and so survived the first night of her internship. Gia pulled the silk sheets up over their bodies and snuggled into her intern’s warmth.
“I told you the breeding pens weren’t such a bad option.” Gia whispered. Tomorrow we will discuss your future. You are not permitted to discuss what happens in this room.” Gia said and waited.
Cassandra’s mind had hit the wall. Not knowing what to say she remained silent.
As if from familiarity Gia seemed to know how Cassandra felt. “There will also be pleasure Cassandra. When I had a Master in the Society I endured much. One day you may graduate from me and escape the burdens….. but in the mean time, we need to work on your endurance.”
The White Glove Society 3: A House Keepers Duties.
By ninja5
Chapter 1.
Lilianna wore a winter dress with a brown leather apron and leather boots. It was the kind of outfit one might find on any German barmaid. Her exotic Euro-Asian features were polished by immaculate grooming. Her hair, worn in a bun, had not a strand out of place. Her makeup was minimal and of natural colors. The owner of the Estate had vacated as winter set in, but the household and its hobby-farm still had to be maintained. Composed in her duty, she signaled for Tomas to do his task.
A scream filled the barn.
Lilianna traced the edges of the newly seared brand. The new cow screamed and struggled against the stock. The other seven cows in the row grew uneasy, the resistance of the newest member of cattle stirring some faint and repressed memory. After satisfying herself that the brand would mark the woman’s new ownership perfectly Lilianna gave the cow a slap on the buttock and nodded to the faithful Tomas, who stood ready to brand the woman again if the mark wasn’t up to perfection.
The other cattle stirred.
Lilianna walked around as Tomas, his duties finished, quietly left the cows to be milked.
The new cow’s screams had eased. She was begging again. “Please don’t hurt me anymore.” The cow said through sobs.
“Hush” Lilianna said coming around to the shackled cows head. “You’re upsetting the others.”
The cow was helpless in the metal stocks. Apart from the soft padding around her wrists and neck it was like something out of a medieval village. Her ankles were restrained by shackles to prevent her from kicking back. The busty blonde was hunched over, knees slightly bent, her large breasts (the reason for her newly discovered captivity) hung but still maintain a pleasing shape. Lilianna hummed to herself as she examined them. As she reached past the cows beautiful round Californian face for them the cow panic.
“What are you doing?” She feared more pain like the branding.
“Just testing.” Lilianna clasped one the cow’s nipples between her finger and thumbs.
The cow sobbed. “Please.”
Lilianna pinched it and pulled down. Milk came from pours in fine jets.
“Why are you doing this?” The cow exclaimed; confused; distress; desperate.
Lilianna released her fingers and grabbed the new cow’s short blond hair. She yanked the head back and knelt down so they were at eye contact. “You’re a cow now, just like these other cows.” Lilianna forced her head to look down the line of stocks at the seven other cows. Their placid faces had the traces of beauty, and their large bosoms hung defeated attached to pumps. Their milk was being harvested by tubes that led into ticking boxes atop large glass jars.
The ticking of the pumps was not the only noise the scared new cow heard. A symphony of a muffled humming came from the room. Each cow had a vibrator inserted and strapped in by a belt. The cow furthest from Lilianna huffed and sighed reaching orgasm, then became placid again, her eyes vacant.
“You have a sense of victimization now, but you’ll lose it soon.” Lilianna rose a slapped the cow on the face gently. She strode to the new cows vibrator sitting on a shelf. Switched it on, and without ceremony inserted it into the exposed rear of the crying cow. The new cow gasped at the flood of unwelcome pleasure. “We only take it out to change the batteries.” Lilianna said in passing. “You’ll be cleaned in these stocks. You’ll be fed in these stocks.” Lilianna collected the milking apparatus and came around front to attach it. “And, you’ll be milked in these stocks”
“Please. I’ll do anything you want.” The woman voice was sincere. Lilianna could have extracted any kind of decadence she wanted from this woman, barely in her twenties.
Lilianna attached the tubes over the breasts. The suction took hold and the creamy white liquid ran down the tubes. As if in comfort Lilianna took her last humanizing look at the new cow. “You’ll go mad in a couple of weeks. Tomas will keep an eye on you till then. Soon you won’t even remember the baby this milk was for.” She leant in and kissed the cow on the cheek. “I have a busy day ahead of me” Lilianna said as she left without ceremony. What does one say to a cow anyway?
As she left the barn with a satisfied smile on her face a hand came out a grabbed her waist. Tomas. He whisked her around and pressed her up against the wooden palings of the barn. She was not afraid of the attacker, but merely of being seen like this with him.
As her balance shifted and she found herself leaning back, trapped in the embrace. She protested. “No Tomas. We may be seen.”
Tomas did not stop. He kissed her passionately, his arms tightening in the embrace.
Lilianna didn’t resist, and for a moment she let her caution slip and allowed the embrace.
Tomas and Lilianna had been raised generations ago by the breeding stock of the very estate. Like most of the servants they had not known life outside of the large compounds walls. Innumerable numbers of their kin had fallen to the decadence of the Masters and Mistresses. Tomas; a pure Southern Italian stock, and Lilianna; a delightful experiment in race mixing, had both survived and become active in maintaining the household for the next generations. The bond between them created a trust that could allow a natural affection. They were lovers, but only in secret. Any desire known by members of the Society would soon be used to bestow perverse punishments for entertainment.
Lilianna allowed the moment to continue a little longer and then gently began to push Tomas away. He did not resist after winning his prize. “Meet me tonight?” Tomas both stated and asked.
“We shouldn’t.” Lilianna replied as they broke the embrace. She already knew Tomas would wait for her anyway, and she already knew she would go.
Tomas smiled in understanding.
Lilianna straightened her clothing and tapped her hair to make sure it was all in place. “Come back in an hour and remove the pumps and transport the milk to the kitchen for use.” She was all business again.
Tomas nodded dutifully.
“If the new cow gives you any problems rape her soundly, but anally. We don’t want her getting pregnant, she’s ripe. I could smell it.” She paused trying to repress sentiment. “I’m off to the stables. I’ll call for you when we get to the fresh breeders”. (A polite way of saying, women who had been abducted by the Society). Lilianna walked away leaving Tomas to patrol and fulfill his light duties. She headed towards the stables where, if they knew what was good for them, a couple of maids would be waiting to attend to the breeders.
Most of the breeders were from generations back and as soon as they’d come of age been thrown into the stables. A beautiful healthy woman could provide up to a dozen cows; servants (slaves), but most produced the girls who would grow to become the banquettes the autumn estate was famous for. Where the cows went mad, the breeders were allowed sanity and treated in gentle captivity so they could bestow affection on the newly born.
There was another attraction to the stables however: The pain-slave Rosalita; a reporter who had infiltrated the organization as a member’s personnel aid and had been caught before she could break the story and expose the cult’s world. The trouble she had caused within the secret society meant she would not be allowed to die. Lilianna took great satisfaction in dispensing her daily punishment whilst the maids groomed and exercised the breeders. She had become greatly skilled in pushing the slave to her deep limits and then bringing her back.
As she approached the barn two figures in scant French-Maids costumes waited either side of the double doors. Both stood at attention, Lilianna was strictest with the younger maids knowing that one day one would rise and replace her. Replacement meant becoming dinner gifted by her new Mistress to vie the favor of a Society member. Or maybe not. Recently Lilianna had been lost by the owner of the estate to an underling in a wager. Her new Mistress, raised out of the Society, was different and Lilianna found her lack of indulgence in her vulnerability confusing. Whatever her position Lilianna had been instructed to maintain the household, like before, and….. Nothing more.
The two maids stood stationary as Lilianna typed the code on a panel to allow access. She entered without uttering a word, the maids walking in flanking position at her sides. As she walked she pointed to doors one and two and the maids broke off and opened them. From the end of the row of stables Rosalita, suspended from the ceiling, began screaming in expectation. Lilianna smiled uncontrollably as the maids, almost affectionately guided two woman aged in the early thirties (multiple breeders) out of their rooms towards the opening at the end of the stable. Both breeders were with child and there naked bodies proudly displayed the Societies prizes. The rooms they came from were lavish and soft, with adult magazines that changed weekly and televisions with preprogrammed pornographic videos. These breeders had been born to the Society and knew no other life. Sex was there life goal. They actually looked forward to the maid’s attention, like a cat rising from slumber to be patted. It was the first generation breeders that caused trouble. Often semi-tamed through punishment, they were unpredictable and could try to escape. That is why Tomas was needed. To prevent their resistance, and to restrain them if they needed to be punished.
“You seem more distressed than usual Rosalita. Has the pain from your shackles prevented all rest?”
Rosalita had been toned and beautiful with long shiny dark hair, quick minded and graceful, when she’d first arrived. Her grace was still expressed in her suffering. Now her hair was knotted and greasy, her slender limbs covered in sweet drenched tight skin. She was a ragdoll to be played with.
Mournful sobbing was Rosalita’s only response, but it answered the question. Lilianna would have to shackle her to the floor tonight. If her victim went to long without sleep she could have a mental break like the cows. If Rosalita could not suffer, Lilianna would face the consequences. (She thought of her new Mistress). Or maybe not. Her own safety aside Lilianna took great pleasure in Rosalita’s torment and wanted to do it well.
The Maids were busy running water in the hotub a preparing to wash the breeders. One of them was trying to kiss the Maid guiding her into the tub. Lilianna was quick to react. “Giselle.” She said addressing the young maid from the second youngest generation.
“Yes Governess.” The Maid replied in a soft voice.
All the Maids of this age were shy and introverted. A product of an experiment in rearing techniques. “Kiss the breeder. She should be shown affection.”
“Yes Governess” and the young Giselle allowed the breeder a pornographic kiss.
“She seems horny; make sure you bring her to orgasm as you wash her.” Lilianna commanded before bringing her full attention to Rosalita’s fearful gaze.
She barely heard the third “Yes Governess.”
“What will it be today Rosalita?” Lilianna posed to the pain-slave, her attention turning to the daily ritual.
Rosalita began hyperventilating in terror.
“Whipping.” Lilianna surveyed Rosalita for her response. “Piercing.” Again she studied her. “Cuts.”
The weaken Rosalita’s eyes involuntarily widened.
Lilianna smiled. “How many cuts do you think it should be?”
“Please.” Rosalita whined as she began crying afresh.
“No, don’t be like that. You have to pick a number. Too little and you’ll be punished in double. Too many and you’ll do yourself in.” Lilianna reached into the draw of a near coffee table and removed a stainless steel scalpel.
“Please just kill me.” Came a seldom seen trace of bravery from Rosalita.
Lilianna held the scalpel for Rosalita to see. “They’re never going to let you die Rosalita. You came too close to ruining everything.” Lilianna let the message sink in; the bravery fade; and the terror return. “How many cuts?”
No words, just tears.
“Seventy-Three.” Lilianna said to prompt a response.
“No! No, please.”
“Then a number Rosalita.”
“Twenty-two.” Came the sobbing voice.
“Too low.” A quick reply.
Rosalita screamed.
Lilianna knew the game had run its course. The number was irrelevant. She would cut until her victim was on the edge of catatonia. Rosalita hung from a chain attached to the ceiling, her shackles wrist suspending her off the ground. Her ankles were stretched to the floor by a second similar arrangement. It meant that as Lilianna took hold of Rosalita’s thigh she could not escape the sharp shallow line traced by the scalpel.
Her scream intensified her ravished body still so raw to the first of many cuts.
In the background the Maids sponge bathed the breeders in the hotub, a now naked Giselle in the bath with her horny duty, bobbing underwater to provide oral pleasure until she climaxed. The late generation breeders had grown used Rosalita punishment taking place. They paid it no mind.
Lilianna’s soft fingers traced in minute scares. There were several different kinds. Bruises offer a mosaic effect on her belly and thighs from when she was beaten with a cane. More common were the fine scares from the surgical cuts Lilianna now performed. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease.” Rosalita wailed as Lilianna drew a crimson line from navel to waist. The scares kriss-crossed in a tapestry of past torment. There were also the welts from whipping and the goosebumb like marks left from needle torture.
Rosalita muscles contorted and tried to escape, but her tort suspension left her vulnerable.
Lilianna began to hum in satisfaction as she drew the next cut. She would continue till the screaming from Rosalita stopped and the twitching set in. Beyond peoples stamina and limits was a period were before breaking the body surrendered and involuntary jerks of the nervous system were the only response to pain. From practice Lilianna could persist with Rosalita until her attention was needed to supervise the new breeders.
In the hotub the horney breeder began to climax. In harmony Rosalita’s screams turned to moans of distress as Lilianna circled her body tracing more fine cuts. Rosalita’s body was now smudged with blood. She continued to fight her restraints and escape the pain as the maids, Giselle still naked from her underwater duties, guided the breeders out and began to dry them with plush towels. Several more cuts and pleas from Rosalita saw the breeders ready to be returned to their rooms. The maids took their hands and slowly guided them back before unlock the next two doors in sequence and producing two more beautiful pets in the early stages of pregnancy.
The bathing process was repeated. From experience Lilianna knew the breeders behind doors eight and eleven would still persist with the notion of independence from ownership. Lilianna looked into the pleading eyes of Rosalita as she contemplated the foolhardy notion of escape. “So stupid.” She said, surmising her view on freedom and signify Rosalita’s delusions that the glimmer mercy would be gifted.
As the maids continued the cycle and bathed the breeders Lilianna lost count of the number of cuts. As per routine the maids finished off their final breeders before the last troublesome ones. Lilianna stepped back and admired her work. Rosalita sobbed and twitched as silently as she could, her body from the breasts down was painted crimson. Lilianna lent in and indulgently lick the sweet and blood from Rosalita’s navel. Rosalita not unoblivious to the two maids awaiting the arrival of Tomas knew that her torment was almost over.
Lilianna turned to the maids. Giselle, still naked and wet from her oral duty, and the small Asian maid named Li waited in silence. Lilianna, not wanting to delay her work pulled a small two way radio from a pocket in her apron. “Tomas. We are ready for doors eight and eleven.” She waited.
“Just dropping of today’s milk. Be right there.” Tomas’s voice responded
Lilianna turned to the maids. “Giselle. Li. Rosalita is dirty. Take the vinegar from the corner and soak from sponges with it, then clean Rosalita with them.”
As both maids obeyed and went for the bottle o vinegar, Rosalita realized the effect and became panicked. Lilianna allowed herself a smile of delight at her knew found torment. The maids returned, silent as always, and sponges dripping with the mild acid began scrubbing the blood from suspended Rosalita. The sponges opened the thin cuts and the burning acidic vinegar seared the wounds. Rosalita’s convulsions of pain and screams did not alter the maids performing their duty.
As the creak of the large doors signaled Tomas’s arrival the maids had finished and Rosalita hung, the stinging liquid coating her ravished body. “Remain silent and we’ll be done for the day Rosalita” Lilianna said, and the helpless Rosalita fought back the moans of agony.
Tomas walked straight to Lilianna’s side. He surveyed Rosalita’s condition. “She seems in more pain than usual.” He commented.
“She hasn’t been allowed rest. We must bind her to the floor tonight.” Lilianna replied, her tone all business. “She’ll need some rest if she’s to remain responsive to the attention we give her.” Lilianna put the scalpel back in the draw and stood addressing Tomas, Li and Giselle. “Doors eight and eleven. We’ll do them one at a time. Remember, we may not like their attitude but we can’t harm them until they’ve gifted us our offspring.” She looked to Tomas and the two Maids. All three nodded their heads in understanding. Tomas led the way the Maids standing back. As Tomas unlocked and opened the stable room’s door a wail of terror and anger filled the stables. Tomas disappeared into the room. A scuffle could be heard before he emerged with a heavily pregnant woman in an arm lock.
“You fucking bastards I’m going to kill you.” The African American woman screamed. The Maids, confident in Tomas stood their ground. They knew the hot tube would be a struggle so they were prepared with a bucket of soapy water and sponges. As the Maids came forward to perform their duty the woman kicked in their direction.
Tomas replied by twisting the arm. “Quiet now. Steady. Steady.” He whispered to her trying to calm her.
The woman’s face was contorted in pain but still beautiful. Lilianna surveyed her with disgust. “It’s been eight months Tomas and she hasn’t learnt to stop fighting. I can’t imagine Mistress Gia will bother using her for another generation.”
The woman in Tomas grasp writhed against the caresses of the Maids and their sponges.
“Fucking crazy sluts. Fucking crazy sluts.” The breeder repeated as sponges probed her sex, keeping her clean.
Tomas ignored the insults but answered Lilianna. “She’s got spirit” he commented. “And look at her muscle tone. Her offspring are going to be perfect cattle.” Tomas could tell his argument had affected Lilianna who now looked at the woman’s muscular legs with an appetite.
The cleaning took a moment longer and the woman’s brief excursion from her stable room ended. Tomas dragged her back inside.
“Number eleven has been good of late, but stay on hand Tomas.” Lilianna walked to stable eleven and opened the door, Maids in toe. Lilianna opened the door a crack and called into the room “Are you going to behave, or do we need to be rough.”
“Yes.” Came a timid voice after a pause.
“Yes, behave. Or yes, rough.” Lilianna said knowing the answer from the breeders defeated tone.
“I’ll behave.” Came a whisper of a reply and Lilianna pushed to door completely open.
Lilianna frowned. In the stable a young Swedish girl, slim wasted, but with large perfect breasts huddled on the edge of her bed. The mattress was stripped bare and Lilianna could see the traces of her sheets tucked under the bed frame. The girl looked at Lilianna with an apprehension not related to the impending intrusion of the Maids with her bathing.
The girl had but a month ago been breed with Gia’s faithful associate Randy Kennedy. Though Lilianna disliked Randy, what she had learned about breeding couples in her few years, suggested the match would give blue eyed; curvaceous; and fair skinned, blonde offspring. Such children could be used please Society members and were in demand, but Lilianna suspected something has gone amiss.
As Lilianna entered the stable alone she bent down and pulled the crumpled sheets from beneath the bed. In silence she examined them and soon the obvious blood stains unfolded. The Swedish breeder began to cry. Perhaps Randy had told her it was her last chance before…..
“She’s not pregnant.” Lilianna said to Tomas.
The Maids were silent, but chanced a glance at each other, tiny grin appearing on their faces. For Lilianna a failed breeder meant a drop in productivity. For the Maids, with the Society members absent from the estate, it meant a rare feast.
“But she didn’t get her period.” Tomas called back.
Lilianna emerged from the stable, sobs of helplessness coming from the failed breeder, and held up the stained sheets for Tomas to see. Tomas gave a defeated shrug on behalf of his secret lover.
Lilianna allowed herself a moment of reflection. It was not her fault, this breeder had been given multiple chances, but she was responsible in Mistress Gia’s absence. She collected her thoughts. “Li run ahead to the main house and get the kitchen staff to prepare for a feast tonight.” The Maid bolted up straight and dropped her bucket and sponge, the excitement showing as a skip in her step and she ran. “Tomas, take our little failed project to the kitchen. It’s still early so they’ll be able to do a particularly slow roast.” Tomas nodded and as Lilianna stepped out of the stable doorway began to drag the terrified woman to her fate. “Giselle, if you would stay behind and assist with Rosalita.”
Giselle had not had pause to redress after her pleasuring duties in the hotub took tiny but hasty steps to catch up to Lilianna as she strode to Rosalita. All the maids of Giselle’s generation were tiny and petite. Giselle waited as Lilianna release the lever that kept Rosalita’s chains taught. There was a clank of metal grating and Rosalita’s form collapsed to the floor. She’d been so ravished her thud came with only a cough and a groan.
“We’ll put her in number elevens stable for tonight. Fetch her some water.” Lilianna said as she unshackled Rosalita’s welted and bloody wrist and ankles. The pain-slave was too weak to move. Lilianna was fit and easily dragged the wasted away Rosalita unto the sheetless mattress. As Giselle placed a pitcher and glass of water in the room, Lilianna took the glass and cradled Rosalita’s head. “Come Rosalita.” Lilianna said placing the glass at her lips and gifting her a trickle of water. It would be enough to encourage Rosalita to drink more in their absence. “Tomorrow you will eat the left over’s.” Lilianna allowed herself a tormenting smile. “And even though the source of the meat sickens you, you will eat it, because it’s the only food you’ll ever get.” Lilianna release Rosalita into her recovery. She knew she would have to go easy on her tomorrow, but today had been fun.
“Everything away and in order” Lilianna said to the still naked Giselle as she locked the stable door behind her.
“Yes Governess”. Giselle answered and sensing her duties over reached for her uniform to put it on.
Lilianna held out a hand signaling her to stop.
Giselle halted without thought.
“You pleasured that breeder very well.” Lilianna said eyeing the petite build of her Maid.
“Thank you Governess.”
“I suspect you’ve done that before many times.” Lilianna caressed the small mound of Giselle’s right breast. “But on who? How did you learn to do that?”
Giselle’s face grew in apprehension, her eyes widened. Fearful she remained silent. Intimacy between the Maids and the male servants was prohibited, but the Maids had been raised together in quarters. Late at night, erotic exchanges had always occurred. The participants had no knowledge if they were allowed or frowned upon.
“It’s ok Giselle. You don’t have to tell me.” Lilianna knelt down and picked up the Maids uniform. As she handed it to her she said, “In fact I’m very happy. I will be noting your proficiency with Mistress Ero’s.”
Giselle felt relief.
Lilianna allowed herself a moment of maternal bliss as bestowing her approval, and then snapped back to status. “Hurry and get dressed. I need you back at your duties.”
It took only a second for the Maid to slip back into the scant uniform. Once dressed she turned and scurried to the exit. As she passed by, Lilianna affectionately spanked her bottom to make her hurry. Lilianna liked Giselle; she would do what she could to see she survived for a few generations. Li her counterpart, despite performing her duties soundly, had not stood out from the crowd and would most likely be replaced come Autumn with a new and younger Maid. At the next Autumn gathering at the estate their number would be culled at the perverse pleasures of the guests, but the breeders from Estates all over the world always replenished the stock. Lilianna had been told six of the young stock who had come of age had been trained in housekeeping duties at the Eros Estate. That meant the six least special current Maids would be offered up. Lilianna was in the early stages of preparing the list in her mind.
Chapter 2.
Lilianna strode past the kitchen at the exact moment the Swedish ex-breeders distress was silenced by the ruby red apple. Bound and oiled in the giant roasting pan Tomas aided the cook as he lifted it into the still cool oven. Slow roasting meant heat would be increased gradually starting at room temperature. Lilianna smiled at Tomas, the cook and the small crowd of Maids who had gathered to see the spectacle. The room buzzed with excitement.
She clapped her hand twice. Everyone bolted and stood upright. “I know you’re excited, but remember, get all your duties done.” She pointed to everyone, but allowed a smile to show that they were allowed their excitement. Lilianna knew how rare it was for servants of the estate to have a banquette like their Masters, and Mistress. It was like Christmas to a child, but none of the servants knew what Christmas was.
Lilianna had attended to all the jobs that needed her personnel attention save one. Prior to the end of the Autumn season her old Mistress, Gia, had lost her in a wager to a young woman, interning in the Society. Losing the bet had angered Gia, but she had calmly honored it, partly because Lilianna’s new Mistress had made no demands that altered the running of the estate save one; the young Maid Anetta. Lilianna’s new Mistress, Cassandra Blake, had taken a liking to the young blond Maid and had requested special treatment. As a result the Anetta had only to maintain Cassandra’s guestroom and be allowed resources to keep the young Intern well received by the Society.
As the House keeper came to the doorway of the Estates large library. Anetta, tiny and petite like Giselle, sat in an oversized lounge chair reading a book. She did not hear the stealthy Lilianna till she was in touching distance. Anetta startled.
Lilianna smiled, happy that the years of servitude had imprinted this submissive streak. “We’re having a feast tonight Anetta.” Lilianna announced.
Before leaving Cassandra had told Anetta she did not have to obey Lilianna if she chose, but the liberation had not taken to the fragile Maid. “Thank you Governess.” She said as Lilianna stared at her. Afraid of the attention she stared at the book, noticeably to scared to read the text.
“Oh, come Anetta, didn’t your Cassandra tell you have nothing to fear from me.” Lilianna produced the magazines she’d used as an excuse to interrupt Anetta. “She has sent you more magazines.” Lilianna produced a small pile of fashion magazines to educate Anetta on hairstyles and makeup, and the associated fashions they come with.
Anetta eyes lit up with excitement. Anetta had been brought to the Estate at the age of eighteen. Her youth was spent learning basic duties, reading allowed so she may follow instructions left on notes. The magazines brought a glimpse of the outside world, but also ways she might please her benefactor.
“What are you reading?” Lilianna asked.
Anetta, calmed by the gift, found the courage to respond; her voice timid by nature. “It’s called Alice Through The Looking Glass.”
Lilianna, who had been groomed in later years with an education, frowned. “I don’t know it.” She said a little jealously.
“It’s about a girl in a strange land.”
“And, you chose this book?” Lilianna enquired. A servant acquiring signs of independence was a matter of concern.
“No, Mistress Cassy instructed me to read it.” Anetta was innocent of having intrigue in anything other than her charge. “Who are we eating?” Anetta asked, the changing of the subject an indication she was unaware she was being subtly interrogated.
Lilianna decided Anetta was not a current threat to the order of the household. “One of the breeders.” She answered. “Mistress Gia will be most displeased.”
Anetta buried her head in her book. Mistress Gia being displeased meant punishments. The fragile Maid was not use to being privy to conversations about the running of the household.
“Your sister Maids are very excited. I think I’m going to let them have some time off duties to relax. Most of them have been working very well.”
Anetta kept silent.
Lilianna tired of the conversation with the introverted Maids. She sighed and rose to her feet. “See you at dinner Anetta. Enjoy your book.” She left the library without looking back at the intimidated little Maid. On the one hand the gift of leisure time had not changed the Maids behavior so that it would cause a problem for the Household, but on the other she had learnt nothing about her new owner. As Lilianna walked down the hall the mouthwatering scent of roasting meat greeted her. She inhaled deeply. The vacant stable room meant trouble, but she would report it tomorrow, today she would enjoy the staff’s banquette.
Chapter 3.
The aroma filled the entire house just like it did when the Society occupied the residence in Autumn. Lilianna stood in her supervisory position in the dinning room as always. Six Maids bustled about the enormous dinner table, setting plates; napkins and utensils for all the Estate staff. Lilianna enjoyed the silent efficiency of the Maids. When they’d finished they stood awkwardly. Lilianna laughed daintily, “Oh all right girls, pick your seats.” The Maids burst into frantic competition over seats in the middle of the long table, all of them wanting seats were they could view the magnificent roast that would be presented to them. Lilianna new there fascination was innocent of the knowledge that several, if not all of them, would share the breeder’s fate.
The cook entered the room and stood at attention.
“At elle survivre?” Lilianna asked. For some reason Gia insisted her cooks speak French. Lilianna suspected it was so the staff could not overhear which of them was on the menu. The question: Did she survive, was one of curiosity.
The cook gave a malevolent smile, “Oui.” He said, and shared a moment of sadism with Lilianna. He clicked his heels and turned and left.
Lilianna approached the closest Maid, but spoke to all of them. “Our guest of honor survived her roasting, girls.” She beamed excitedly.
All the Maids mouths opened. For them this was being spoilt, a feast just like their Masters. A bell rang from the kitchen; it was the signal for the household to gather for the rare feast.
As several staff entered Lilianna spotted Giselle hanging back not taking a seat like the rest of the staff. Concerned she watched. Her curiosity was soon solved as a late (having to come all the way from the library) Anetta entered the room. Giselle and Anetta’s eyes met and the two silent head in sync for seats next to each other. They watched so closely together that for a second their hands touched, and then nervously fidgeted way, most likely scared of being seen.
But it had been seen. Lilianna’s brain began to whirl with potential. If the Maids shared a bond it could be exploited for her benefit, especially with her new Mistresses favorite in the mix. She switched back to her duties, loud heavy footsteps coming from the kitchen hall. The main course was coming. The room fell silent; all the Estates servants listened with anticipation. Finally the double door swung open and Tomas, along with three kitchen staff entered carrying a long silver platter like a coffin. An audible silence followed the awkward exchange from shoulder to table. The only noise that could be heard came from the meal itself, soft pitiful whimpers, and the apple still firmly in her mouth.
The cook waited to the side ready to carve as Lilianna walked towards the now golden brown motionless figure. Her muscles cooked she was paralyzed save a shallow rise and fall of her chest as she breathed weekly. Only the eyes of the breeder wide open staring at Lilianna hinted how aware the meal still was.
Lilianna reached over and pulled the apple out of her mouth. “Can you speak?” She asked. “Do you have anything to say?” She bit into the roasted apple, it gave way and a trickle of its juices ran down her cheek, the whole time staring at the helpless meals desperate stare.
“Please help.” Came a strained whisper of hope.
Lilianna smiled her sultry smile. “Cut around the vital bits” Lilianna said to the cook without looking at him. “Make sure she’s aware of them coming back for more” and with her final sentence of death so extreme, Lilianna turned and left the room. Tomas followed as the carving started, the Estate servants distracted by the spectacle.
Epilogue.
Tomas walked down the hall of her Mistresses room. The servants where all at the banquette, but as caution, there was one place no member of the Household would dare to enter; Mistress Eros’ chambers. He glanced up and down the abandon hall and seeing no sign of witnesses gently slipped though the doorway into the dark room.
Having only visited a few times he struggled to find a light switch. A giggle came from a familiar voice, and trusting no one would hear said, “Come on Lilianna. Where is the switch?”
A click came from across the room and soft lighting filled the spacious chamber. Lilianna stood at the opposite side of the room, her housekeepers dress lay crumpled on the floor beside her. “What do you think?” she said and spun around giving him a full view of the black lingerie.
Tomas’ response was of concern, “That’s not… You’re not wearing….”
“It’s mine Tomas.” Lilianna was quick to answer and gave him a playful look. “Mistress Gia likes to show me off sometimes.”
Tomas settled. Being in his Mistresses room was bad; having his lover wear her clothes was illegal.
“I’m getting bored Tomas. Come play with me.” Lilianna made her lover walk across the room deeper into forbidden territory. Tomorrow she would have to contact Gia and tell her the breeder had failed, but tonight she would be free whilst the household fed distracted.
The White Glove Society 4: Meeting the Gentleman.
Introduction.
Cassandra Blake had stayed at the Eros Estate for two weeks prior to being released back into the world at the grace of her new Mistress, Gia Eros. Autumn having finished there was no one at the Estate save the servants and Gia; who made last minute arrangements for the maintenance of the Society’s Autumn retreat in her absence. Gia had a sophisticated and graceful beauty, complicated b her sadistic affection. She had the manner and experience of an older woman, the gifted of an exotic life. Randy, whose relationship with Gia, Cassandra did not understand left the day after Cassandra lost her liberty. She was left alone to entertain Gia, most frequently on her cross; staring with desperation at her beautiful torturer. Every night Gia would summon her before dinner, and every night Gia would test her flesh in unwelcome fondling graciously received and teasingly ask, “Should I have you for dinner tonight.”
Cassandra stopped feeling sorry for the young women who took her place from a seemingly endless supply. All hesitation in eating the taboo meat fell away as a risk of upsetting her owner and intensifying her nightly torment.
Chapter 1.
It was a novelty to receive a telegram in modern times. After being chauffer driven from the estate to the airport Cassandra had instinctively boarded a flight home. Her father had gone on campaign for the election for State Senator again. Given that he had arranged for Cassandra to meet an untimely demise at the Estate, Cassandra didn’t stay other than to collect a necklace of her mothers and one of her father’s credit cards. She headed South to Mexico and after seven weeks of restlessly trying to forget her suffering started to relax.
“She tracked the credit card” Cassandra thought as she read the telegram. A bust boy at the Hotel she was staying at delivered it to her by the pool. At first she thought it might have been a note from a handsome tourist she had been eyeing through her sunglasses. All excitement at the note halted as she read it.
Cassy dear,
Come to the Grand Hyatt Hotel in New York by February 12th.
Dress to entertain.
Gia.
Cassandra stared at the note, unable to reread the words. “Run.” She thought. But where and with what money. Cassandra had been bought up in a life of privilege and decadence. Her expensive education told her she wouldn’t survive without money, and money was traceable. “Tell.” Echoed briefly, only to be dismissed by the memory of Rosalita suspended from the stable roof in chains. What little Cassandra knew about the Society told her it was invincible. Presidents were members and even organizations like the Secret Service kept it hidden. She took a deep breath. It was the 11th of February today; Cassandra had only a day to get to New York or…….
Chapter 2.
Cassandra hated New York, but the crammed intolerance; the myriad of people with their hands out for money; and the grimy filth that coated the city was dulled with nervous anticipation. Having hastily packed and headed for the airport. She still wore cut-off jeans and a tight t-shirt that had been so suitable in Mexico. She left the cab, receiving the title of “cheap bitch” for not tipping the cabby. The flight was overnight and Gia had not given a time. Trying to come up with a strategy for the unknown Cassandra was ignorant of the uncertainty from the bellhop as he opened the door for her. It was only when she reached the concierges desk that she realized how she must look; like a tourist in the wrong place.
The Concierge eyed her up and down though tilted spectacles. He was frowning.
Cassandra, knowing etiquette smiled politely, but adopted serious eyes. “Cassandra Blake to see Mistress…. I mean Miss Gia Eros.
The name or perhaps the accidental exposure of title made the Concierge sharper. “Miss Blake.” He said as if to verify the name. “Miss Eros arrived early this morning and is expecting you in the Penthouse.” He eyed her again. “I trust you are here as….” a moment pause “for dinner this evening.”
Cassandra recognized the sadistic grin. The implication of his accounting for her business with Gia angered Cassandra, her nerves already frayed. She turned away, but in a moment of absence turned back. The Concierge had already shifted his attention, but now looked again ad Cassandra and eyed her cautiously.
“Subtle hints and innuendo may expose things best kept secret to unwelcome ears.” Cassandra said to him, her voice tinted with sharpness.
A surprised look washed over the Concierges face for a moment, his instinct of servantile status within the Hotels hospitality kicked in. “Of course.” He said his tone more passive. And then as if after thought he said, “Please do not tell Gia.”
Cassandra smiled sweetly and then despite her out of place clothes, walked to the Elevator as if she owned the Hotel. As she did so she walked past a tall handsome, middle aged, man who had witnessed the scene. He smiled at her as if he approved.
Her momentary confidence began to waver on the long lift rid to the Penthouse. As they reached the upper floor the elevator attendant stepped forward and placed a key in the panel. He turned it and the elevator began moving again. Cassandra smiled at him nervously, and gentle bump signaled they had reached their destination. Cassandra walked into the entrance of the Penthouse. The large double doors separating the elevator from the Penthouse where open and Cassandra could hear Gia softly singing to herself a song in Spanish.
Despite the gentle melody Cassandra felt her muscles tense. She stopped walking short of the entrance, the memory of the silver needle piercing her body, and a soft hands gentle caress as Gia confused the pain with pleasure. The memory made by repetition made crystal clear in her mind. Her legs began to shake as fear rather than reason told her to call back the elevator and ran.
The song stopped. “Cassy dear, is that you.” Gia called, somehow sensing her.
Cassandra summoned her courage, but only managed to shuffle to the doorway; half in the penthouse, half out.
Gia turned around, her expression passive and contemplative. “Why are you standing in the doorway, come in.”
Cassandra was taken aback by Gia’s appearance. She stood in front of a window, staring out at the horizon. A red designer dress clung to her perfect body highlighting her Latin curves. Her legs were exposed mid thigh and the v line on the dress exposed her healthy, perfect breasts. She looked untouchable to men. As Cassandra took a step in the room the welcoming smile turned to pursed painted lips. The eyes looked un-approvingly, but only for a moment. Gia rolled her eyes and seductively said, “Oh Cassy. You would entertain dressed like that?”
Cassandra’s mouth dropped open. She had been so intent on the summons she had forgot the instruction. Fearing punishment Cassandra hastily pleaded, “I’m sorry Gia. I………..”
Before she could finish the elevator chimed.
Gia looked at her, but not angrily. “No time. Strip.”
Cassandra startled, something she tried not to show, but found slipped out at times.
Gia seemed urgent not to have a delay as the doors sounded opening. She held up her index finger as if warning of discipline to a child.
Cassandra sensed it was in her interest to strip. Quickly she pulled of the T-shirt and unbuttoned her jeans. As she pulled her jeans off she slipped out of her sneakers. Chatter came from the hall between the entrance and the elevator. A man’s voice talking to a young woman. She stepped out of her clothes save a pair of pink plain knickers and socks that made her look childish. As a pair of shadows pierced the open Penthouse doors Gia kicked Cassandra’s clothes into a corner and poised by her side. Cassandra sense that she had a trace of excitement for the guest.
Chapter 3.
The young girl, Cassandra’s age, who step in the room beamed an involuntary smile at her older escort. She was clearly in love with the middle aged man a step behind. He looked familiar to Cassandra but she could not place him. He was wearing politicians black suit that hung as if it were hand tailored for him. The girl was short and light ebony with a seductive grace that invited attraction. Her hair was short and curly; jet black from her African heritage. Cassandra could tell by the way she smiled invitingly at Gia in greeting that she did not know her, nor the type of attention such openness could bring.
Gia did not return the girls smile. She stared at the older man for a moment and then, like no one else was in the room, glided forward as if to kiss him. She halted as Cassandra, stark in her lithe form, felt so exposed. Gia placed both hands behind her back and slowly tilted her head to expose the soft olive skin of her neck. The unknown man took the final step that closed the distance between them. He reached around and grasped Gia’s hand as if restraining them behind her back. The pairs bodies up against each other his head cropped and he sniffed her neck before bring his face against Gia’s and kissing her check softly. He released his hands from her wrists and with it affectionately stroked her cheek.
Cassandra forgot she was naked at the shock of seeing someone as proud and strong as Gia submit to a man’s affection.
The unknown ebony girls smile faded and adopted a nervous jealousy at the scene.
Gia stepped back from the embrace and held both the man’s hands gentle, their bodies facing each other.
The man spoke after a pause. Though Cassandra would not know this to later in the day, she correctly deduced that Gia was waiting for the man to speak first. The man stepped back and held out his arm. The unknown girl rushed to it and he placed his arm around her in affection, much toned down from that given to Gia.
“Gia, this is Alicia.” He said gesturing to Gia with an open arm, presenting the young nymph.
The girl correctly remained silent but unwisely smiled invitingly at Gia, indicating her affection was for the taking.
Gia was polite and nodded to her in greeting. It was now Gia’s turn to introduce Cassandra. She stepped back and walked behind Cassandra. Without speaking she grasped both of Cassandra’s hand and pulled them away from their modest position covering her breasts. As the eyes of the strangers viewed Cassandra’s vulnerability Gia spoke. “Dalton” she said naming the handsome gentleman, “this is Cassandra Blake, formerly the daughter of Senator Blake.”
The man named Dalton nodded his head slightly in greeting. The girl, Alicia, eyed Cassandra’s exposure with a superior distain. Cassandra guessed she saw her as meat. “She’s very beautiful.” Dalton added.
“So is your Alicia.”
“How long have you had her?” The man asked, directly and with polite posture.
“A little over two months. She’s been free to roam most of it.” Gia replied in honest sincerity. “You and..” Gia looked at the ebony girl, but did not name her. “How long have you been sharing your life with her?”
“A little over six months.” Dalton replied and looked apologetic.
“Is that why you didn’t come to the Autumn Estate?” Gia asked, daring an insult. But Cassandra guessed that the insurmountable Gia might actually be hurt by the answer.
Dalton did not answer the question. Extending the apology he took an emotive tone, “Oh Gia, I’m here now.” He became business like again. “Alicia is very good at pleasing people.” His voice came. Alicia arced her body as if excited by Dalton’s innuendo. “Can you say the same for your little Cassandra.”
“She has not pleasured me once.” Gia stated. Dalton looked shocked by her response. “But she has given me great pleasure, and shows a surprising wit when in peril.”
Dalton took the point. “Yes, I saw her in action.”
With the hint Cassandra finally placed Dalton as the man who had smiled at her in the lobby.
“She took on the concierge in cut off jeans and T-shirt.”
Cassandra felt warmth across her chest and knew her breasts were blushing. The conversation had gone on far too long to be a mere introduction. She had a moment of fear, but a quick glance at Alicia told her the competition was oblivious by trust.
“So you like my little Cassy?” Gia finished as grasped Cassandra’s shoulder.
For the briefest of seconds Cassandra was cautious that this was for restraint. But she had been at Gia mercy to many times and knew it was show only. Cassandra gently inhaled and intuition told her stand in offering to the unknown man Dalton, as a way of offering what Alicia offered. With her free hand she pulled down her panties until they dropped free and stood at a relaxed attention.
Dalton blinked hastily, and then recovering, smiled. “I like her.”
“Of course you do.” Gia said as if there was never any doubt.
Dalton made a hasty jerk of his arm in striking. Cassandra jumped in shock as his arms snapped around Alicia’s throat. It was a momentary and surgical stab with his thumb, a look of shock came over Alicia’s face which was quickly turning red. Gia remained calm in the few seconds it took for Alicia eyes to roll close and her body slump limp to the floor. Dalton had not even wrinkled his suit, the action obviously hewn through experience.
“Honestly.” Gia objected. “That was not becoming you Dalton, she was so dim she would have walked into the kitchen.
Dalton looked wounded, but did not shake in his composure.
Gia released her grip of Cassandra’s arm and whispered in her ear. “Well done. You won.” She patted Cassandra’s clitoris with her index finger. “Dalton is going to be cooking us dinner all day Cassy.”
Dalton was removing his jacket to carry the unconscious Alicia to the kitchen.
“You are going to get have to come shopping with me for something suitable to wear.” She looked at Cassandra, who collected her things quickly, the recent escape from the oven encouraging her obedience. “You will get to know Mr. Dalton Monroe over dinner.” As Cassandra started to slip back into her clothes Gia deliberately clear her throat. Cassandra had taken her eyes of her and not seen Gia retrieve a black trench coat which she extended out to Cassandra. “This should be sufficient for modesty.”
Cassandra took the coat, the intended humility lashed her psyche, but somehow she managed a submissive smile.
Gia took a mink fur coat from a stand and glided into it. She took an affectionate look at Cassandra as she looked self-conscious. “Come.” She did not acknowledge Dalton as she walked to the elevator lobby of the penthouse. Cassandra followed as if on a leash.
As they waited for the elevator to come Gia turned to Cassandra. “Has your Father never spoken of Dalton.”
Cassandra could not answer in fear of showing nervousness. She knew that Gia had championed her over Alicia, but had no idea what power Dalton had if he could make Gia affectionate. She fought the panic she was feeling at the potential close call.
Gia took her silence as a negative. “Perhaps not.” The elevator door chimed and she stepped in smiling at the attendant. Cassandra followed and stood by Gia’s side. As the door closed Dalton, who stood behind the open doors of the penthouse smiled a temporary farewell.
The Rolls Royce Phantom town car was waiting for them as they left the Hyatt. The driver waited by the rear door until both ladies and climbed in and then gently closed it. As he got in the front seat he turned his head halfway to Gia, dutifully offering his ear.
“Young Cassy requires a dress to entertain Mr., Monroe, Charles.”
“Any designer in particular Mistress Eros.” The driver Charles replied. “Or should I take you on a circuit.”
“Jiovani’s please Charles.”
Chapter 4.
“Jiovani’s” held a lavish store in the heart of the Garment District. The stores smooth walls were painted in soft grays and lit by hundreds of bulbs casting shadows in every direction (or none at all) as you walked around myriad of dresses for all occasions.
Cassandra had been spoilt as a child, and the store almost felt like a birthday treat…. Almost.
As Gia flick through the dresses looking for one for her prize intern, Cassandra noticed one of stores attendants eyeing her with concern. Cassandra made eye contact for a second, and elementary suggested the attendant had no knowledge of the Society. Cassandra ignored her, not wishing to draw attention, but couldn’t help but feel exposed. An intelligent student of fashion would notice the signs of her nudity under the coat.
“What do you think of these?” Gia said, turning to the patient Cassandra offering a dress at either arm length. The motion was in sync with a sharp look of caution to the store attendant who promptly looked away.
Cassandra blinked. Both were very beautiful dresses that would have complimented her figure and matched Gia’s red dress in opulence. Had Cassandra not noticed the gentle tension in Gia’s lips she would have fallen for the trick. It was a mistake to compete with Gia for glamour in front of Dalton, Cassandra quickly deduced. Both dresses would have empowered her beauty and challenged Gia. Cassandra’s instinct told her she should act as a submissive witness to the pairs affections. An impulse struck her. “What kind of lingerie does Mr. Monroe like?” Cassandra turned her attention to the racks of lace and silk in the far corner of the store. As she turned back she saw Gia’s face lit up in delight.
“A+ Cassy.” She said and returned the dresses to the rack. Her back still turned she said, “Lace; two piece’ crutchless, but tasteful. You have fair skin, white will make you seem angelic; black seductive; and red is the signal you want to punished.” Gia tuned back as if reliving a thousand memories of indulgence at the suggestion of red lingerie.
“Gia is wearing a red dress”, Cassandra thought as she walked to the racks of nightwear, Gia remaining to look at other dresses, the final decision now hers. She knew, in reality that only being eighteen with limited sexual experience with men that she might not be able to prove seductive if tested. That left white and red. Red promised torment, but voluntarily satisfying the couple’s sadism may offer a reward. As she reached for a red bundle of lace her hand began to shake.
“Are you alright Miss?” Came a polite and concerned enquiry from the store attendant, who had magically appeared at Cassandra’s side.
Cassandra startled. “Yes.” She said regaining herself. “It’s very important I choose the right one.” The truth, void of detail in the brief statement allowed Cassandra the freedom to think.
The attendant stepped back, waited on Cassandra’s call, but kept her concerned look.
Cassandra bit her lower lip and selected both a Red and White lingerie to try on. In her mind she knew, if White was the wrong choice, she could change into the Red and allow their appeasement. “May I try these on?”
“Ah, of course” the attendant said with hesitation signaling concern at such a young girl requesting such provocative clothing. Despite her concerns, the attendant still gestured with her right hand to the change rooms at the back of the store.
As Cassandra walked to the rear Gia glided over to the attendant, intercepting her stare of concern and politely asked her name. Cassandra was curious to see Gia interact with a normal person, but feared people seldom fared well from being known by Gia. The change room was walled with mirrors and well lit. Cassandra tried on both pairs of lingerie, and both testified to her skill as a shopper, fitting perfectly. Slipping them off and wrapping the trench coat around her goose bumps covered body she exited to the store front. She was met by the sight of the Attendant leaning back against the wall, Gia’s arm extended boxing her in. For a moment Cassandra though Gia was threatening the attendant, but flirtatious laughter suggested that Gia was seducing her.
Gia turned her attention to Cassandra and gave her a smile of satisfaction. Her vanquished foe giggled again as Gia walked to the counter signaling for Cassandra to follow. Cassandra complied and watched the transaction in a daze, Gia offering a generous tip.
Before they left the attendant spoke up, “So I’ll come by the Hyatt tomorrow after work and I’ll tell you about the styles we’re getting in next month’s.”
Gia tossed her silk hair over her shoulder. “I’ll be waiting.” The sultry look Gia gave made the attendant blush and buzz excited. Cassandra forced a polite, unnoticed smile and they left, the car waiting for them as Charles held the door. As they stepped in Gia took a serious tone. “If anyone notices you like that when you’re with me I need to know immediately.”
Cassandra took her tone as a cautionary warning. “Yes Gia” she offered as compliance. “What are you going to do to her?” As she said it she wished she hadn’t.
If Gia was annoyed she didn’t show it “I’m going to take a couple of days and completely destroy her. Then I’m going to eat her.”
Cassandra dropped her head.
“It’s not your fault Cassandra.” Gia offered to remove Cassandra’s apprehension. “Working there she’s trained to observe the customers. Try to think of it this way, she’s just a girl who went swimming and met a shark.”
Cassandra hid her guilt at the fate of the concerned attendant. “I’m learning not to mind the little things.” She finished submissively, and Gia granted her silence to compose herself.
Chapter 5.
As the doors of the elevator opened on the Penthouse Dalton called out. “You’re back early.”
Gia waited till they were well into the foyer, so she didn’t have to raise her voice, before saying “I told you, Cassy has wit. She learns too fast.” Having sated Dalton’s curiosity Gia turned to Cassandra. “Your room is on the right, next to Dalton’s and mine. Go get changed and entertain him whilst he prepares dinner, I have some business to attend to.” She affectionately cleared the hair from Cassandra’s face, tracing her finger over her cheek. The motion ended with a tap, as it she was clicking a computer mouse.
Cassandra obeyed silently and hastened for the room. She closed the door. As she removed the trench coat she expected Gia to gently open the door. Even shielded by walls of the room Cassandra felt her prying eyes consuming her nude form. Cassandra slipped on the white lingerie and taking a moment closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Despite the constant pressure to please her Mistress through sexual manipulation she knew it was better than the alternative of being dinner. She stared at her face in the mirror until her expression took on one of belonging confidence (a trick she had learned from her politician father). She forced the society smile and held it till it felt natural. Self assured she looked the part she walked out of her bedroom and through the foyer to the kitchen. As she hurried through the room she could hear Gia talking on the phone in the Master bedroom.
Cassandra knocked on the kitchen door gently.
“Enter” Dalton’s voice came back and Cassandra applied a slight pressure to the door.
The kitchen was modern and the rooms light reflected of polished stainless steel and white tiles. Dalton had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and he wore a striped apron. He looked up and smiled over Alicia, who lay belly down on a wooden table between them. Cassandra hid her anxiety at the motionless loser of Daltons and Gia’s little game and presented herself in the room. Dalton looked at her expectantly.
“Yes?” He said enquiring for her business.
Cassandra realized she was staring at Alicia’s helplessness. She quickly looked away at Dalton and reinforced her smile. “Mistress Gia said I should talk with you while you prepare dinner. She has some business to attend to.”
As she finished speaking she saw Dalton shift his attention from Alicia to her figure in the lingerie. He looked her up and down. “You are very appealing Cassandra Blake.” He said as if reminding himself. He paused for a moment longer. “Look here.” Dalton grabbed Alicia’s head and slightly turned it. Alicia was alive, as proven by the gentle rise and fall of her back as she breathed, but she appeared to have lost the ability to move. As he turned her head he exposed five sewing pins sticking out of the back of Alicia’s neck. “You pierce the spinal column between the Atlas and Cervical vertebrae and the swelling of the spinal cord causes paralysis from the neck down. The repertory system still functions and the object of your desire becomes easy to manage and prepare.”
“Ingenious.” Cassandra said in a forced complement.
“Is it?” Dalton turned Alicia’s head again. This time so Cassandra could see her face.
Alicia’s eyes were wide and stared at Cassandra in desperation. The girl was silently crying. She seemed to be trying to speak, no doubt to beg, but couldn’t.
Dalton stared at Cassandra’s reaction, or lack of. There was only a subtle waver in Cassandra’s polite smile. “You’re determined to stay off the dinner table aren’t you Cassandra? Do you have any sympathy for Alicia here?”
“To be honest Dalto…………….” Cassandra paused before saying his name.
“You may call me Dalton.” He said and gestured to Cassandra in friendship.
“To be honest Dalton” she paused. “It was her or me.”
Dalton nodded, conceding the point. He took a bowl filled with some kind of aromic oil and a pastry brush. He dabbed the brush and started painting Alicia with it.
He was basting her.
“You must have a lot of questions your too scared to ask Gia.” Dalton said busy at work.
“Please call me Cassy.” Cassandra said playing another card, the first having been her smile.
Dalton looked up from his work, not at Cassandra, but at her exposed sex in the crotchless lingerie. Then he looked intently into her eyes. He seemed commanding and handsome, despite his role as murderer. Cassandra found it attractive despite the situation. Her chest flushed pink again and it contrast the white lace that accentuated her young body.
“My friends call me Cassy.” She repeated slightly flustered.
Dalton broke into a smile before returning his attention to his work. “I would like to be friends Cassy. I can tell you have made quiet the impression on Gia by the way she championed you. You must have many questions as to your future.” The brush he worked with his hand dabbed at Alicia’s vagina, applying a healthy coating.
Cassandra found her eye drifting down to Alicia’s expression of muted betrayal. “Gia told me wearing red is a signal you wish to be punished in the Society.” It was not the most obvious question, but it was one Cassandra wanted the answer to, and Cassandra hoped he would answer it even though it had not been posed as a question. “But Gia is wearing a red dress.”
“Gia offers herself to me whenever we have a meeting like this. She knows I have no desire to take that liberty, but she always makes herself available for it. Though in many ways she is more influential than me, she has never wanted to forget she belongs to me.”
Cassandra blinked. The thought of someone owning Gia shocked her.
Dalton stopped his preparation of Alicia. He ran his finger over Alicia’s oiled buttock and then stared intently at Alicia. “I think what you want to hear is the story of Gia’s origin.” He gestured for Cassandra to sit on a stool by a bench and waited for her to do so. He watched the delicate showing of Cassandra muscles in her legs, but met her eyes as she perched and waited to hear the story. “Gia was born an identical twin. Breed by my father in a large complex in Saudi Arabia. It’s were the majority of the Societies servants come from. As Gia and her sister grew it became obvious that they were more beautiful than most of the servants of their generation. So beautiful that they were trained to be House Keepers. Gia excelled at her schooling, her twin sister did not.”
Dalton spoke well but he did not have the pompous attitude accompanied by most Society members. Cassandra realized he was speaking a personal story but it was abridged of many details. She listened intently hoping that a piece of information could help her in the future.
“My father saw Gia and her sister as a package deal. Since one was failing, the project had failed. As an alternative he decided that the novelty of them being twins would make a memorable banquette, so he instructed me to place them in the abattoir and care for them until the perfect opportunity for the feast presented itself.” Dalton paused and looked at Cassandra.
Cassandra offered her genuine expression of bafflement.
Dalton seemed to appreciate Cassandra disbelief at her Mistress ever being in a position like her own. “One morning I came to feed and clean Gia and her sister” he paused “as I walked down to their stable I heard cries of distress. I approached the stable where Gia and her sister should have lain shackled to the floor. I found Gia had freed herself and instead of escaping with her sister had taken to torturing her twin with a steel nail she had wormed out of the woodwork. She rose to my approach and offered her sisters suffering a penance.” Out of polite curiosity Dalton asked “has she exposed you to a similar act Cassy?”
“Frequently.” Cassandra said softly, repaying Daltons honestly in kind.
Dalton resumed his task of preparing Alicia, rolling her onto her back. His audience was a captivated captive and he continued his tail.
“I thought it special, and she was (and is) beyond beautiful. So I asked my father if I could keep her as a pet now that her twin was ruined. He agreed believing I would tire of Gia. And that night Gia and I roasted her twin. Gia’s only request that she be the one to eat her sex. We made love many times that night and in the morning as well.” As he spoke he pour some oil onto Alicia’s belly and then spread it around her breast with the brush.
Cassandra found the smell of the herbs appetizing, but the meat had not yet taken on the same appeal to her, despite always having its tender, sweet taste.
“We grew close.” Dalton continued. “And my father became concerned I was developing feelings for her. He told me I was to have her roasted and served for him.” Dalton stepped back and digressed from the main narrative. “You have to understand my father is a very proud man and feared I would develop sentimental feelings for a failed project. Gia was something to be erased in his mind.” The break in narrative over he resumed basting, this times coating Alicia’s firm legs. Alicia staring at him intently as if trying to will his attention. “Gia overheard the command from my father, but I did not have a chance to sentence my lover to the oven. As I looked for her to break the sad news a Servant offer her whereabouts. She had gone immediately to the kitchen and demanded to be cooked.”
Cassandra could tell Dalton was pleased as her mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Hearing this I ran to the kitchen where the delicious aroma told me Gia was in the oven roasting away. But for the first time I could remember the idea of the meat did not fill me with excitement. I felt sad that I was about to lose my lover.” Dalton stood up straight and adopted a bold expression almost (almost) childish for his years. “In an instance I tore open the oven door and grabbed the tray despite the heat.” He held up his hands so Cassandra could see scars covering the palm of his hands. “I pulled her out of the oven and carried her to a table a lot like this one.” Dalton withdrew from the conversation his work on Alicia almost finished.
“Then what happened?” Cassandra asked, forgetting herself.
“Then” Dalton said “my father walked in and found me crying in Gia’s arms. He saw her comforting me with what little strength she had, and knew from my pleas, directed at Gia, for forgiveness that I loved her.” Dalton finished the basting of Alicia, but Cassandra guess from the amount of oil left there would be another coat after she had cooked for a while. “Once she recovered she resumed her training as House Keeper at my father’s disgust. Hoping distance would break our bond my father sent her to the Autumn Estate. Within in a year she had usurped its caretaker and has been amassing influence ever since, the Estate firmly hers now. My father has made many attempts to replace her. Lilianna was educated in sadism for the sole purpose of usurping Gia. But she fell firmly under Gia’s control.”
Cassandra gave herself a moment of reflection at the story. She realized that Dalton was waiting for something. Scanning the room she noticed Dalton was looking at a pile of thick twine beside her. Believing that Dalton wished to see obedience she grabbed it and carried it towards him.
Dalton nodded and took the twine, unwinding it. “The question you should have asked is; what does Gia want with me?”
Cassandra flushed again, this time white. Her mouth stuttered, not sure if she should ask.
Dalton began winding the twine around Alicia’s ankles. It was obvious he was going to remove her paralysis so she would feel herself roast. As he finished and moved onto her wrists he smiled and looked up at Cassandra. “Too late to ask now. Perhaps another time.” His victim secured he tilted her head and removed the pins. Like a fireman carrying an unconscious body he lifted her up and placed her in a large tray.
The swelling of her spinal cord obvious began to subside as Cassandra could see Alicia begin twitching.
“Let's see what she has to say.” Dalton said, obviously from experience timing his comment to the moment Alicia found her voice.
Alicia groaned and gasped before saying “Why. Dalton please why.” The tears came fresh and she stared desperately at Dalton.
Coldly Dalton looked up at Cassandra. “One of the first things you’ll notice about the Society is that the meat seldom says anything original.” Unceremoniously Dalton opened the oven door and lifted the tray into it. Ignoring Alicia’s pleas he closed the door and her distress turned to panic and pain.
Dalton did not hesitate for a second, but immediately started to clean the table Alicia had lain on. “Right” he said, “Since you’re here you can help.”
Cassandra rose from her perch position ready to work.
“Lay on the table please.” Dalton said.
Cassandra froze momentarily. If Dalton could so quickly turn on Alicia after six months together what chance did she have?
Dalton grinned at her hesitation. “There’s no room in the oven for you Cassy. Lay on the table please.”
Cassandra stepped forward hesitantly and slowly climbed up till she lay right where Alicia had. She could feel the remnants of Alicia’s warm body against her back. She pierced her lips and eyed Dalton cautiously.
“Alicia needs all her strength to survive the roasting. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind giving me some of your blood to make gravy.” He produced a needle and some tubing.
The needle was stainless steel and glass and obviously kept for this very purpose. Cassandra knew there was no answer other than yes. Fear made her say “Need you ask.” And she eyed him with suspicion.
Dalton stopped grinning. “Cassy I’m not going to hurt you.” As Cassandra tried to look intimidating to discourage him Dalton laughed. “Oh Cassy you’re too much.”
As grabbed her ankle and pulled her legs apart, Cassandra realize he was going to try to find her femoral artery. She gasped nervously, but also slightly excited by the commanding man stroking her in thigh so close to her naked sex. The weird excitement continued as the sharp prick of the needle broke through her soft white skin. She gasped and looked at Dalton.
Dalton was positioning the tube into a saucepan. He released the valve and crimson blood flowed through the apparatus. Once the trickle had started he looked at Cassandra. “Do you know what I see at this very moment Cassandra?”
Cassandra bottom lip shook in response. She did not take her eyes of Dalton’s as he leaned in and gentle placed his index finger between the lips of her labia.
Dalton worked the finger up and down as Cassandra held her breath. “I see a very smart and pretty girl whose equal parts afraid and excited.”
As Dalton removed his finger Cassandra looked at it. Its tip was shiny with her vaginal fluid. Cassandra would have blushed save the blood flowing out of her inner thigh. Dalton beamed a huge smile and closed the valve on the needle.
“That should be enough. Thank you very much Cassy.” He pulled the needle out. In the brief time of the transfusion the saucepan had been adequately filled.
Cassandra tried to get up, but felt light head. Dalton seeing her vulnerability placed the saucepan down and came to her side to help her to her feet.
“I think you should have a lie down before dinner. If Gia protests tell her I insisted.”
Cassandra took shuffling steps trying to keep her balance. As she reached the door of the kitchen she turned. “Thank you Dalton. And thank you for your story.”
“My pleasure Cassy. I’ll see you at dinner.”
Chapter 6.
Cassandra awoke to gentle knocking on her door. She sat up, her peaceful moment drained by Gia’s voice.
“Cassy. Dinner will be served in five minutes.” Her voice was polite and friendly.
Cassandra shut her eyes to remove her feeling of fatigue. “Thank you Gia” she replied to prevent her entering the room.
She lay on her bed, still in the lingerie. Realizing her imminent duty to entertain she rose, still a little light headed, and looked at herself in the mirror. Her slumber had mangled her hair and she quickly brushed it. Once she had straightened it she repeated the process of earlier in the day, staring into the mirror to her face had a natural expression of graceful ease. Slowly she walked to the door and opened it.
The smell met her instantly. Alicia lay on a platter in the centre of the dining table, steaming a succulent smell. Her body glistens from the glazing and her soft whimpers could be heard over Dalton and Gia’s fluid conversation.
As Cassandra closed her bedroom door they heard the click of the latch and both turned smiling at her. “I hope I’m not interrupting.” She said addressing the couple who sat either end of the long table. A spare seat was positioned in the middle of the table’s side for Cassandra.
“Of course not dear.” Gia said and gestured to the chair. “We were just discussing your future.”
Cassandra politely accepted the seat and sat directly in front of the dying Alicia. Her head was tilted to the side and she had the same look of desperation Cassandra had come to custom with at the Autumn Estate. She knew she was too damaged to survive, but also not yet about to die. Cassandra wondered how many time Alicia had dined with Dalton over the six months they were together. She suspect Alicia knew only too well what would come next.
“Gia and I feel we should further direct your education.” Dalton said interjecting Cassandra’s thought. “Some subjects we feel positive you should study, whilst others you will be free to choose yourself.”
Cassandra collected her thoughts. “That’s very generous of you both.” She said politely, and then submissively said “Which University should I attend. The surrender of her future intended to lengthen her life span.
“Dalton has some friends at Harvard.” Gia said.
“Harvard?” Cassandra questioned, and then realized it was a mistake. She looked down and placed her hands in her laps as a sign of her apology at questioning.
Gia smiled at her gesture contrition. “Yes. I know a University like Brown would be more suited to a young lady of your intelligence and breeding, but we have plans for you that involve Harvard.”
“It’s very kind of you to have given me such thought.” Cassandra said. A University degree meant the chance of a long term plan that would see her freed from a fate like Alicia’s. Cassandra knew it was at the very least a good sign. She decided to offer Gia something in return “Shall we eat” she said.
Both Gia and Dalton became animated at her signal. Gia unfolded a napkin over her dress and Dalton rose and walked towards Alicia. The steaming strumpet’s whimpering turned to moans of panic as Daltons gripped a carving fork and knife. As Dalton perched over Alicia he said “Gia?” enquiring what cut she would prefer.
“Need you ask?” Gia replied, and Dalton slowly pressed the blade against Alicia’s flat belly just above her sex.
The distress of the scene as Alicia turned her head from side to side and moaned in misery was testament to Dalton skill at cooking. Like the other times there was a flood of juices from the wound as he expertly carved around her vagina producing Gia favorite cut. He balanced the removed flesh on the blade of the knife and transported it to Gia’s plate. Returning to the centre of the table her looked expectantly at Cassandra.
“What would you recommend?” Cassandra said without delay. It was what she thought Dalton wanted to hear. She was right.
Without delay Dalton punctured Alicia’s shallow left breast and carved from her midriff to shoulder. The blade was so sharp he didn’t have to apply any visible pressure. The pancake like meat was delivered to her plate. As if to prove it was the best cut he immediately removed the second breast for himself as Alicia’s breathing became labored with the shock of the damage.
Before sitting Dalton picked up and silver gravy boat and poured a healthy serve of Gia, Cassandra’s and his own meal. Cassandra looked at the gravy but fought back her unease at its origin. She hesitated in eating only to let Gia taste first and then ate with polite haste.
She had correctly assumed she should not speak at dinner, but instead listened to Dalton and Gia discuss a racehorse and the stock market. It was simple conversation that struck a contrast as Cassandra watched Alicia die before they had finished their meal.
Gia wiped her lips with her napkin and stood. Dalton imitated her. Gia turned to Cassandra and said “Dalton and I are going to retire for the evening. Feel free to watch TV or listen to Music. We will see you in the morning.” She extended her hand and Dalton stepped to take it. Hand in hand the pair walked to the Master bedroom and closed the door.
Chapter 7.
The phone rang beside Cassandra’s bed. The same sensation of being summoned at the estate struck her and she picked it up quickly fearing punishment.
“Yes.” She said expecting instruction.
“Good morning Cassy.” Dalton’s voice came at the other end. “Come into the Master bedroom I want to show you something.” He hung up the phone without pause.
Cassandra quickly rose and took a dressing gown from the closet. She wrapped it around herself and walked into the main room of the penthouse towards the Master bedroom. The main room had been stripped of the table settings and its contents during the night. Cassandra briefly wondered who amongst the hotel staff were aware of the Society.
As she reached the master bedroom she gently knocked on the door.
“Enter” came Dalton’s voice as he spoke softly.
Cassandra peaked her head through the door and saw both Gia and Dalton lying naked on the huge bed. Dalton lay on his back and Gia seemed to be draped around him, an arm and her beautiful leg crossing his body. She was asleep.
“Come in” Dalton urged and Cassandra gently stepped towards the bed her eye widened in bewilderment.
Gia had an expression of peace on her face. Relaxed from its appearance of standing she seemed like a sleeping beauty. Tranquil and at peace with the world.
“How would you describe your Mistress having seen her as she is now?”
Cassandra tried hard to find the words. “She’s even more untouchable at ease.” She finally said. The situation was an oxymoron; at a moment of vulnerability Gia true beauty came out.
“Because I like you Cassy, I’m going to tell you; if you wish to be free again, you must put Gia at ease.” He looked at her sternly. “Eventually she will tire of your act, no matter how clever it is.”
Cassandra was shaken at the thought that her stretch for survival was view as an act. For the immediate time it was acceptable, but she would have to somehow make life in the Internship what she really wanted, rather than a series of trails to survive.
She immediately took the first step. “Thank you Dalton. I will meditate hard upon your advice.” She said it with sincerity and Dalton smiled like a proud parent. Cassandra knew she had made a valuable friend somehow.
As if on cue Gia stirred awake. As with everything she did so gracefully. Immediately she asked. “Why is Cassy here? You’re not having her breakfast.” It was said in flirtation, but had the impact of an order.
“Oh come one.” Dalton said teasingly. “I let you eat Alicia.”
“Alicia was a little nymph. Cassy is going to be so much more.” As she said it she rolled onto Dalton, spreading her legs either side of him so she knelt above him.
Cassandra realized the two were about to make love (because she now saw it was love) again, and started backing out the door.
As she stepped out Gia called “You didn’t look at his penis Cassy.” From Cassandra view she saw Gia rise up and then lower herself with a sigh, clearing burying that very thing inside her. “Treat all my friends with the same respect Cassy.”
As they both started to breath heavily Cassandra closed the door behind her and softly said “Yes Mistress.”
Epilogue.
Despite his joke about breakfast Dalton left shortly after Gia emerged from the bedroom. Cassandra and her Mistress ate breakfast in silence, and it gave Cassandra time to think about genuinely becoming a member of the Society and saving herself. Despite Dalton making it sound easy Cassandra suspected she would have to make Gia love her.
Having finished the innocent meal Gia asked Cassandra, “Is there anything you’d like done back at the estate?”
Cassandra, not knowing what to say was honest, “In regards to what specifically.”
“Lilianna of course. If you don’t give her some orders she will forget you own her.”
“Oh.” Cassandra thought for a moment. Realistically she had no desire to make Lilianna do anything. Punishing or humiliating her would make her more of an enemy, and generosity would be wasted on a sadist. Cassandra thought of Anetta who had helped her navigate the Estate and its staff. “Please ask her to lighten the Maid Anetta duties and give her some leisure time.”
“Anetta does not understand leisure; she will most likely sit in a corner and watch the servants work.” Gia took a sip from her coffee and walked to a purse on a stand by the window. As she returned she produced a business card and hand it to the seat Cassy. “This is my number. I want you to call me when you arrive in Cambridge for the semester, and when you’ve decided what leisure time your little friend should have. On the back is the address of the House you will be yours for the duration of your time at Harvard. The time before semester starts is yours to do with as you please. Go back to Mexico if you like.”
Cassandra silently accepted the card.
Gia reached into her purse and pulled a platinum silver credit card. “You may use this to purchase whatever you need. I suggest going shopping before you leave New York.”
“Thank you Mistress I will do that.” Cassandra looked up at the woman who was both her guardian and tormentor. “I do want to make you happy Gia.” Cassandra was telling the truth, even if her words came from her incentive to stay off the dinner table; she sounded sincere.
The motive behind the words did not escape Gia’s notice. “We’ll see Cassy” she said, but smiled with a trace of affection.
The White Glove Society 5: The Turning. (Part 1)
By ninja5
Introduction.
“As you can see; spacious dinning and entertaining areas with fully kitted, isolated kitchen; so it doesn’t take from the mid century urban style of the place.” The realtor guided Cassandra into the large dining room, complete with mantled fire place and a large Redwood table. “The bedroom and quest rooms are also of a classic style, but don’t worry, like the kitchen; the bathrooms are fully modern. There’s even a hotub.” The realtor posed like an airhostess. Her tight, knee length skirt and showed of a comely figure and Cassandra guessed her white blouses top buttons would be undone for male clients.
“It’s wonderful, thank you.” Cassandra said admiring the décor. “Forgive me for asking, to whom is the rent paid?”
The realtor looked startled. “Oh no, you misunderstand. The property is owned by a Miss Gia Eros; my real estate company just handles the maintenance of the grounds, though I have been told the cleaners have been informed they will not be needed.” With a mechanical tilt of the head the Realtor, Renee (from her name tag), pompously said “Didn’t Miss Eros tell you?”
“I’m afraid Miss Eros was brief with the details.” Cassandra said confidently. She did not like Renee. “What’s behind the door?”
“Which door?” Renee said answering her question with a question.
“The one your body language is directing me away from.” Cassandra pointed to a heavy wooden door with a latch for a padlock.
“Oh that. That’s…”
Cassandra did not care to listen to the excuses of this Renee and walked to the door. It required effort to open, and the staircase before her led downward into darkness. She felt for the switch and lit the path down.
A single light bulb illuminated a cold room with concreted walls. Knowing by the steel eyelet (suitable for holding a shackles chain) in the centre of the basement dungeon what the room was for she closed the door. Renee was right by her side looking pensive. No doubt she would receive a healthy bonus from Gia if Cassandra liked the place and nothing if the room discouraged her.
“Did I mention it has a hotub upstairs?” Renee said like a cheesy salesman.
Cassandra really didn’t like Renee, but she didn’t let it show. “Thank you, I’d love to stay here.”
Renee smiled “Wonderful. There’s no paper work to sign.” Renee handed Cassandra a set of keys. “One more thing.” She said as Cassandra turned to explore upstairs. “A young man named Randy dropped a large package off upstairs before you arrived.” She started playing with her blond hair and Cassandra guess she’d been taken by Randy’s annoying good looks. “Is he a friend of yours?” She asked, clearly fishing for information on the handsome stranger.
“I don’t know?” Cassandra said, wondering what was in the package.
Renee seemed disheveled by the vagueness of Cassandra’s answer. “He left his card for you.” She said and extended a bone white business card.
“Why don’t you keep it Renee?” She said.
“Oh, I couldn’t.” She blushed. “It’s not professional.”
Cassandra faked a friendly smile. “Oh, please. He’s a Kennedy.” Cassandra winked at Renee whose mouth opened.
“As in The Kennedy’s?” She said clearly excited by the mythos around the name. It almost certainly guaranteed she would call the number on the card.
“Just be discrete. He likes to keep things a secret.” Cassandra said, knowing exactly what she was doing. She knew only familiarity as an accessory to murder would remove the hesitation in her smile over dinner and perhaps offering Renee to him would act as compensation for snubbing him.
Renee beamed a smile and left after a polite farewell, leaving Cassandra to explore upstairs.
The Master bedroom, her bedroom, had a king-size bed, made from the same wood as the dining table. Knowing Gia as she did, she knew it was a message. The bed had posts that extended up the ceiling, supporting a white cotton canopy. A large suitcase lay on the mattress with a red ribbon around it. Cassandra knew it was the package Randy must have dropped off. No doubt it would contain some form of erotica. Not wanting to put off the unknown she zipped it open and gasped at the contents her expectation not taking away from her surprise.
Don in her revealing Maids outfit, her personnel attendant Anetta had been stuffed in the large travel case. She was curled in the fetal position around an aluminum canister attached to an oxygen mask. Hastily she shook her petite companion with no response. She notice a red epi-pen attached to the lid of the travel case. She yanked it off and without delay twisted the end to release the needle and stabbed it into Anetta buttocks.
The little maid’s eyes darted open, her breathing, which had not been noticeable, turned to frantic gasps for air. As Anetta stretch out her arm Cassandra lent over pulled on it allowing her Maid to sit up in the case. She seemed dazed, her eyes now rested half shut and Cassandra immediate concern was that she was sick from dehydration. If she had been transported all the way from the Autumn Estate she could have been in there for over two days. Using all her strength she pulled the little Maids out of the case and laid her on the bed.
“Lay here.” She ordered as Anetta made a weak effort to get up.
Cassandra rushed down the wooden stairs and opened the fridge. It contained several bottles of spring water as if they would be needed. She grabbed one before returning up the stairs. As she returned to the bedroom Anetta lay panting in clear distress. Cassandra removed the cap of the bottle and held it to Anetta’s lips. Anetta began to skull the bottle, and action interrupted only to gasp for air again. Cassandra grabbed the oxygen bottle, which read near empty, and the case and put them under the bed. A gesture to indicate the ordeal was over.
“Are you Ok Anetta?” Cassandra asked, tracing the little Maids hair out off her eyes to examine her. She was clearly distressed, but knowing nothing but servitude seemed emotionally whole.
“Yes Mistress.” She said and drank again from the bottle.
“Who put in that case Anetta?” Cassandra asked wanting to know who had hurt the closest thing she had to a friend.
Anetta blinked and looked away, obviously afraid of crossing a superior.
“No one will hurt you if you tell me Anetta. Who did this?”
“Lilianna said I was to care for your house.” She said naming the culprit but refraining from implicating guilt. As Cassandra looked at her with concern she gained a little courage. “She said there was no other way because I don’t exist.”
Despite her empathy for her little Maid, Cassandra knew that Anetta had been breed and born a slave with no nationality or identity. She had no date of birth or family name to put on a passport. And even if they could, Anetta had never stepped out of Society compounds.
Cassandra lent forward and kissed her of the check. “You’re safe now. I want you to rest. I’ll go get us some food.” As Cassandra rose to leave the Maid caution made her turn. “You’re not to answer the door whilst I’m gone. You need your rest.”
Anetta weakly nodded and then rested her head against the pillow.
Cassandra walked down the stair towards the front door where her town car was still waiting with her belongings. She locked the door and walked up to the driver. “Charles, I wish to do some shopping for food, I’ll be eating in tonight.”
“So soon Miss Blake. I’d advise waiting to nightfall or we may be seen.” Charles replied as he opened the door for her clearly confusing her definition of food.
“Regular food Charles.” She corrected him. “I think there was a Deli on the Main Street.”
Chapter 1.
Cassandra sat in the kitchen reading the paper whilst Anetta worked away at bench cooking two eggs, her maid outfit replace with a casual summer dress. The clothes she had bought suited Anetta, but were meant for a different time of year. Cassandra had arrived in the house on a Friday which left only the Saturday to go shopping and organize her curriculum. She’d made an attempt to walk Anetta to the Main Street on Sunday, but the fragile girl panicked every time a car drove by and shrieked in terror at a middle-aged jogger. Cassandra ended up abandoning the exercise; instead they sat on the front lawn of her new place, together, so she could receive some exposure to the outside world. Cassandra held Anetta’s hand and every time a neighbor walked by; or a car drove down the street, Anetta would hide her head in her lap and squeeze Cassandra’s hand in panic. Cassandra knew it would be sometime before she could handle even simple tasks in the real world like going to the shops to buy things.
Anetta placed a plate with eggs and toast in front of Cassandra who looked up and said “Sit” to her little Maid. As Anetta sat next to her, Cassandra pushed the plate in front of her. Effectively tricking her into cooking her own breakfast. Anetta looked baffled but obeyed the command of “Eat.” Cassandra was still worried she had not regained all her strength after her ordeal in the suitcase. Cassandra rose and collected her bag. “There’s little work to be done, so when you’ve eaten all of that go upstairs and pick a book to read.”
Anetta, who obviously was hungry from the haste with which she ate nodded in understanding and gave Cassandra a sweet little smile.
“Remember; don’t answer the door unless it’s me.”
“Yes Mistress.” Anetta said between mouthfuls.
It occurred to Cassandra that Anetta’s slack posture and interest in the food was a sign that she felt comfortable seeking her own needs around her. It felt like a step in the right direction. She had no interest in dominating the Maid who had helped her survive the first two dangerous weeks on being Gia’s property, and the act of giving her liberties seemed to make up a little for the card Anetta had been dealt in life.
As she walked out the front door she noticed the town car wasn’t there. It didn’t surprise her. Charles and his Rolls Royce Phantom appeared at inexplicable times, a reminder that Gia controlled the direction of her life, but also made imprisonment comfortable for her. She began the walk to school running over her timetable in her head. Her first class was Art Appreciation, a class selected for her by Gia. Having no way to understand the game she was caught up in she had assumed it was to simply give her knowledge of the finer things. She contemplated what would happen if she failed a subject that had been selected for her by Gia, and suspected it was not in her interest to missed even a single class.
After a Fifteen minute walk she entered the University grounds and had to consult her orientation map as to which room she had her class. After she had confirmed her destination and time she walked to class. The nervous freshmen wandering around asking directions seemed to be on edge, and Cassandra allowed herself a small smile at the thought that their idea of stress was far from the extremes she had experienced. As she turned a corner to the auditorium her first lecture was in she followed a line of students funneling in. No one really spoke to each other, but a few struck up awkward conversations, their nerves showing in their voices.
As she entered the room she walked towards a group of empty seats in the middle left and pulled out her notebook. Then she heard his voice “Take your seats please, we want to get started.”
“Dalton!” She said out loud, surprised by the voice of Dalton Monroe as he addressed the class. A lecturers name had not been listed in her timetable and she had not thought to check. She looked up and saw the figure of her Mistresses lover standing in front of the class wearing a tweed suit, complete with lever elbow pads. Despite the cliché he still struck a handsome figure.
Dalton’s voice interrupted her thoughts as the last few students sat in seats. “My name is Professor Dalton Monroe. I will be teaching you for the first semester of this course and I hope to cover the basics of……..”
Cassandra’s heart raced, it had never occurred to her that Dalton had any type of job outside the Society. Had is position hear effected Gia’s choice of Universities. Flustered she tried to listen to what he was saying as students began to scribble notes on folders. Cassandra took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a second, as she opened them the world seemed a little calmer, Daltons voice became audible over her heartbeat and she picked up her pen; ready to study.
Pushing her personal knowledge of the lecturer aside Cassandra began to scribble the course outline down in her notebook. Neolithic art; Hieroglyph; Portrayal of Deities and Royals in cradle civilization………… Her notes were interrupted by humming in front of her.
A curvaceous girl, from the row in front, was humming as she watched Dalton; her finger curling her raven hair. It was loud enough for other students to turn around and investigate, but it didn’t sway Dalton who continued to talk. He did glare at the girl’s direction with angry eyes, but made no attempt to stop her behavior. Cassandra concentrated and continued taking notes.
After outlining the syllabus Dalton for the first time moved behind the podium. “That’s all we’ll cover for today. We’ll get into the meat of it next lecture. If you want to get ahead read the introduction in your textbook, and I hope you enjoy this class.” Dalton gestured with his arms the end of class and everyone began to rise. As Cassandra debated whether or not to approach him he spoke up again. “Could Cassandra Blake and the young lady who was humming please stay behind.”
Cassandra sat back down. The black haired girl in front of her had not moved at all, now she had the tip of her pencil in her mouth provocatively, chewing the end, she seemed completely calm.
As the final few students left Cassandra collected her things and walked to the front of the class were Dalton was now sitting in a chair waiting for her and the hummer. As she walked down the stairs the hummer rose and followed her.
Dalton had seated himself in the front row of the lecture theatre and Cassandra had to approach him facing the auditorium. The curvy brunette stood back awaiting her summons, but Cassandra smiled and walked up to Dalton. “It’s such a surprise to learn that you lecture here Dalton.” She said and self consciously curtsied despite the stranger watching behind her.
Dalton looked up at her. He looked her up and down. “It’s Professor Monroe whilst you are my student Miss Blake.” He said seriously.
Cassandra faced took on a concerned look. She knew what was happening. The game of her submission followed by reward was to create dependence on her retainers. It was something she tried to remain conscious of knowing if she forgot she would be lost to them. But still, Dalton’s formal tone wounded her. She had hoped he was someone who would help her navigate Gia’s secret plan.
“Stephanie Benson.” Dalton said looking past Cassandra. Immediately she felt more unimportant and the brunette behind her marched forward. Cassandra noted the mischievous grin on her face; her body language was extremely explicated of sexual arousal.
She stood in front of the seated Professor. “You were disrupting my class Miss Benson; I think you know what that means.”
Without hesitation the girl pulled up her skirt revealing shapely muscular legs and a healthy bottom. As if used to the action she casually lay across Dalton’s lap, her bare buttock (clad only by a g-string) lay exposed to Dalton. “This is the third year you have taken my class, how do you keep getting in?”
Stephanie said nothing and Dalton gave the smooth pale skin of her buttocks a pinch. She squealed and giggled, illustrating the distraction in class was only a rouse to insight this very situation.
Once her giggle had subsided Dalton raised his open palm and spanked her buttons. Another squeal of delight. The spanking continued until the pleasure left Stephanie’s vocalizations began to turn. Her cheeks were now bright red and it was clear the pain was starting to cause distress. Dalton halted the action before her distress became cries of pain. He placed his arm under her shoulder and lifted her up, helping her to her feet. Her skirt fell back down around her legs and covered her bright red cheeks. Despite her punishment she regained her sultry smile.
Dalton exhaled in mild frustration at the failure of his discipline. “Go Stephanie.” He said pointing to the exit. I need to talk with Miss Blake.”
Stephanie turned and exited smiling at Cassandra, but with a hint of jealousy at the attention she was receiving from Dalton.
Dalton remained silent until the door clicked close behind Stephanie. The moment they were alone he rose and opened his arms to hug Cassandra. The motion took her off guard and she found herself startled. Dalton chuckled at this. “I’m sorry I was so formal in front of Stephanie. She has a bit of a crush on me.” He stepped back and Cassandra worried her lack of openness to the affection may have not conveyed the appropriate demeanor.
He didn’t seem fazed. “I wanted to let you know, that even though you are expected to get straight A’s in your selected classes that I’ll go easy on you. As long as your work is competent you’ll get a high mark.”
“Thank you.” Cassandra said, and produced another little curtsey.
Dalton smiled at the outdated gesture of respect. “You will need to concentrate on being able to translate the course content into intelligent conversation for Gia though. Make friends with your class mates and provoke these kinds of conversations to practice. Also I want you to enroll in an art class for your own sake. Do you know how to draw?”
“Yes. I was quiet good at it in high school.”
“Excellent. I’ll get you into Harvard’s Art Club.”
Cassandra nodded to show she understood this is what Gia wanted her to get out of the class.
“That is all Miss Blake.” He said resuming his formal tone. Cassandra turned to leave, but as she did so Dalton made her hesitate in motion by saying. “Try to dress more seductively.” Cassandra turned back. “That is why Gia sent you the Maid. You need to learn how to seduce people by appearance as well as with your mind.”
Cassandra nodded again, and as Dalton walked to his things she took her queue to exit.
Chapter 2.
Over the coming weeks Cassandra attend all her classes diligently. She completed all her assignments and chose intelligent friends from the classes selected for her to practice her conversational skills, to the point she could debate with lecturers. She had joined the Harvard Art Society and taken several drawing classes like Dalton had suggested. He seemed very impressed with the sketches she had shown him. She had even drawn one of him and Gia in the morning; Gia’s body draped around him in peaceful affection (the scene she had witnessed in the Hyatt whilst in New York with Gia). Dalton had been thrilled at the gift, but strangely request Cassandra draw a self portrait of her restrain on Gia’s Saint Andrew’s Cross, vulnerable and about to be tortured for his next gift.
Cassandra had also taken Dalton’s advice and decided to make herself more seductive. On days were the climate was mild she wore short skirts and tight dresses. During the colder days Anetta excelled at selecting sweaters, skirts and slacks that complemented her figure. She had been asked out by several students, both freshmen and senior, but not wanting to expose them to her secret, kept her distance. She had acquired an early reputation as a heartbreaker, and the young women in her classes either hated her, or admired her for it.
Anetta worked away at her hair applying the peroxide as you would shampoo. It would be followed by a tint after rinsing to turn her platinum blond, a way of refreshing her look. Her natural dirty blond hair suited her, but she felt the lighter shade would make her more distinct in men’s eyes.
“Are you going to be dining at this party?” Anetta asked as she worked.
“Just pizza. Most likely I’ll come home hungry.” She replied. It had turned out that Anetta had only discovered pizza upon moving into Cassandra’s house to serve her. It had quickly become her favorite food. Cassandra left cash in a small tin in the kitchen so she could order it when Cassandra wasn’t home. With the reward of pizza, Anetta had taken the giant step of opening the door for the pizza delivery men and on occasions even talked to them. Cassandra had allowed Anetta to watch television as well, but had used the parental control system to prevent her from watching anything that may shock her. She hoped that with time Anetta would be ready to spend time in the outside world. She tested her occasionally, sitting on the front lawn. Anetta had stopped cowering at passersby, but Cassandra was waiting until she could respond to their waves of greeting before she attempted to take her to the shops again.
“What kind of party is it?” Anetta asked interested. It showed that whilst Anetta was capable of intelligent thought. She had become aware of her ignorance of the world and so, asked questions.
“It’s a pretend sleepover party for one of the sorority houses. We all come dressed in our pajamas, drink, and talk about boys we want to sleep with.” Cassandra stopped for a moment. “A friend from my Economics class invited me.”
But Anetta slowed her work, “What boys do you want to sleep with?”
The question upset Cassandra, though she didn’t show it, hesitant to halter her Maids curiosity. “The only man I answer to is Professor Monroe, and he loves Gia.” She said, avoiding the question.
Anetta finished her task. “We have to leave it in for five minutes then rinse.” She said and smiled.
“Thank you Anetta.” She said and smiled back at her Maid. “You always do a very good job.”
Chapter 3.
The taxi driver looked at Cassandra in the rear view mirror. Cassandra couldn’t tell if he was admiring her or just perplexed by her attire. She wore a dressing gown over her bedtime pajamas. She felt they might be a little more erotic than what everyone else was wearing, but she lived with the sensation that Gia was constantly watching her. She had to wear what she thought Gia would want her to wear.
The cab pulled up at the Sorority House. Despite being a house filled with young partying university students, the building looked respectable on the outside. She paid the cabby and stepped out of it, joining a couple of other young women wearing pajamas (one carrying a teddy bear) who were walking to the door which opened before any of them had knocked. Cassandra’s friend opened it and they touched cheeks kissing the air, the other girls entering without a personal greeting.
“So glad you could make it Cassy. I love what you’ve done with your hair.” She said. As her friend extended her arm to place her dressing gown in the coatroom she bit her lip as Cassandra revealed herself.
Cassandra wore a tiny white T-shirt that showed the delicate and subtle curves of her waist. Its hem reached just to lace of a white pare of knickers. Though not transparent, the shaved line of her vagina could be seen if you stared.
Cassandra grew concerned at the look. “Too much” she said, not relinquishing her grip on the night gown.
“Well we have a couple of lesbian sisters.” She said looking apologetic for her shock. “They’re gonna love you.” She playfully pulled away the gown and flung it in the cloakroom, sentencing her friend to a night of exposure.
Cassandra gave a playful look of annoyance and accepted her fate. She had little to worry about from a house of girls and she’d been in far more perilous situations in a lot less.
Cassandra’s friend got called away to a group of girls playing with a Nintendo Wii. As she left Cassandra alone she turned back and said, “Drinks are in the kitchen.”
Cassandra nodded in understanding and explored the house, looking for the kitchen.
As she walked deeper into the house a couple of girls stopped talking to look at her. Cassandra smiled politely but knew they were shocked by her lack of attire. It was balanced out by the friendly looks she got from most other girls there. After a short walk she sighted a door that no doubt led into the kitchen. As she pushed the lose hinge to enter she was met with a familiar face.
Stephanie Benson lent against the kitchen table, alone, sipping a candy red drink from a disposable cup. Their eyes met in recognition, but only briefly as and Cassandra looked her up and down. She wore a black woolen halter top tide in the middle (it looked more like a bikini) and a plaid miniskirt with fishnet stockings. Cassandra jealously also took in her measurements 34D-23-36. Above her left hip was in intricate tattoo of a skull bordered by vines of roses.
Stephanie saw her looking her over and did the same. “Lace panties… Really?”
Cassandra stood straight; they were alone in the room. “This is what I sleep in. And you, you sleep in that?”
Stephanie widened her eyes. She had a distinct emo style, “It depends who I’m sleeping with.” She replied boldly.
Cassandra tried to detach from the conversation by picking up a cup and pouring some vodka into it. “Nice tattoo” she said, trying to remove the tension.
Stephanie turned herself so as to keep facing Cassandra, “If it was Professor Monroe in my bed, I would be wearing chains.” She seductively ran her finger over the tattoo. “He gave me this tattoo on my eighteenth birthday. “Did you know he did tattoo art?”
The question was a probe, Cassandra knew that, but it was one she did not know how to respond to.
Stephanie took her silence as guilt of something.
“He asks you to stay behind after class a lot.” She took another sip of her drink as Cassandra drank from hers trying to avoid eye contact. “Are you his lover?”
Cassandra grew alarmed at the questions. “No.” She said and turned to leave the room.
“He spanked me in front of you. He wouldn’t have done that unless you were his lover or unless you’re….”
Cassandra turned back cautiously at this unknown person who was about to casually verbalize her secret.
The girl put her drink down and smiled politely. “You’re one of us aren’t you? I should have known by how casual you are in those tiny knickers.” Her round face smiled welcoming. “I’ve been dying to hang out with someone from the Society, but the only other person at Harvard I know is a member is Randolph Kennedy.”
Cassandra was surprised at how friendly the girl had become, and how passive her body language now was. Not knowing exactly who she may be, and realizing news of their encounter could reach back to Gia she decided to reflect the friendliness. “You mean Randy?” She said knowing the answer.
“Yes. He and I dated briefly.” She said. “He was planning on eating me so I had to call it off.”
Cassandra hid the concern she showed at how casually this girl described her potential to become dinner.
“How do you know him?” She asked.
Cassandra could tell even though she maintained eye contact that peripherally she was being examined, but Stephanie Benson did not seem like a threat anymore with her bubbly mid-western personality.
“We have a mutual friend.” Cassandra said, hoping the description of Gia as a “friend” would not cost her.
“Huh” Stephanie said, as if deep in thought. “Where do you holiday?”
“The Autumn Estate.” Cassandra said, hoping her single visit counted as a holiday.
“Never been. Perhaps that’s where you met Randy.” Stephanie picked up her drink and drank from it as if the topic of Randy was not as casual as she made out. “I used to see him at the Winter Estate in Finland, but then he started going to the Autumn Estate instead.”
“I may get there one day, but to be honest I haven’t heard much about it.”
“Finish girls. Icelandic girls. The Danish ones” she said emphasizing her excitement. She touched herself with her free hand. “They suffer so well. I really like the Danish ones.”
Cassandra could see that with Stephanie it was not sadism that drove her. She had a deviant sexual streak that she obviously was comfortable with. Cassandra guessed that she liked to be watched in sexual acts most likely needing an audience to get off. The day Dalton spanked her; he wasn’t punishing her, but scratching her itch in exchange for good behavior.
“We should hang out.” She said snapping out of her trance.
The invitation surprised Cassandra. “Sure” she said not fully knowing what she was getting into.
“Ok” she said removing a pen from nowhere. She closed the gap that had been narrowing as they talked and grabbed Cassandra’s arm. On the palm of her hand she wrote her mobile telephone number. “Give us a call sometime this week. The house my dad got me has a Sauna, we can chill in it.”
“Sounds…… good?!” Cassandra said, and hoped she hadn’t in avertedly found herself in a potential sexual encounter.
Stephanie, who must have been three or four years older than Cassandra smiled at her hesitation. “You’re friendly, but you need to relax more. Trust me. I’ll teach you how to handle tricky situations.” She smiled and took her leave. As she left the kitchen she shouted to the unknowing party goers “Who wants to play spin the bottle.”
As the girls all cheered at Stephanie’s energy Cassandra looked at her number in the palm of her hand. “You need all the friends you can get Cassandra Blake” she said to herself and walked back out into the party.
Despite a night of drinking and mischief, Stephanie and Cassandra made no display comradary. They acted as if they didn’t share a dangerous secret.
Chapter 4.
Stephanie’s house was further from campus than Cassandra’s, but it looked as if it had been recently built, where as hers had a mid-century feel. Cassandra had walked to Stephanie’s house; it only took her twenty minutes. She wore sweatpants and a jogging top over of her bikini. Stephanie had insisted on her joining her in the sauna before Margaritas in a hotub; a chance for them to share notes on people and indulgences. As it had been cold the past few days of Cassandra agreed, hoping Gia would approve of her new friend. And at least, Stephanie was someone Gia wouldn’t consider food if she met her.
As she knocked on the door Stephanie’s voice sounded muffled through the heavy wood. “Coming” it chanted over again, until the door latch clicked and gave way. Stephanie stood proudly in the doorway wearing a tiny red bikini that barely covered her large round breasts. They were so close Cassandra realized she was staring at them jealously. Stephanie seemed to find Cassandra awkward interest in them satisfying, crabbed her hand and pulled her in. They stood in the entrance, the door closed and Stephanie let go of her hand. Cassandra realized, despite her friendliness she really didn’t know how to talk to Stephanie.
She tried anyway. “You’re wearing a red bikini.”
“So” Stephanie said, keeping her guest in the doorway.
“It’s just at the Autumn Estate; Red means you want to be punished.” Cassandra hoped the information would be something new to Stephanie.
Stephanie smiled. “Red means ‘punish me’ whichever Estate you go to.”
Cassandra gulped at the thought Stephanie might want her to do something to her.
“Come on.” Stephanie said. You can strip and leave your stuff in that room. I’ll wait for you by the Sauna.” Stephanie pointed down the hall to a heavy white door with a thick window.
Cassandra smiled, feeling a little uneasy at being rushed into the sauna. In the room she was told to change there were several other piles of clothes. Several pairs of jeans coupled with t-shirts, and just as many tracksuit pants and t-shirts. It gave Cassandra the feeling that other people might be in the Sauna, having striped to their swimwear before entering. Cassandra lifted one of the T-shirts and sniffed it. It smelt of body odor, but not heavily, and the smell was stale as if they had been there for a while. Cassandra, trusting Stephanie, figured they were cloths she had just failed to collect for washing. It was the first time Cassandra’s intuition failed her and it was an obvious blunder.
As she left the room she smiled at Stephanie who was waiting by the sauna’s door. She’d striped down to a white bikini, and this time is was Stephanie staring at her breasts.
“I don’t know what you were thinking about mine” she said as Cassandra walked past her into the sauna. “I like them small, these” Stephanie jiggled her breast comically “always get in the way.”
Cassandra didn’t answer and stepped past her into the room. Inside the sauna she looked around, baffled by the lack of seating apparatus. There was no bench or chairs. Puzzled she said “Where do we sit…..”
The door snapped shut behind her and the metal click of a lock snapped Cassandra’s mind into defensive mode. Stephanie’s eagerness to get her into the sauna; the piles of girls clothes never collected. “Fuck me.” Cassandra said, turned and pounded her fist of the locked doors window. On the other side Stephanie was smiling.
A buzz came from a speaker by the door. “You have some idea of what’s about to happen Cassy, so just lie down and let it happen.”
“Like hell I will you fucking bitch.” Cassandra yelled and tried to find a lever to pull on the door. There was no handle and the hinges where on the outside. The doors surface was smooth against the wall, like an interior of an oven. Desperate she kicked the door, nearly breaking her toe. She screamed angrily, but it was cut short at the hissing sound of steam flooding into the room. A wave of hot air washed over Cassandra and she realized she was about to be steam cooked.
“Cassy, I don’t want your meat to be tough from fighting. Lie down on the floor and relax so you’ll be nice and tender.”
Cassandra screamed and pounded her fist against the class.
On the other side Stephanie looked angry as if it was unreasonable that Cassandra wouldn’t cooperate.
“You want me to lie down, open this door and make me you crazy bitch.” She shouted through the door without the aid of an intercom. Tears started rolling down her face, a release from her constant, tightly strung, and emotional state.
Stephanie was on the other side of the glass, continued to look upset at Cassandra’s protests, and Cassandra briefly wondered what the other girls lured into the streamer had done.
“Cassy. Try to understand. I’ve invited someone over to eat you and I need you to be tender so I can make a good impression. I’m trying to get back together with my ex. If you lie down and relax, I’ll turn the temperature up quickly so you won’t suffer as long. If you keep fighting, I’m going to have to cook you very slowly.
Through tears of rage Cassandra screamed as loud as she could. But as she saw Stephanie’s calmness on the other side of the glass she knew no one would hear her.
The heat was getting worse. It was burning her eyes, and it hurt to breathe in. She looked down at her bare belly. It was drenched in sweet or condensation, which she couldn’t tell. She felt dizzy, but it triggered one last episode of anger. “My Mistress is going to fucking get you Stephanie.” Stephanie couldn’t hear she had already walked away leaving Cassandra to suffer slowly. Despite the futility Cassandra screamed the threat to no one, “Gia is going to fucking eat you alive.” Cassandra didn’t realize, but she had let Gia take a little more of her soul through the desperation of the circumstances. Short lived the sentiment may be. The threat was followed by Cassandra collapsing in a huddle on the grown and openly weeping. Her muscles were relaxing, despite her anger, from the enveloping heat. She’d been through so much only to loose from a moment of absent mindedness. She closed her eyes. “Never again.” She said to herself, resolving not to make another mistake. It seemed pointless given that she had just started cooking.
The heat continued in waves and her skin was bright red and drenched. She lay on the ground, spread out, trying to cool down, but with no chance. She noticed her breath was becoming shallower as her muscles continued cooking. The poorly lit steam room started to become fuzzy and Cassandra realized she was losing consciousness. Fatigued panic struck her, but the heat sucked all energy from her. She knew only too well, when she woke up she would be on a dinner table, the guest of honor at a civilized banquette. Before she closed her eyes she thought of Anetta trapped in the house. Painfully she closed her eyes, and defeated, surrendered to be cooked; all the time hoping she wouldn’t have to watch as they devoured her.
Chapter 5.
Cassandra’s eyes flickered open for a second, but closed again in the bright light, sourced from above her head.
“Cassy.” Came the familiar voice, but she couldn’t place it as her mind was very foggy. “Cassandra Blake, can you hear me?”
“Gia will fucking eat you.” She murmured in weak threat. Enough of her mind was functioning to say it. Whether it was her last memory before passing out or her final words before being eaten she didn’t know.
The voice sounded relieved. “Gia only eats women Cassy. You know that.” She felt a dull prick on her wrist. “I’m giving you something to help you wake up Ok. Try not to….”
Cassandra felt a surge of energy. All of a sudden she felt life in her limbs again and her diaphragm had a well of strength. She sat up from lying down and screamed as loud as she could. It was not the scream itself but the name she screamed that made the man at her side jump back. She sounded the name “Gia” for a few seconds and then calmed enough to look around.
She sat on a table, a pillow where she had lane. A chill breeze told her she was naked and she examined herself. Her skin was bright red, as if badly sun burnt, and her head pounded. Quickly she looked at the man by her side. It was Randy Kennedy; he was putting down a syringe and fetching a glass of water. With a passive expression he extended the glass to her.
Cassandra took it without saying anything. She drank a few mouthfuls and handed it back. “Where…” her voice ached, either from the scream or the heat from the steam room. “Where am I?” she asked. She knew if she was about to be eaten Randy would not have the concerned look on his face.
“You’re still at Stephanie’s.” Randy pulled out a pocket light and shone it in each of hers eyes examining her.
Cassandra winced at the bright light, but tried to keep her eyes open. It reminded her of something a doctor did when you had a concussion. “Why are you here?” She said and gestured for more water.
“Stephanie invited me over for dinner. When I saw you cooking I liberated you.” Randy passed the glass of water.
Cassandra drank deeply from it. Her body felt numb, but her skin burned. “Where is Stephanie?”
“Tied up on the coach. She’s in a lot of trouble for going after someone in the Society.” He placed two fingers on her neck. He was checking her pulse.
Cassandra submitted to Randy’s touch. With the water her mind had cleared enough for her to take in her nudity. Despite Randy’s presence she did not feel vulnerable, he was acting like a doctor and so naturally it felt comfortable. “How did you learn all this stuff Randy?”
“Pre-Med remember. Top of my class. Though anything is possible when you’ve been cutting women open and stitching them back up since your eighteenth birthday.” Randy paused and now started looking at Cassandra sitting in her birthday suit.
“Randy!” Cassandra objected.
Randy laughed. “Come on Cassy. I’ve seen plenty of you; you’ve been lying there for almost a day. You know I almost came too late to recue you. Twenty more minutes and you’d have been…..”
“An entire day?!” Cassandra said. She thought of Anetta and what she must be doing. “We’ve got to go to my place. NOW!” Cassandra tried to stand up, but as her feet hit the ground her legs buckled.
Randy caught her and lifted her up. “You can’t go. I’ve got to keep an eye on you.”
“I’ve got to let Anetta know where I am.”
“Who?”
“My Maid. She’ll be freaking out.”
Randy looked confused. “Who cares what a Maid thinks…..”
“Randy. You are taking me home now.” She tried to take a step despite Randy holding her still. “Randy, please. Take me home.” She stared into Randy’s eyes, letting her emotional vulnerability show.
Randy stared back at her. They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment before Cassandra need seemed to shift him. “Ok. I’ll take you home.”
“Get my clothes. There in the first room to the left of the entrance.” Cassandra said and leaned back against the table. For some reason she didn’t feel she had to use her manners when talking to Randy. She spoke bluntly, and he seemed happy to obey.
Randy left to collect her clothes. When he returned he had the wrong set. They belong to one of the piles left by girls lured into Stephanie’s steam cooker; most likely someone Randy had help eat.
Cassandra didn’t point out his mistake, but took them along with her mobile phone. The clothes fitted and as Randy walked by her side the pair walked past the Stephanie’s living room towards the front door. A moan came from the living room, and Cassandra turned to look.
Hogtied on the coach Stephanie lay naked and unconscious. The moaning an involuntarily sign of pain. Cassandra noticed the elongated, curved cut above Stephanie’s tattoo on her waist. It was neatly stitched and the wound looked fresh.
“What did you do to her?” She asked as Randy opened the front door onto the twilight of the evening.
“She tried to eat something of Gia’s, so Gia is going to eat something of hers.” He walked her outside where in front of the house a mean looking 2012 Ford Mustang waited. “Her kidneys in the fridge. I have to send it to Gia.”
“So that’s it. She tried to eat me and she just looses a kidney.” Cassandra said feeling both satisfied and fearful of Stephanie’s potential return to her life.
“Gia cares about you more than you know Cassy. I don’t think she’s going to stop at a kidney.” Randy held the door of the two seater Mustang open for Cassy and then walked to the driver seat. It was funny for Cassandra to hear Randy talk about Gia’s affection for her. She had very little idea what she had done to capture her Mistresses attention. As he started the car Cassandra’s phone rang. She answered it “Yes”. Randy started the loud engine of the two seater and hastily pulled away from the curb.
“Is this Cassandra Blake from 321 Willow Way?” An authoritarian voice came over the phone.
“Yes.” Cassandra answered cautiously.
“This is Sergeant Biggs at the 56th Precinct. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all day. We were called to a scene by a neighbor about midday. A young lady was found on your front lawn in clear emotional distress. She claims to live in your house and said you are missing.”
Cassandra felt a chill run down her spine. “Is her name Anetta Officer?” At the mention of the word officer Randy looked at her with frustrate concern.
“She claims it is, but we can’t seem to ID the individual. If you could bring a passport, photo ID or birth certificate; anything to prove identity down to the Station we’d greatly appreciate it. She’s telling some crazy stories.”
Cassandra didn’t comment. She couldn’t think up an excuse that would hold up to investigation.
“Ma’am you there?” Came Sergeant Biggs’ voice.
“Yes. I’m here.” Cassandra said, and reached out to hold Randy’s hand signaling there was a problem.
“We need to clear this up Ma’am. Could you please come to the Precinct immediately?”
“Yes Sergeant. I’ll be right there.” Cassandra hung up the phone and turned to Randy. “We’ve got to get to the 56th Precinct now.”
“They have Anetta?” Randy said clearly thinking about the situation.
“Yes”. Cassandra said fearfully. Randy looked ready to have someone killed, most likely Anetta. “Randy…..” She said in an almost pleading voice. She couldn’t ask again, fearful of what steps the Society may take. If they would take a members kidney, what would they do to a disposable Maid. The memory of Rosalita the Pain slave came into her mind.
Randy turned and looked into her eyes.
“I know you don’t have to help me, but she’s the only person I have.”
Randy looked away back to the road. His frustration turned to focus, having come to a resolution in his mind. “Ok, we’ll get her out.” He started to make a U-turn. To Cassandra he seemed to know where he was going, but Randy would drive around for a moment to think of a plan. “You’re a lot of trouble Cassandra Blake. I’m starting to wonder if maybe I should have eaten you with Stephanie.” Cassandra didn’t say anything as Randy tapped the hands-free button on his phone. His iphone screen lit up in its holder and Siri’s voice came through his sound system of the car asking him for a number. “Call Donald Bright” Randy said. After Siri’s confirmation the dial-toned signal the call going through.
“Evening. Donald Bright here.” Came a voice. Cassandra listened intently.
“Donald its Randy Kennedy. I need you to meet me at the 56th Precinct immediately.” Randy said.
“You didn’t get spotted leaving a bar with another missing girl did you Randy?” The voice sounded formal but calmly capable.
“No. They’re holding a young lady I know until she can be identified.”
“So. Identify her.” Donald replied.
“She doesn’t exist Donald.” Randy said.
“Ok.” Donald said in confident understanding. “If you get there before me just wait out front. Its better you don’t deal with them.”
“Thanks Donald.” Randy said and tapped the phone ending the conversation. With Randy’s plan in affect he turned to Cassandra. “Donald’s the best. We’ll get her back no worries.”
Chapter 6.
Donald Bright was around Dalton’s age. He was trim and lacked Dalton’s minimal fitness. He had short graying hair and a neatly trimmed beard. Randy spotted him as soon as he entered the parking area, and he and Cassandra rose from their perch on the bonnet of Rand’s car.
“Mr. Kennedy.” He said walking towards them. As he grew near he extended his hand in formal greeting.
Randy shook his hand and didn’t bother to introduce Cassandra. “The young ladies name is Anetta. She has no paper of any kind, not even a last name.”
Donald nodded in understanding. “Wait here and I’ll go get her. Is there anything else I should know about the lady in question?” He looked to Cassandra for an explanation.
“She…” Cassandra found it difficult to think of anything factual, her mind operating emotively. With everything that had happened with Stephanie she just wanted her loyal friend back. “She’s not at all accustomed to the outside world.”
“We’ll say she’s schizophrenic.” He replied business like and produced a brown envelope from his pocket and checked the contents. He looked back at Randy. “This will only take a moment.”
As he turned to leave Randy said “Thank you Donald, we’ll reimburse you for the bribe.”
Donald didn’t seem to care and walked toward the entrance of the Precinct. As he entered the doors Cassandra asked “Is he one of us?”
Randy put his arm around Cassandra to comfort her mental and physical exhaustion. “Donald gets off on helping us get away with what we do. I think he’s always aspired to controlling the law.”
Cassandra dipped her head. “We should get Gia to make him judge.”
Randy squeezed her. “You know, thinking like that is probably one of the things Gia likes about you.” The pair sat in silence for a moment.
The Precinct doors opened a moment later and Donald could be seen guiding a terrified Anetta out of the station. She caught sight of Cassandra and ran, barefoot, towards her. As she drew close they both opened there arms a hugged. Up close it was obvious Anetta had been crying, a lot.
“It’s Ok Anetta, you’re safe.” Cassandra said and shushed her trying to calm her.
“I’m sorry Mistress.” Anetta was saying over and over again. “You didn’t come home and I couldn’t look for you.”
Cassandra shushed her weeping maid again. It’s Ok. You’re not in any trouble.” She kissed her the cheek. “I’m just glad you’re Ok.”
Whilst the emotional exchange took place Donald had walked up to them and Randy. He extended his hand and they shook in mutual respect.
“Anything else I can help you with?” Donald asked being thorough.
“We’re going to need to get this one an identity. Randy said in reference to Anetta.
“I’ll get on it tomorrow.” He said. “Have a good night Randy.” He turned and walked back to his car.
Randy waited a little longer as the two girls embraced each other. “Ok, now I really need to get you home. I’m kind of worried Stephanie has woken up and her neighbors will hear her screaming.”
The reminder woke Cassandra up and she guided Anetta into Randy’s Mustang. Anetta perched in Cassandra’s lap in the two seater, Cassandra’s arms around her waist as a makeshift seat belt. The engine roared and Randy took off at speed, not caring they were in a police station car park.
“Can I ask you a question?” Randy said as they navigated the streets back to Cassandra’s house.
“Yes.” Cassandra answered.
“How come you didn’t call me when you moved here?” Randy didn’t make eye contact, but watched the road.
“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t know your intentions.” She paused for a moment. “What’s the matter didn’t you like the real-estate bimbo Renee?” Cassandra regretted saying it. Randy had saved her life and liberated Anetta; he didn’t deserve the snappy tone.
“Renee died really badly.” Randy said sharply. But after airing his annoyance his tone changed. “But, I did enjoy her.”
They arrived outside Cassandra’s home. She gave the key to Anetta and scooped her off her lap. Anetta bolted to the front door and shut it behind her, safe at last. Cassandra waited till she was out of sight and shifted her weight so she was facing Randy. “Thank you for saving me Randy” she said and leant over and kissed him on the cheek. Randy was stiff during the kiss. Cassandra suspected he’d tortured and eaten so many women that real affection had a confusing influence on him.
He reached into his pocket and took out a bone white business card. Cassandra had seen its kind the day she’d moved in. “If you need a friend to talk to about Society stuff, call me. And call Gia, tell her the truth about what happened and you’ll find things will be easy.” He shifted his car into gear, the clutch still down, Cassandra’s signal to get out. “I’ll come by as soon as Donald’s got Anetta a Social Security number and stuff.”
Cassandra got out and took a step back. She waved as Randy took off, in a hurry to prevent Stephanie from screaming for help and creating more work for Donald Bright.
Chapter 7.
The sleek town car finished its traverse of the long smooth drive of the Manner which had summoned it. As it pulled to a halt the driver exited and opened the door for Cassandra Blake. Her platinum blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail exposing her long neck and toned shoulders. Despite the company of her personal Maid, who would accompanied her for the stay, she had deliberately dress down on the surface. The message she had received had told her to come prepared to work. So she wore a pressed pair of slacks and a white silk blouse to conceal, if need arise, something from Victoria Secret beneath.
As she exited the car she ignored the driver as he retrieved her bags from the boot. Her Maid, Anetta, collected them wearing a simple floral dress the both complemented her petite figure and gave her a childish charm. Walking to the large stain wood doors of the manner, decidedly out of place in Buffalo, they opened as she drew near. A classic Italian beauty in a tight black dress smiled in greeting.
“Miss Blake. Welcome.” She bowed her head slightly in greeting. “Please come in. The Professor has asked me to take you to the studio immediately upon your arrival. Your”, the young woman clearly head of the household looked at Anetta with some confusion, unsure what to make of her liberated attire.
“Call my Maid by her name please.”
The woman gave a look of concern to Cassandra.
“Call her Anetta.” Cassandra clarified adding sternness to her voice. She was Society after all and an invited guest.
“Of course. Anetta may sleep with the Manners Maids for the duration of your stay.”
“No.” Cassandra intensified her tone and stepped toward the woman. She could she readily that the woman was confused with Cassandra’s challenge of the status-quo. The House Keeper was unsure of the consequences of challenging an unknown member. Cassandra admitted to her mind, that her attitude could backfire once Professor Monroe was in play. “Give her the room next to mine.”
The House Keeper looked shocked. “But Miss Blake, there are no quarters for servants upstairs.”
“Any other guests staying this weekend.”
“No Miss.”
“Then give her the room next to mine and leave her alone to go about her business.” Cassandra walked right up to the House Keeper. She looked her up and down and gently reached out and ran her finger over her collar bone. Cassandra made sure the House Keeper saw her lick her lips.
“Of course Miss Blake.” The House Keeper said, getting the message. She turned to Anetta, “Up the stairs and to the left you will find a hall with multiple rooms. Please choose the ones to your liking.”
Anetta who had been muted by shyness and fear of the House Keepers authority allowed herself a tiny smile before she picked hers and Cassandra’s bags up and headed for the stairs.
“Now Miss Blake, I fear we have kept the Professor waiting.” The House Keeper said as she gestured for Cassandra to head to the right. As Cassandra began to walk the House Keeper followed at a distance. She did not need to offer directions as music, a liberty not permitted by servants, offered an indicator of where to go.
Cassandra approached an inauspicious door with leadlight windows depicting a witch burning at the stake. Behind the door, clear now, Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon sounded the Professor. Cassandra knocked on the door.
“Enter” sounded the Professors voice.
Cassandra turned the knob and pushed the door open on an innocent scene. The Professor stood on the other side of the studio having just abandoned a fresh painting of a woman. The Professor was turning off the music and as he did so, turned smiling.
“Cassy.” He eyed her. Cassandra was relieved he did not look at her attire disapprovingly. He opened his arms and walked towards her in greeting.
Cassandra strode forward as the House Keeper sealed the door behind her, taking her silent leave. As she grew close to Professor Monroe she placed her arms behind her back and offered her neck as though he was a vampire about to drink from her.
Dalton Monroe placed his arms around Cassandra, one hand clasping her wrists in bondage, the other testing her belly for firmness. He kissed her on the check and then sniffed her neck. It was the same submission Gia gave when she had first met Dalton Monroe. Cassandra had pulled it from memory knowing it should please. Since her encounter with Stephanie Benson, Cassandra had resolved to exhibit exemplary and cautious behavior.
“You learn so fast Cassy.” He whispered and then pulled away. He immediately turned to the painting he had seemingly just finished. “What do you think?”
Cassandra surveyed the painting. A slender woman, scaled by her surrounds to be about five foot, six inches, stood in a black cocktail dress. Her skin was a mix of fair and dark, the dark highlighted but a short neatly cropped afro. Her features were gentle and her demeanor passive. She was young, graceful and very beautiful.
“Your technique is flawless.” Cassandra turned and gave a flirtatious smile. “But then, you are The Professor.”
Dalton bowed with a smile.
“She’s wearing a House Keepers dress, but the jewelry suggests independence from servitude.” Cassandra paused, looking at the expression on her face. “She’s intelligent, but not proud.” She saw signs of humility, and an absence of the sadist streak everyone in the Society carried. “She’s beautiful. Who is she?” Cassandra turned to her Professor.
“She hasn’t been born yet.” Dalton marveled at the potential of what his work represented. “I’m going to breed her. I’ve just acquired the perfect female to carry her. The father will be a trusted friend, IQ 164.” Dalton turned to Cassandra. “But her upbringing and personality; inspired by you Cassy.”
“Me.” Cassy said, a little uncertain. “I inspired the creation of a……” She suddenly realized who this girl could be. She was a girl with the ability to maintain consistency in Cassandra’s absence. Her replacement?
Dalton saw the concern on Cassandra’s face and chose not to tease her. “She’s not your replacement; an excuse to get you on the dinner table is nineteen years or so.” Dalton glanced at the painting and then at Cassandra. “She’s the embodiment what I like about you. And when she’s old enough I want you to aid in her schooling.”
Cassandra hadn’t conceived this might be expected of her. “Of course.” She replied submissively. “I will give the method some thought in my spare time. But is this why you have asked me here?”
“No, actually I have a more immediate project for you.” Dalton walked briskly to an antique wardrobe and after turning a key, opened it. Inside stood a voluptuous pale girl. Dalton extended his hand like a gentleman caller and the passive girl took it a stepped out of her unusual cage. “This is Daisy D.: Gen. 4.” Dalton guided the girl around so that Cassandra got a perfect view of her. Her legs were short and muscular, but toned beautifully. Her belly was flat and curved in from broad pleasing hips, the proportions of which were matched by a pair of large circular breasts that hung like two half melons. Her face was beautiful and Cassandra guessed American with a docile expression save the glaring contrast between her emerald eyes and shining black hair (cut to shoulder length).
“She looks”, and Cassandra new she must please with her description, “like the embodiment everyone’s high school crush.”
Dalton smiled and shook his head. “She wasn’t meant to be special. Daisy is the name I give to all my cows. ‘D’ means she is the forth born of generation 4. She was meant to receive a large dose of hormones to induce lactation. Nothing special about her at first, but look at her imperfections.”
Cassandra scanned to passive, dazed girls pale skin. Beauty was to taste, but this girl was beautiful by most standards. Society members consumed beautiful women in every variation of the theme. Cassandra looked for a birth mark; freckles; change in skin tone. It dawned on her. “Her skin is flawless.”
Dalton clapped his hands in excitement. “She’s the perfect canvass for your style of art.”
“My style?” Cassandra questioned. She had been producing art in Dalton’s class for less than a year; she did not know her own style yet.
“The self portrait you drew for me months ago; Beauty in Peril.” Dalton titled her. “The eroticism; the vulnerability; uncertainty; and the controlling of fear.” He looked at Cassandra proudly. “Cassandra, I want you to express your relationship with Gia using this girl. The result will be my gift for her Gia for Christmas. I think she will appreciate it. It may even redeem the opinion she has of you after your little mistake.
Cassandra shuddered at the memories of laying helpless in Stephanie’s Steam Cooker.
“So. Daisy is of age and she will be your canvas.”
Cassandra snapped back to the present. “You want me to paint a portrait of her.”
“No. We will paint her.” Dalton reached over to a bench and lifted a tattoo gun. “You’ll design the tattoo. I will ink it. This cow is going to be a work of art.”
Cassandra had been extra cautious of every situation ever since she’d relaxed her guard with Stephanie. Though Dalton was a strange kind of gentleman too her, and she had nothing to fear from him, she realized that this task was important. If she made an error she would offend Gia and embarrass Dalton. Things had been strained between Gia and her since Randy had had to rescue her. Gia had not punished her, but had not offer sympathy either; there was a kind of disappointment in her voice.
After her moment of reflection on her relationships with the people involved she focused back on the task at hand. She ignored Dalton for the time being and investigated the canvas. The young cow dazedly watched as Cassandra circled her and traced the circumference of her waist with her finger. Her skin was soft and smooth like a babies. As Cassandra closed the circumnavigation her finger glided over a delicate spot. Daisy’s stomach twitched as if ticklish. The motion caused her breast to jiggle slightly, her nipples growing hard, and Cassandra notice a slight gleam from her vagina. The cow had become aroused. Cassandra had an idea.
“I will need to make her comfortable and find her androgynous zones. All of them.” Cassandra took daisy’s wrist and traced her finger over the pale skin of her inner forearm searching for one she herself had. She stared intently into Daisy’s emerald eyes looking for a reaction. “Gia will want to trace the artwork, every line follows should cause a physical reaction, and the type of reaction it causes will reflect the art.”
Dalton said nothing but smiled as if he was gaining confidence in Cassandra’s role in the project.
A thought came over Cassandra that caused some questioning, she immediately dismissed it as a luxury she was no longer entitled too. “I also will need to cause her pain.”
“Oh.” Dalton said questionably, but he knew why, he only wanted Cassandra to say it.
“Art that reflects the reaction when touched is the first task. The second is to give something for Gia to aspire to. The tattoo will be simple instructions on how to generate both pleasure and pain in poor Daisy here” Cassandra stood behind Daisy and passed her hand over her belly. “We put a portrait of Daisy in pain here. We need to capture the distinctness of her suffering.”
“Have you noticed Daisy here is not at all alarmed by your intentions to harm her? She is uneducated and socially ignorant, but the Society has never hurt her in any way. I think it best you use your imagination in that respect. Gia will appreciate a virgin to pain much more than one who has experienced it.” Despite his correction he seemed please that Cassandra was putting herself out of her comfort zone. “Anything else?”
“Red.” Cassandra said. “We use the color red so Daisy is always signaling she is at available to suffer at Gia’s grace.”
“She will like that.” Dalton rose and began to leave the room. “I will leave you to it, you seem more confident in the tasked than I could have hoped. If you need anything; anything at all, my House Keeper will attend to you. I’d suggest once you are familiar with your canvas that sketch your work before penning it on her body.” He paused at the doorway. “And Cassy; Gia will forgive you if try to appease her.”
“Thank you Professor Monroe, I will do that.” Cassandra said formally and turned to Daisy as Dalton left the studio. She turned her attention to Daisy and was met with a wistful expression. Clearly she had not comprehended Cassandra dialogue on her intended fate. “Well Daisy, let’s get you comfortable and get started.”
Cassandra drew two simple outlines of Daisy’s body on a sheet of paper; one presenting her front, the other her back. She had Daisy stand in the centre of the room with her legs slightly apart to match the sketches. As the cow stood still Cassandra ran her index and pointer finger over her body, searching for sensitive areas. A twitch; sigh; or even goose bumps appearing indicated the desired areas. The exercise was made easier by Cassandra’s experience with Gia on her cross. Gia had performed a similar ritual to exploit Cassandra’s natural pleasure centers, and many of hers matched Daisy’s. Once the operation was completed Cassandra repeated the procedure with a clean paint brush and then its pointy wooden tip. The different types of contact reflecting the type of image that would be painted on the skin. After about an hour she had conducted the scientific part of her process.
As she finished she noticed how wet Daisy’s labia was. Cassandra looked around to confirm she was alone. Her preparation had clearly aroused the young cow. Curiously she took her finger and pocked Daisy’s vagina lips. The cow gasped in pleasure. Cassandra worked her finger backwards and forwards, gently penetrating her and Daisy responded kindly; Cassandra’s gift of pleasure happily received.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but night I have a word with you Miss Blake.” The voice came from behind, having silently entered the room.
Cassandra startled as if she had been caught in an illegal act. Second thought reminded her that her behavior was tame by Society standards. The House Keeper stood in the entrance to the studio, arms folded in front. “What is it?” Cassandra said annoyed mostly because her feeling of guilt still lingered.
“I’m afraid we have not been properly introduced. My name is Jasmine. I am the House Keeper of this Manner, and all its servants answer to me.” She spoke less formally and very politely, an obvious attempt to win Cassandra’s favor through respect.
Cassandra gathered herself, and at the absence of judgment, reciprocated the respect. “It’s a pleasure to know your name Jasmine. How may I help you?” Cassandra had looked the House Keeper up and down in threat earlier, but now took a proper look at her. She had a similar figure and complexion to Cassandra, and her long raven hair was a contrast to her platinum blonde. Her black dress seductively clung to her figure, and her naked shoulders and high hem line exposed enough of her skin to indicate she was comfortable naked.
“It’s about your personal Maid, Anetta.”
Cassandra frowned; it was not like Anetta to cause any trouble. “Yes.”
“Some of my Servants witnessed her reading a book outside in the garden. Later I found the group of Maids in the library sneaking a look at a book.” Jasmine looked perplex at Cassandra’s lack of reaction to what Jasmine obviously considered a major problem. “Her liberate attire is also causing them to chatter.”
Cassandra thought these issues minor but tried to meet the House Keeper on her terms. “What would you suggest we do?”
Jasmine looked please. “Allow me to restrain her naked, publicly, and whip her as punishment.”
Cassandra’s mouth dropped open. “Under no circumstances are you to take such liberties with my Maid.” She allowed anger to show in her voice.
Jasmine remained calm. “Please Miss Blake I have been educated on your status within the Society. You are the property of a Member, just as I am; only you are in my Manner.”
Cassandra looked at Jasmines youth. She had obviously not been House Keeper for long (perhaps she didn’t know who Gia was to Dalton). “Jasmine I caution you, my servitude is not like your servitude.” Cassandra my one last attempt at peace.
Jasmine stood in civilized defiance. She did not back down.
Later that night:
Cassandra sat at the antique desk in her room. In front of her she shaded a picture of a rose from memory. Her work was composed of a sketch of Daisy covered in tattoos, including close up sketches on different pieces of paper. Her work for Dalton had almost been completed. All that remained was the centre of the work to go over Daisy’s belly. Cassandra pushed her chair back a rose. Anetta had retired to her room after an innocent meal of Peking duck with Anetta. Cassandra walked from one side of the room to the Saint Andrews cross on the other side. Jasmine was bond naked to it, a penalty for her ignorance. She was shivering and her nipples were hard. Cassandra had deliberately left the air-conditioning on.
The room door was opened and Cassandra smiled as another of the Manners tiny Maids slowly walked by trying to sneak a peek at their House Keepers predicament. Jasmine had been there for over six hours. She had kept silent the whole time, but the strain of having her arms strapped out to the side had begun to cause discomfort indicated by her erratic breathing. As Cassandra walked towards her, Jasmine looked at her with cautious anger.
“This is my Mistresses cross.” Cassandra stood in front of the House Keeper, and stroked the heavy wooden cross that framed her. “I’m sure Professor Monroe keeps it here for when she visits.” Cassandra stared deeply into Jasmines dark brown eyes. As she did so Jasmines confidence seemed to waver. “Do you know why you lost our altercation?”
“Miss Blake please!” She nervously looked out the open bedroom door. There was a blur of black cotton and lace as a Maid scamper away. The events Cassandra had set into motion were revolutionary in the Household. “The servants can see me….. They won’t respect my authority if you…...”
Cassandra put her index finger on Jasmine’s lips to silence her. She adopted a serious tone. “I made a mistake before I came here Jasmine. I need to do something to make it up to my Mistress.” Cassandra let her finger trace a line down past Jasmines lips to her chin and neck; then down her chest till she circled it around one of Jasmine’s erect nipples. “I’m going to destroy Jasmine the House keeper, on the off chance it will make Gia Eros smile.”
Jasmine breathed hard. “Miss Blake, I know my place now, I can serve you well.”
Cassandra walked across the room back to the desk where she pulled a knitting needle one of the Maids had fetched for her. She’d filed the tip to an elongated point. “I apologize for my makeshift tools Jasmine.” Cassandra said walking back towards her victim. “We’re going to have to make do with what we’ve got I’m afraid.” Her dominatrix tone was copied fron Gia’s, but hers was strict, lacking her Mistresses natural seductiveness.
As she drew close to Jasmine she eyed the point of the ivory knitting needle fearfully.
“Endure.” Cassandra said completely detached from the consequences, and jabbed the needle deeply into Jasmines exposed breast.
A scream filled the manner.
The next day:
Both women were at their posts in the dining room for breakfast. Jasmine had been kept up all night by Cassandra and her makeshift needle. She fought against the urge to lean back on the wall for some relief, but her duties to monitor the room kept her standing at attention. She had little influence over the Maids, who in defiance of their duties took to staring at Cassandra as she drank her coffee slowly.
A fragile looking brunette Maid was pouring a refill of Dalton’s cup. Whilst she poured she stared at Cassandra as if she were a creature of amazement. Cassandra noticing this looked at the Maid and then at Daltons coffee mug. The Maid had filled it to the brim, had not Cassandra alerted her she would have spilled the coffee. Jasmine looked like she might take action but a glare from Cassandra halted the House Keeper in her duty.
Dalton took his eyes away from his paper. He looked at Jasmine, then at his coffee, then at Cassandra. “You’ve ruined my House Keeper, you do realize.” He said carefully drinking from the mug so as not to spill any of its contents.
Jasmine, fatigued, tremor slightly at the proclamation.
Cassandra was calm. “I did what I thought Gia would want me to do.”
Dalton put his paper down and gave Cassandra his full attention. “How will we restore the balance to the Manner now that the Maids have seen their supervisor in such a predicament.”
Cassandra looked at Jasmine who returned her look with an expression of terror. Her power had been stripped from her, her body and mind punished, and now her future lay in the hands of an intern of the Society. Cassandra remained composed, but a ting of guilt nagged at her mind. “The obvious choice is to eat her, but that is a waste of something so much effort has gone into developing. Perhaps she could be transferred to another household to continue her duties where she has not been disheveled from her position.”
Dalton looked deeply into Cassandra’s eyes. He was reading her. “An interesting proposal.” Dalton rose and walked toward Jasmine, who may not have cowered at his approach had she been rested. He examined her eyes as if he was looking for traces of something. “No.” He said as if his search was futile. “No, she’s lost her strength. I don’t think she will be able to resume her role elsewhere.” Jasmine backed up against the wall as Dalton closed in on her.
“Please Master, I only wish to serve you.” She said in desperation, lips trembling, her young face transfixed in fear.
Cassandra could feel the tension accelerate. The remaining Maids in the room left without finishing their roles, clearly picking up on Jasmines impending dome.
“Hold still Jasmine.” Dalton said as his hand reached for her throat.
“Master, no!” Jasmine was hunched right up against the wall with no exit as Daltons hand closed around her neck. Cassandra could not see Jasmine face any longer as Dalton obscured her view, but she knew what was happening. Dalton was pressing down on the artery that pumped blood to the brain. Jasmine face would be red, her eyes bulging desperate to stay conscious.
Her body slumped and Dalton caught it. With a jerk he lifted her up and carried her toward the kitchen. “I'll make arrangements to fly to Saudi Arabia to my father’s compound to get a replacement. In the mean time you’ll have to stay here and assume the House Keepers duties.”
Cassandra inhale and exhaled softly before saying. “Of course Dalton, whatever you need.”
As Dalton approached the door with his helpless cargo he turned his head over his shoulder. “You’ve finished your design?”
“Yes.”
“Pen it onto Daisy. I’ll call you when lunch is ready.” He disappeared behind the door.
Cassandra quickly finished her coffee and exited for the studio. She shook off Jasmines fate, but knew she would she her again very soon.
Luncheon:
Cassandra carefully traced the line of the fine pen over Daisy’s stomach as Anetta appeared in the studio. Cassandra turned and smiled at her. “Hello Anetta, are you enjoying your stay.”
“Yes Mistress.” Anetta said smiling shyly, but it was obvious she had something to say.
“What is it?” Cassandra prompted her in a polite tone.
“Professor Monroe has announced lunch, and says I am to join you.” Anetta’s excitement was obvious.
It was the first time Cassandra had seen the ingrained thrill at cannibalism that Anetta and all her sister Maids had. It was a little unsettling coming from someone as innocent as her petite little Maid. “That’s Ok” she said ignoring her Maids fetish “I’ve just finished.” Cassandra admired her work. The vines of roses over Daisy’s sensitive spots led to deep red roses over the areas that aroused her. On her belly, the most reactive part of her, a stylized image of Jasmine on bondage cross stood in testimony to the night before. Cassandra had captured the moment when Cassandra snapped from trying to endure the pain too begging.
Cassandra looked at in and realized she wasn’t innocent of the societies doing anymore.
“Mistress.” Anetta said, obviously conscious of keeping Dalton waiting.
Cassandra turned from her contemplation of her creation and gestured for Daisy to rest in a chair. She and Anetta exited the studio and made their way to the dining room. The first thing Cassandra noted as they walked through the Manner is that the aroma that usually accompanied a Society meal was absent. As she approached the open door of the dining room Jasmines cries of distress, familiar to her from last night, could be heard. Anetta seemed completely unfazed, but Cassandra had a feeling that her sin was about to impact on her psyche somehow. Slowly she walked through the opening to the dimly lit room. Candles burnt on every surface and had not she known Dalton’s love of Gia, she would have suspected him of an attempt at seduction.
Jasmine lay on a metal tray in the centre of the table, her wrist and ankles shackled tightly. Her youthful breast no longer hung down beautifully, but formed to perfect bowl shape mounds. Her firm hamstrings contorted and relaxed as she tried to pull her feet through the shackles, and her belly lay flat and delicate with her arms stretched out above her head. She was utterly helpless and looked to Cassandra for a reprieve she could not give. Dalton stood above her at the centre length of the table. He was gently fondling his House Keepers closest breast. Whimpers of distress played a background soundtrack and finished the ambiance of the room as a Society occasion.
“She hasn’t been cooked?!” Cassandra said, querying the state of Jasmine.
“We’re going to try something a little different. Gia and I suspect you do not actually enjoy our little dinner parties. This exercise will either confirm our beliefs, or get you off the hook.” Dalton took the conversation to put on his long white gloves; the mark of the Society.
Cassandra stood motionless as Dalton gentle ran his hand along the firm, quivering skin of Jasmines belly.
“Have you ever had Korean Barbecue?”
“Yes.” Cassandra answered, feeling a lump appear in her throat.
Dalton continued despite her affirmative answer. “It’s a very simple way to eat, but requires some skill.” He picked up a knife and levitated it over Jasmines restrained body. “You take a thin slice of meat…” Dalton said as the knife finished its dance and he began to cut a thin strip of flesh from Jasmines thigh. It looked similar to a potato being peeled.
Jasmine wailed through her gag and her body tried to fight the cut. Even after Dalton balance the three inch long prize on his knife she yanked at her restrains, realizing it was the first of many cuts.
“……then you dip the meat in the marinade.” Dalton dropped the meat into a bowl of glistening brown sauce. She’d not notice it, or the Hibachi, whilst she’d been transfixed of Jasmine’s bondage. “Then onto the Hibachi” Dalton dropped the slice of meat onto the small gas powered stove. The surface radiated heat, visible through shimmering of the air above, and the meat sizzled. “It only takes a few seconds.” Dalton said, moving Jasmine’s meat around on the stove with the tip of his blade, the marinade losing viscosity and partially evaporating. “And then you eat.” He lifted the cooked meat, balanced on the tip of the knife and popped it in his mouth before chewing it. He swallowed and said, “Delicious.”
Cassandra’s head burned and she feared she would start sweating.
“You needn’t worry about her bleeding to death. She has been given a clotting agent to stem the flow of blood from her wounds.”
Cassandra couldn’t say anything. She knew she should smile, take her seat and imitate Dalton’s actions, but the severity of her sentence on Jasmine made her feel all the guilt she had left from her old life.
Dalton picked up on her hesitation. As always he wasn’t offended or angry. “Cassandra, I think Gia and I know the answer to our concerns.”
“I’m sorry Dalton…” Cassandra started, but Dalton held up his hand for her to stop.
“If you sit and eat, Gia will be appeased. Give us time and we will turn you.”
Cassandra felt relief at not being in trouble. She now realized it was not un-accustom for new members of the Society to have an aversion to eating human flesh. The idea there was a system for helping people over come it was a deviant comfort to her.
With the gift of grace Cassandra took her seat and Anetta sat on the chair next to her. Dalton sat opposite on the long side of the table so he could easily harvest the helpless Jasmine. Dalton paused for a moment giving Cassandra a second to adjust and then said, “Please, begin.”
Anetta did nothing, and Cassandra knew that by hierarchy she would do nothing until she began. Cautiously Cassandra picked up her knife and placed the blade against Jasmines other thigh. She applied gentle pressure but nothing happened.
“You have to gently slice.” Dalton said to Cassandra’s difficulty. “It’s not like peeling a potato; it’s like carving a thin strip of ham.” He took his blade to Jasmines closest breast, the one he’d been fondling and in a swift motion, sliced her nipple of. Cassandra expected in to come away and slither down the mound of her breast, but the moistness of Jasmines flesh meant it stayed in place. Cassandra tried gently slicing and the surface tension Jasmines skin gave way, the muscle beneath holding no friction against the razor sharp blade. Cassandra collected the thin slice of meat and dropped it on her plate. Once severed from the body it became mere meat, the kind he’d eaten several time, and once cooked she tasted it. As she chewed the meat, delicious despite depravity, Anetta commenced her collection. Unlike Cassandra she went for the meat in front of her on Jasmines graceful arm.
“How did it taste?” Dalton asked. He was sliced thin strips of Jasmines breast, slowly whittling it down, collecting several mouthfuls at once.
“Like a sweet pork dish.” Cassandra answered honestly.
Dalton placed his collection of breast meat on his stove before picking up the bowl of sauce and pouring some of the contents over the sizzling meat. “You’re eating with your sense of taste too much.”
The comment seemed crazy to Cassandra.
Dalton continued very serious. “You torture Jasmine only last night. This meal is a continuation of your dominance of her. Watch her. Take in every moan of pain; every twitch; and the desperation in her eyes when she looks at you for mercy.”
Cassandra looked to Jasmines face. She was very intently looking to Cassandra for mercy.
“You don’t have to Master the mentality straight away. Sample my suggestions, and we’ll expose you to it again when you have regained your composure.” Dalton scoffed down a hot slice of Jasmine, his lesson over.
Cassandra, wanting to display her appreciation, cut another slice of thigh.
After Lunch:
“I’ll go get to work inking our little toy Daisy. Do you have any recommendations for handling her?” Dalton announced rising from his seat.
“The areas you’ll be tattooing are very sensitive. Perhaps an anesthetic? That is if you wish her to be a virgin to pain for Gia.” Cassandra said, avoiding Jasmine’s frantic attempts at eye contact.
“An excellent suggestion.” Dalton rose and as Cassandra rose he said “You must remain here. The staff will finish off Jasmine. Your house keeping duties begin now.”
Cassandra watched as Dalton left the room. It was obviously the signal for the staff to enter. They all funneled in, excitement in their steps. Several of them carried Hibachi’s for use cooking Jasmines living flesh and as Cassandra took her place in the House Keepers corner (Anetta by her side). They began their furious harvest.
Jasmine’s muffled screams again filled the room, this time more frantic, driven by the piranha like cutting that was taking place. Thin strips of her flesh were being slashed off her and Cassandra saw her eyes bulge and her screams turn to moans as her body began to convulse against the restraints. The cutting was broken up as the dozen or so members of the house hold sat at their seats and sizzled their prizes on theirs stoves before devouring Jasmine, as she struggled, and then going back for more.
Anetta sensing her Mistresses discomfort reached over and took her hand. She herself did not seem shaken, and Cassandra briefly wondered what horrors she had seen as a child, or did she just assume that his was the natural order of things.
The staff had finished their initial samples and in unison, driven by the desire of the group, all rose and leant over Jasmines body again. Giggles at the meals spasms and wails drifted from the table. A Maid stabbed Jasmine in her remaining breast, in an act of possible revenge, and for the first time Cassandra began to see the divide between the Society members and those with simple cannibalistic lifestyles. The servants, their lives so void of power, had a vicious streak obviously repressed and turned nasty.
Cassandra realized the need for discipline and stepped forward clearing her throat. The table paused in the acts, knives still buried in Jasmines flesh, slices of meat half harvested. “Please, be civil.” Cassandra said, and as she stepped back to her position the hurried collection of meat continued at a slower pace.
It may have removed the gruesomeness of the scene, but Cassandra knew as a consequence Jasmine would now suffer longer. Cassandra learnt another lesson; the suffering of the meal was necessary to remain civil.
The scene continued for half an hour. Jasmine was conscious the entire time, never for a second given a moment reprise from pain. As the staff, filled with forbidden meats slumped in their seats Cassandra clapped her hands. “Clear the table and wash everything. When you have finished those whose duties require it return as dispose of the body.” Without delay the dozen or so Manner staff rose and left the room carrying everything from the table, save Jasmine who shuddered in pain; her head rocking from side to side.
As the last Servant walked by Cassandra stepped to her and reached for her knife. The servant, one of the kitchen staff, relinquished it and continued to her post. As the last of them left the room Cassandra approached the muffled whimpers of the meal, still stubbornly alive. She cleared Jasmines matted hair from her face and was aware of Anetta watching her by her side. Cassandra leant over the ravaged red remains of the former House Keeper, partially stripped of flesh. Jasmine still looked beautiful. “I’m sorry Jasmine.” Cassandra said, and leaning the rest of the way in kissed the House Keepers still red lips sweetly.
Cassandra rose from the farewell and with deliberate motion, slashed the House Keepers throat. Jasmine’s eyes were not panics as the wound gurgled, but an expression of forgiveness and peace came over her face. It was the most disturbing thing Cassandra had ever seen, but like a lady of the Society, she remained calm in composure. Anetta was at her side and Cassandra took comfort in her loyalty, void of judgement.
The White Glove Society: The Turning (Part 2)
Introduction.
“So, Santa Claus isn’t real?” Anetta asked over breakfast. Since her assistance to Cassandra at Dalton’s Manner as House Keeper she had gained more confidence and often spoke freely to Cassandra, ignoring the divide of status between them. It was obvious to Cassandra now. The feeling of liberty had to be given in the environment ingrained in her through her upbringing. Anetta would never match a House Keeper in confidence, but she was intelligent, skilled, and capable of solving problems. Combined with the influence Cassandra held, the pair had run the Manner smoothly until Dalton’s return with the replacement House Keeper.
“No, he’s not real. He’s a myth parents tell their children to give them a sense of wonder.”
Anetta was thinking deeply on the subject, and Cassandra found it funny she was only just learning about Christmas. “Did you get me a present?” She asked sitting upright and looking hopeful with bright eyes.
“It’s a surprise; I’m not going to tell you.” Cassandra said taking a sip of her coffee.
Anetta beamed a happy smile. Such was her trust in Cassandra that she knew she would not be teased if not to receive a boon.
Cassandra had bought her a gold necklace with a ruby pendant. As she had learnt from Dalton, to a servant jewelry was a sign of status and meant that any punishment given could result in retaliation from their Master, or in this case Mistress. She was giving Anetta status and security.
A knock sounded at the front door. Cassandra put her mug of coffee down and walked to the entrance. Anetta remained in the kitchen and continued to puzzle over the mysteries of Christmas. Cassandra undid the two locks and released the latch the secured the house. Despite being in a safe neighborhood she both feared intrusion and wanted to make Anetta secure at the same time.
Cassandra was startled by the casual elegance of her unannounced visitor and she was sure her widening eyes exposed her surprise. “Gia!” she said taking in the appearance of her Mistress. Elegant and dressed for a Mediterranean Autumn as always (as if advertising her position). “Excuse me.” Cassandra quickly looked down at the common sleeping gown she wore, falling immediately into the role of submission. The apology was for her attire, she was not at all elegant or alluring like the figure dress in a tiny red dress and white fur coat even early in the morning. Gia’s long, olive legs were naked in the snowy, winter climate but she seemed perfectly comfortable. Gia always seemed comfortable. Cassandra had never seen her sweat, or shudder in the cold.
“Cassy, really!” Her Mistress commented surveying her light blue flannelette dressing gown and slippers. “You must be ready to entertain at all times.” Gia walked into the house, as she owned it she clearly felt she didn’t need an invitation.
Cassandra stepped back for her to enter and closed the door. Once it was shut she opened up the dressing gown and revealed the baby blue, lace negligee she wore beneath, as proof she slept in accordance to her Mistresses taste. “I’m sorry Gia, but I’m not immune to climate like you are.” Cassandra let the gown drop to the floor and displayed her young body to her owner.
Gia smiled appeased. “I have plans with Dalton this evening.” She said abruptly in explanation of her appearance in Massachusetts.
“I can tell by the red dress.” Cassandra commented. She always felt the need to show she was learning about her Mistress. It was difficult to read weather Gia liked; or disliked her commentary.
“We’ll be having some indulgence on his father’s yacht. I’d like you to join us.”
“Oh!” Cassandra said, and pensively looked down the hall to where Anetta was poking her head out of the kitchen to observe the exchange. Cassandra decided to be blunt in light of her recent and unresolved mishap with Stephanie Benson, “Am I to be your dinner?”
Gia smiled a carnivore’s grin. She stepped towards Cassandra and her left hand was placed on Cassandra bare inner thigh. As she took another step forward Cassandra was gently pushed back against the hallways wall. Trapped, the hand ran up her thigh until Gia’s finger found Cassandra’s vagina. A single finger penetrated her, whilst the others rested above her clitoral hood, Gia knowledge of her body honed through the intimacy of torture.
Cassandra new Gia was further asserting her control. She made no effort to hide her anxiety as Gia moved her lips within kissing distance. “Do you want to be dinner Cassandra?” She asked.
“No.” Cassandra replied timidly.
Gia backed off and allowed Cassandra to regain her balance and composure. “Then never suggest it. We will take what we want, no need to put ideas in our head.” Gia turned down the hall and Anetta’s head disappeared from view with a startled yelp. “Your Mistress will be back for Christmas Anetta.” She said, clearly aware of how close the two had grown. “Come” she beckoned and opened the front door.
Cassandra realized she was not going to be given time to pack a bag or even cover herself. She shuffled her feet removing her tacky slippers and followed her Mistress out into the snow walking briskly to the waiting town car over the frozen ground.
Chapter 8.
The journey in the town car took about half an hour. As the cold and built up coast appeared and the landscape changed to the houses of the elite, Gia started to hum the Spanish song she always sounded. Cassandra figured the music held some special significance of her lover and she was anticipating seeing him. They had not made conversation and Cassandra felt a strange pride at being comfortable in the blue lace negligee. “The song you always hum, what is it? She asked, breaking the silence of the journey.
Gia stopped humming and turned from looking out the window. “When Dalton first took me out of the compound I was raised in, he gave me a dress and a gold bracelet and took me to the opera in Spain. It’s the tune of the first song I heard free.”
Cassandra smiled appreciatively. Gia was beginning to open up to her, which meant security and trust. “It’s lovely that you remember it.” She said as the car turned into the exclusive wharf which housed the boats of the uber wealthy and powerful.
As the car stopped Cassandra collected herself for a walk in her underwear. Gia was composed as always. “I’m hoping to aid in your education today. No matter what Dalton and I do to you, I want you to relax and be honest. If you hold any desires back our efforts will be in vain.” Gia exited the vehicle.
The walk was short. For Cassandra, not knowing which boat they would board, she had to work hard resisting the chilled breeze that blew though her lace garment. They approached a luxury liner at the end of the wharf. A young man only a few years older than Cassandra stood in uniform and bowed his head to Gia as she lead the way as they embarked. As she past the young man Cassandra guessed that he was an example of what happened to the male babies born in servitude to the Society.
“All the staff on this boat are Servants of the Society.” Gia said as she walked deliberately along the deck to a curtained hatch.
“The boat must be in dock and travel around the world, have they never tried to escape.” Cassandra queried, wondering how they didn’t take freedom when it was so easily available.
“The Society is like their faith. They have all they need; drink; fine food; adventure. They’re like sailors in the navy. In for life.” Gia opened the sliding hatch and a rush of warm air embraced Cassandra, finally free from the chilled coastal air. The yacht was spacious and lavish with leather furniture and paintings securely fastened to the bulkheads. Gia did not give Cassandra a moment of pause, she seemed eager to find Dalton below. There was a shift in the floor, and Cassandra guessed they were merely waiting for Gia and her before they cast of to sea. As they walked through the room to another door Cassandra eyed what she correctly guess was a giant gyro, its element was ornamental in design like a wrought iron fence from the Victorian period. She knew that by lunchtime someone would be turning one it, slowly cooking alive.
The simple modern opulence of the yacht was not alien to Cassandra’s upbringing, nor did she expect less from Dalton and Gia. Cassandra noted that it must have been decorated some years ago, as it lacked that freshness associated with the latest trend. Whoever (probably long ago eaten) had decorated the boat had failed in their efforts for a timeless style.
“Tacky isn’t it.” Gia commented, pausing before the final door.
Cassandra said nothing.
As Gia turned the knob Gia said for Cassandra’s ears. “Remember Cassy, you’re mine and I want to keep you.”
Cassandra frowned slightly baffled by Gia own kind of admission of sentiment. As Gia opened the door a humming sound came from the room and Cassandra heard Dalton talking to someone. As she followed Gia into the room she saw Dalton sitting in a chair leaning into his work, his tattoo needle in his hand. The person whose shoulder he was working on sat with the chair reversed, so her large breast rested on the top of the back of the chair. Like Dalton she was leaning over, but unlike Dalton her face was not looking up at Gia in worship; her eyes were glaring at Cassandra with a vindictive grin.
Stephanie Benson sat in all her curvaceous glory perfectly comfortable in her tiny red bikini. It was the same one she had worn when she had tried to cook Cassandra, but it was decorated with white, fluffy tinsel; and she comically wore and Santa’s cap. She was obviously dressed to be looked at, and the nearly finished tattoo on her arm indicated she had been there for some time.
“I want to torture her before we eat her.” Stephanie said looking directly at Cassandra and skipping any effort at introduction to Gia.
“When I’ve finished Ms. Benson.” Dalton said casually.
Cassandra felt little apprehension. It didn’t seem likely that Dalton would turn on her on a whim, but in New York he had betrayed Alicia (his love pet) without pause or a moment’s guilt. Perhaps destroying his House Keeper had put her on his bad side, though he had not shown it at the time.
Standing by her side, Gia placed her hand on the small of Cassandra’s back. “I don’t believe we’ve ever meet. My name is Gia Eros. I am Cassandra Blake’s Mistress.” Gia was polite, but had a formality to her voice.
Stephanie eyes narrowed and she looked at Gia. “You’re that bitch who ate my kidney.”
Dalton jabbed Stephanie with his tattoo gun, seemingly by accident.
“Ouch.” Stephanie said turning to look at Dalton.
“Sorry.” Dalton apologized. “You have to stay still.” It was obvious she had no knowledge of Gia and Dalton’s relationship. Most likely coming at Dalton’s invitation and expecting her crush on him to be for filled. Cassandra could not see Gia allowing the likes of Stephanie to be intimate with Dalton.
Gia did not react to the insult, but took her hand away from the still Cassandra’s back and stood with hands together in front of her. “Let me make it up to you Stephanie by giving you Cassy as a Christmas present.”
Cassandra felt uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, but it was in direct contrast to Gia’s style. The lack of reaction to the insult and the idea of Gia offering apology to Stephanie did not ring true. Realizing the rouse she turned to Gia, “Mistress please I’ve down nothing wrong.” Cassandra had never lowered herself to pleading, save on Gia’s cross under duress.
Gia knowingly and with false bravado looked at her sternly, her eyes lacking the presence they held when she was actually displease. “Go sit on the sofa and wait Cassandra.”
Cassandra acted defeated and slinked across the room to a U shaped leather sofa which curved around a mahogany coffee table.
“Ms. Benson, please understand I was very upset and your attempt to consume my possession.” Gia explanation lacked the sincerity and weight usually accustomed with her word.
“I have to take pills every day.” Stephanie was getting angry. “I can’t even go to a real doctor to get them, because then I would have to explain why I’m missing a kidney.”
Dalton butted in. “We will fix that Stephanie. Soon you won’t have any problems at all.” He put down his needle and gently blew on Stephanie’s shoulder, before giving it a gentle kiss.
From her new position across the room on the sofa Cassandra could feel the hidden rage in Gia as Stephanie leant over and kissed Dalton on the lower lip in thanks for the tattoo. As Dalton rose from his seat; Stephanie parroted his action, but as she rose she ran her right hand over her large breast, showing of her new ink and signaling to Gia that her breasts were larger.
Cassandra marveled at her Mistress allowing her pride to be put into question by triviality.
“Shall we have a drink, before Gia hands Cassy over?” Dalton said, gesturing for the standing women to take a seat with Cassandra.
“Let’s make it quick, there’s a lot I want to do to her before we have her for lunch.” Stephanie said as she took her seat next to Cassandra. Dalton sat next to Stephanie, whilst Gia sat next Cassandra. The two senior members of the party sealing the younger ones in.
Dalton produced a mobile phone and pressed a button as if it were a walkie talkie. Cassandra guessed it was device especial for the yacht. “Please bring in four scotches.” Dalton said.
Stephanie had turned her body so it was facing Cassandra. She ran her finger over Cassandra’s shoulder, hooking her index finger on the closest strap of the lace negligee and pulled. Cassandra was still staring directly ahead of her. Stephanie’s hand slowly ran down Cassandra’s chest, between her soft skin and the lace until Stephanie’s thumb and index finger pinched her nipple. Stephanie was looking intently for a reaction, when none came she dug her nails into the nipple.
Cassandra locked her teeth together and looked stoic, not giving Stephanie the satisfaction of a reaction.
Stephanie, clearly angered by the lack of response leant over and venomously said “I’m going to hurt you so bad, you’ll be begging to eat my pussy.”
“You have no idea!” Gia said turning her head to Stephanie and looking at her with unquestionable contempt.
Stephanie removed her hand from Cassandra, taken aback by the sudden presence Gia conveyed, possibly noticing it had been absent until now.
The distraction came. A young man, dressed in the same uniform as the one who had guarded the yachts entrance brought a tray of drinks. As he picked up each glass Cassandra notice Dalton’s hand resting on the coffee table direct the sailor. As the servant selected each glass Dalton subtle signaled to whom each glass should go. Stephanie did not seem to notice as she was now cautiously looking at Gia.
“To issues resolved.” Dalton said and raised the crystal glass tinted brown by the scotch. As everyone raised their glasses Cassandra saw the intricate etching in the crystal. Dalton’s was a knight brandishing a sword; Gia’s was a lioness crouched to pounce; and Stephanie’s was a woman burning at the staked. As the three other members drank she looked at her own; it was blank.
“Cassy.” Gia said at her side. “Drink.”
Cassandra obeyed but realized something was going to happen.
“Now that that’s done can I take Cassy below? I’d like to…..” Stephanie was slurring her speech and her eyes looked heavy.
“What’s wrong Stephanie? Dalton said turning his attention to the raven haired slapper by his side.
“I feel sleepy.” She said, barely audible. Her tone was dropping.
“It will wear of quickly.” He said. “We want you to be nice and alert for Cassy.” Dalton gently placed his hand on her shoulder and pushed back. Her balance shifted she slumped back into the sofa and flopped.
“Why am I so…” she drifted asleep.
Cassandra breathed a sigh of relief. She turned to Gia and smiled. “Thank you Mistress.” She said.
Gia smiled back and ran her fingers through Cassandra’s hair. “We made a deal with her father. If she reneged the offer to eat you and apologized we were going to let her go.”
“And he agreed.” Cassandra queried, knowing that Stephanie would not be the type to refuse the offer of revenge.
“He’s relatively minor in the Society. I guess like your father he choose prosperity over his daughter.” Gia rose as Dalton began lifting the unconscious Stephanie out of her seat. “Now remain seated, the drug in your drink will kick in soon and I don’t want you to lose your balance.”
The comment was so casual Cassandra didn’t realize its significance at first, but perhaps that was because her face was becoming flushed. A sensation of warmth spread out from her stomach and seemed to intensify in her hands, feet and eyes. As she turned to Gia, surprised that the game had more to it, the edges of Gia’s profile seemed to blur in with the surrounds of the boat and her red dress seemed to emit its own light. “What did you give me?” She asked, surprising trustfully despite her drink just being spiked.
Dalton was stripping of Stephanie’s clothes letting her lie naked on the floor and two of the sailor servants entered the room carrying a long metal shaft with offset bars and metal shackles.
“Just a little LSD.” Gia said watching the men work.
“What?!” Cassandra asked for clarification. She was lying down on the sofa now, the motion of the water seemingly making every object in the room shift positions.
“Lysergic acid diethylamide. You’ll be fine.” Gia said.
The two servants lifted a naked Stephanie up and Dalton pushed the shaft beneath her body. As they lowered her Dalton began closing the shackles around her wrist, one of the servants doing the same to her ankles. The remaining servant turned a cog on the shaft and it elongated, stretching Stephanie out like she was on a rack. As hastily as they’d prepared the spit, they carried it away, back to the room with the giant gyro.
“Do you want to do it, or should I.” Dalton asked Gia.
Gia smiled seductively and walked to her lover. She didn’t answer the question, but passionately kissed him. The intense intimacy lasted until it seemed like one of them would suffocate. As Dalton broke away she drew back her hand and slapped Dalton across the face.
Dalton looked wounded, but collected, like he had been expecting it.
“I will do it.” Gia said, moving past the confrontation. “And next time trash tries to kiss you….” Gia looked beautiful powerful at the release of her anger over Stephanie kissing Dalton. Cassandra’s mind flooded with the terrifying thought of what she was capable of when truly unleashed. As Cassandra looked at her in intoxicated awe she saw her Mistress gesture for her to come to her. “Come Cassy. We are going to teach you to want to feed.”
Cassandra crawled along the sofa to the edge and lifted herself up. Her coordination was not impaired, but the once unstylish surrounds of the yacht seemed beautiful and full of wonder now. She giggled.
“You think this amusing do you. Come along. Stephanie will only be out for a moment, her drug has a brief half life.” She stepped forward and took Cassandra by the hand, guiding her over the remains of Stephanie’s slinky attire and pulling her towards the room with the gyro.
“What are we going to do?” Cassandra said without a care in the world. She felt so lucid the thought of her own body being placed on the gyro actually had an alien appeal to her.
“You’re going to cook Stephanie, and you’re going to see how beautiful the whole process is.” Gia said confidently.
Cassandra let her Mistress lead her to the next room to find Stephanie had already been mounted on the gyro, a ball-gag placed in her mouth, and a table with bowls and knifes placed adjacent. As she approached the still unconscious beauty, Gia moved behind her and pushed her right up on the gyro. In position Gia’s hands explored Cassandra’s body. The sensation of touch on the LSD was orgasmic and Cassandra leant back into her owner’s warmth. She gasped in pleasure as Gia, hands under the lace, began to stimulate her pelvis in concinnity to the ebb and flow of the yacht on the ocean.
“Pinch her nipple. Wake our little treat up.” Gia whispered through Cassandra’s erotic breathes. Cassandra obeyed wanting more pleasure through her daze. Out stretching her hand she pinched Stephanie’s closest breast.
Stephanie’s eyes bolted open, the drug short and temporary. Her eyes darted around taking in her surrounds. Immediately recognizing her predicament she screamed, and as she screamed Gia kissed Cassandra’s neck and enthusiastically increased the intensity of the fondling. Stephanie’s distress brought more pleasure to Cassandra, and the LSD opened her mind to the experience of arousal through sadism.
One hand still grinding on Cassandra, Gia pointed a switch on the gyro. “The switch turns on the heat… and brings you more pleasure.” Gia said and stopped repetitive probing of her fingers. Instantly wanting the pleasure to return Cassandra flicked the switch. The element of the gyro creaked and started to emit heat. Stephanie started to slowly turn on her spit. As it began muffle screams sounded, and Gia’s hands returned to their work. The pleasure, combined with the drug was an old trick to convert members. Moments later Cassandra was breathing heavily again as Stephanie began to one-way process of cooking.
“Look at her eyes Cassy.” Gia said, and the open Cassandra shifted her innocent gaze to Stephanie’s. Their eyes met, and Cassandra felt delight at Stephanie’s look of desperation and panic. There was no doubt in Cassandra’s mind that she was Stephanie’s god at this moment, and she wanted so badly to be a revengeful god. “She needs basting. Take the brush from the table and paint her with honey and spice.” As the psychedelic experience continued Gia’s voice seemed to that of reason and guarantee of pleasure. Without pause at the suggestion, Cassandra reached for brush and dipped it into the honey marinade on the table. While Stephanie turned Cassandra began painting her body, slowly moving along the screaming, and twitching Stephanie. Gia flowed with her, never ceasing to provide teasing pleasure by touch.
Once Stephanie’s body glistened; Cassandra, mind clouded, was at a loss for what to do. Her eyes drifted over Stephanie and rested on her lunch’s flat belly, stretched out and exposed. After half a minute of watching the delicate muscles twitch and constrain Gia whispered. “Do you like her belly?” Gia’s words were accompanied by yet another intensifying of touch; bringing the idea of climax closer.
“Yes.” Cassandra gasped.
“Not her breasts.” Gia suggested. Cassandra did not take her eyes of the belly, sucked in, in an attempt to escape the heat. Gia took her focus as an answer. “If you like it, how would you feel about eating it?”
Cassandra moaned in psychedelic ecstasy at the thought.
Gia kept Cassandra in front of the cooking Stephanie as she turned. The entire time Stephanie cooked, Gia expertly kept her intern on the brink of orgasm, drawing the experience out and making it stick like a tantric craving.
“Let me come.” Cassandra begged as the marinade covering Stephanie’s body sizzled and she turned a golden brown. Stephanie’s screams had become rhythmic. Every time she exhaled she wailed through the gag in her mouth. It was a way of managing the in-escapable pain she must have been in.
“You can come after you’ve eaten your lunch.” Gia responded keeping Cassandra on edge.
“Please.”
“No. Only after you’ve eaten.” Gia kissed her neck again, obviously taking sexual joy in her intern’s excitement.
Chapter 9.
As Gia pulled Cassandra back from the warmth of the gyro the hither to unnoticed servants stepped forward. Two lifted the gyro off at either end, whilst a third cleared the table so lunch could be placed there. The interruption of the servants brought an end to the rhythmic stroking that had aroused Cassandra, but Gia now continue to kiss her neck and bare shoulders affectionately.
Dalton appeared in a doorway as the servants left. “So, how did it go?” he asked looking at Gia.
He was not answered directly. Gia realized her embrace of Cassandra, and the petite blond drifted towards the table and the opportunity of food enthusiastically. Stephanie lay on her back, arms by her side; paralyzed with cooked muscles. As Cassandra sniffed the sweet aroma of the meat before her Gia removed Stephanie’s ball-gag and propped her head up so she could see her helpless state.
Stephanie’s head had been beyond the element as remained pale. She gasped in horror and sobbed. “Please. I’ll leave you alone. Just don’t let her eat me. I won’t tell anyone about the Society, I’ll just disappear.”
Gia stroked her lunches face and looked at her with omnipotence. “What do you think Cassy? Should we let her go?”
Cassandra didn’t answer; she was hunched over her belly, watching the tantalizing twitching as Stephanie’s belly spasmed. She licked the hot brown skin, tasting the marinade. The LSD not only affected her vision and mind, but taste as well. The juices which had simmered up through Stephanie’s skin tantalized her, and not waiting for her meal to be carved she bit down on the flesh. Stephanie managed an exhausted gasp of horror as Cassandra furiously gnawed at the delicate tenderloin.
“A little feral, but we can work on her manners.” Dalton said and moved to Gia’s side.
Gia sighed. “It’s the drugs making her eat this way. Normally she’s very civil, you know that.”
Cassandra continued her feverish feed. “I know.” Dalton said and kissed his lovers cheek. “She’s go the appetite now.”
Gia watched with parental love as her intern demolished the delicate flat belly of Stephanie Benson. As Cassandra started to feel full from the sweet meat her bights became shallower until she was nibbling at the edges of the wound on Stephanie’s belly. Finally she stopped eating and straightened her back. As she turned to Gia and Dalton, Gia stepped forward with a cloth napkin and wiped the juices from the edge of her mouth.
“Well done Cassy.” Gia took her hand and started leading her back into he room she’d come from. “Now it’s time for your reward.
Cassandra didn’t know what could be more rewarding than her revenge on Stephanie, but she followed as Gia and Dalton led the way. The trio moved back into the room and Dalton continued further into the boat and Gia pulled Cassandra along. They passed through another doorway and emerged into a spacious cabin with a flat bed. Dalton began to remove his shirt and Cassandra, realizing she was about to be part of a sexual encounter, began to grow scared.
Gia, sensing her anxiety, stood in front of her. “We’re not going to hurt you Cassy. This is your reward.” She leaned in and softly kissed her intern on the lips. It was a brief kiss, merely testing her consent to physical contact, and the sweet smelling soft Gia was accepted. As she pulled back she gripped the hem of Cassandra negligee and pulled up, lifting the garment off hr intern. Gia kissed Cassandra again, this time opening her mouth. To Cassandra’s delight Gia tasted of strawberries, and she wondered how her Mistress managed this. Gia pulled her towards the bed, where Dalton now la naked, his erect penis standing like a mast of a ship.
Cassandra straddled Dalton, her legs either side of this thighs and Gia again moved in behind her. By pushing her pelvis into Cassandra bottom Gia shuffled Cassandra forward until Dalton’s shaft rest against the intern’s belly. Cassandra could not see her Mistresses eyes, but Dalton looked at her with an appetite, and she wonder how long the Gentleman had wanted her. As Dalton held his erection towards the ceiling, Gia hugged Cassandra’s chest and lifted her up. “You’re a very good girl Cassy” she whispered in her ear, and then brought her pelvis down; their combined weight thrust the penis deep into Cassandra’s pink vagina. Cassandra let out a nervous gasp of pleasure, and without pause or a chance to adjust Gia rocked both up and forward, teaching Cassandra the motion of sex. After several minutes, Gia released Cassandra from her hug and the young college student drove her on body, eyes closed tight, grinding on her Professor.
Gia sat back and watched, gently tracing her fingers up and down over the smooth skin of Cassandra’s back. Cassandra continued until Dalton let out a cry of pleasure. Hot seaman seeped out of Cassandra unprotected vagina.
“Keep going.” Gia said, obviously in command of the act.
Cassandra obeyed and continued to rock backward and forward on Dalton’s shaft. Daltons face became contorted from the friction he now felt, load realized, but Cassandra couldn’t see as her eyes were still squeezed shut. She continued a moment longer until her stomach twitched, warmth spread through her trailed by electricity and she moaned in ecstasy as she experience her first orgasm though sex.
She didn’t have a moment to ret as Gia thrust into her and lifted her off Dalton’s spent penis. She lifted her up and flopped her by her lover’s side, spooning her. Cassandra lay catching her breath between the two lovers.
“Holy shit, she learns fast.” Dalton said as he gasped for air.
“Cassy remarkable, aren’t you Cassy?” Gia said stroking Cassandra’s silhouette like you would pat a cat.
Cassandra rolled over and nestled her head in her Mistress bosom. In her intoxicated stat, her memory drifted back to the sight of Stephanie’s belly. Instinctively she wormed her body lower until her head was parallel with her Mistresses toned belly. Cassandra started by kissing it; then licking it; finally she playfully bit it. It was not a deliberate action, but lust had been tainted in her by the LSD. After several moments pretending to feed on the belly she had a moment of lucidity as Gia giggled.
“She wants to eat me.” Gia said.
Cautiously Cassandra shifted her gaze up the bed to Gia’s and Dalton questioning looks. She worried she had crossed the line.
Gia sat up and pulled Cassandra into a kneeling position. Gia’s hand massaged her pet’s sticky vagina and she looked intently into her eyes. “It’s ok Cassy. I want to eat you too.”
Cassandra, despite the haze in her mind, realized she had acquired an attraction to her Mistress. Women were food now. She did not back away from looking in her Mistresses eyes. The pair stared intently at one another, as if testing to see whose hunger was greater.
Dalton interrupted the contest. And Cassandra later realized coming close to beating her Mistress would have resulted in becoming dinner. “Gia. Stephanie will be getting cold, and you and I haven’t eaten yet.”
Cassandra, distracted turned to get up, but her Mistress pushed her down on the bed. “Rest until we get back to shore Cassy. You’ve done very well.” Gia rose, and accompanied Dalton out of the room. As Cassandra snuggled into the bed to rest in her drug haze she heard Stephanie start to scream again. The screams seemed so normal to Cassandra now that she began to slowly drift asleep.
Chapter 10.
Cassandra awoke to the sound of her bedroom door opening. She did not remember coming home, nor going to bed. Through tired, blurry eyes she saw the outline of the petite Anetta back into the room carrying a tray. “Anetta?” she said, sitting up. She instantly regretted it. Her head throbbed and her mouth was dry like it was packed with cotton buds.
“It’s two o’clock in the afternoon.” Anetta said placing the tray on the cabinet beside the king size bed.
“What day?” Cassandra asked rubbing her eyes and then trying to straighten her hair with her fingers.
“Christmas day.” Anetta said and passed a glass of Orange juice to her Mistress.
Cassandra took it and drank it quickly. She was very thirsty. “Thank you Anetta.” She said after gulping half the glass and put it down. Anetta was still sitting, expectantly. Cassandra was still recovering from her dosing of LSD the day before and her mind was slow, it took her a moment to realize Anetta was waiting for something. “Oh.” Cassandra sounded remembering her gift for Anetta. She leant over and reached for the cabinet the breakfast tray rested on. From its draw she removed a small package and offered it to Anetta.
The little Maids hastily snatched for it and started tugging at the ribbon. Behavior she would not have displayed in front of any other person save Cassandra. As she pulled open the box her eyes grew wide and her finger hooked and lifted the golden chain.
“Merry Christmas Anetta.” Cassandra said delighted to see the emotion the gift bought. A tear ran down Anetta’s cheek. Nervously she tried to undo the latch to put it on. Cassandra leaned forward, still feeling a little disorientated, and gentle took it from Anetta. She undid the latch and leaned over her little Maid from her position in the bed, fastening it around her neck. As she pulled back she kissed her Maid on the check, tasting the tear. “You’ve earned it Anetta. You will look after me, and I will look after you.”
Anetta picked p the pendant as it hung around her neck before lunging at Cassandra, this time imitating the contact. She hugged her Mistress and squeeze tight. “Thank you Mistress.” Anetta said and boldly kissed Cassandra on her cheek.
Cassandra giggled. “Ok. No duties today. We can do whatever you want.”
Anetta smiled back at Cassandra and rose from the bed. As she did so the small T-shirt she was wearing rose up with her chest. Cassandra caught a glimpse of the delicate outline he of the petite Maids belly before the garment dropped back down. Her arousal was instant and her mouth began to water. Ignorant of her Mistresses newly found desire Anetta skipped out of the room to watch Television downstairs.
Cassandra was still as she disappeared. She did not want to harm Anetta in any way, but the moment served as a lesson that she was no longer a cannibal under dourest. Her class mates and friends were food to her now, and her hunger would take some adjustment.
The White Glove Society 6: Easy Money
By ninja5
Introduction.
Ivy was not thinking that the padded leather shackles that suspended her had been custom made for the device. Nor was she thinking of the commitment the couple had made having an entire room dedicated to the giant pot she hung above. Her concern was more to do with the silk gag in mouth that prevented her screaming for help and her tiring legs as she held them above the boiling water. Already her muscles were starting to give way and she knew soon she would not be able to keep her feet out of the bubbling broth.
Chapter 1.
Shorter than average with sensual cures; a round face surrounded by long brown hair; and gentle muscle tone all exaggerated by the little red dress she had been fitted for. Ivy posed by the painting as the men in tuxedoes and the women in glamorous gowns paraded around the exhibit. The Art on display didn’t strike her as particularly good, not worth a true students time to even to glance at, yet the sophisticated crowd of Tokyo’s elite paraded themselves and examined the art whilst drinking sake; Champaign; and nibbling caviar. She had been hired to stand by the piece of art in her tiny red dress and attract a buyer. Every once in a while she would look over at the other girls to see their strategies for attracting customers. Several of her counterparts had made up stories about the art and tried to invite the guests to purchase a painting, others like Ivy adopted poses. The girls pay for the evening increased tenfold if the painting was bought. Ivy stood still, hands folded in her lap trying to appear submissive; guessing that the wealthy and powerful would be more excited by something they could dominate.
Prostitution was illegal in Japan, yet it was a 2.3 trillion yen industry, and represent 0.5% of Japans gross domestic product. Loop holes existed which gave the sex industry life, but intercourse in exchange for money was explicitly frowned upon. For discretion, and the client’s privacy a cover needed to be created. All this Ivy had learned from University, but the reality was repressed men, pent up and frustrated who forgot how to treat woman when doors were closed.
Ivy had taken the job with the exclusive escort agency to pay her tuition at the University of Tokyo. Being naturally graced with beauty and a lovely body meant she had made good money. Usually she just accompanied successful, but socially awkward, men to functions or on dates. This was her first assignment were she may be required to do more than just offer companionship to a client. Her reluctance to sell the painting was in part due to her nerves. The clients visited the paintings, and if they like the girl standing next to them they could buy the painting and receive the company of its attendant for an evening. If caught in the company of the young lady, the clients could merely claim to have won the favor of the young lady with them. The Escort agency kept no records of clients, or of the girls. Everything was done in secret seemingly to protect the reputation of the clients, and it paid very well.
“The blondes and redhead are always more popular than us brunettes.”
Ivy was startled by the slender and beautiful woman who had appeared by her side. She was standing in front of the painting examining it, the first to do so all evening. “American?” Ivy asked, not sure if this women was one of the working girls or one of the clients. The absence of a red dress suggested she was a potential client. She wore a short black dress that showed of long shapely legs covered in black stockings. Her hips were narrow, but her waist even thinner. She had two perfect small breasts and delicate muscle tone on her shoulders, even her collar bones had appealing shape, on display in her strapless dress. The woman appeared elegant and she was poised with grace, but on the left corner of her mouth twitched as if irritated. Ivy, having had a cousin with Tourettes immediately recognized the tell tale signs of a nervous tic.
The woman turned from the painting, her light wavy brown hair bouncing back into shape. “Formerly American. My husband is Japanese, so that means I have to be Japanese.” Again her mouth twitched in an unconscious motor response.
Ivy remembered the reaction of her first Japanese boyfriends’ parents when he took her to meet them. As she looked at the woman she wondered if how someone so beautiful navigated such occasions with the twitch. Those of pompous upbringing often looked for any excuse to bring down someone so enviable. Too many traditional Japanese nervous disorders were considered a curse, or weakness. “They can be a harsh people at times, but when it comes to desire, we’re very exotic to them.”
Across the room a commotion was accompanied by an attendant was removing a painting. A redhead girl, no older than nineteen, followed a gentlemen and the attendant to the exit. She had just been bought. “Some more than others.” The woman said, and Ivy couldn’t tell if she approved or disapproved of the practice. “You’re older than most of the girls here.”
“Twenty-five.” Ivy admitted.
The woman smile politely. “I’d like to stay here until my husband notices my hovering at your painting. Unlike most successful Japanese men, he desires more than sleeping with teenage girls just out of their virginity.”
The directness of the woman was in contrast to the other clientele, most of whom seemed to examine the painting and sneak looks at the girls as if they were about to commit the ultimate act of taboo. Ivy guessed that her consent to let her husband sleep with another woman was perhaps dependant on her choosing his partner. The woman was staring at the art, but crinkled her nose in disgust. “They’re not even trying anymore. This painting is terrible.” The woman turned and smiled as if about to laugh. The light heart nature of the woman put Ivy at ease, and it was strangely refreshing to see the mannerism of a Westerner other than the European girls working alongside her.
A short; overweight; and drunk Japanese man in a tuxedo stumbled into Ivy’s view as she turned back to her pose. Upon making eye contact she immediately regretted it. The man stumbled directly towards her, his white shirts tails un-tucked. The woman at the painting tilted her head, somehow alerted to the advance by checking the scene through her peripheral vision.
As he drew close, the man said something in Japanese neither woman could understand, clearly having drunken too much Sake. He wobbled in place looking Ivy up and down grinning. Ivy tried to remain composed and looked forward, not wishing to engage the man who was making the scene. He turned his attention to the American woman in the short black dress survey her shallow curves. He mumbled something in a deep drunken voice; again Ivy couldn’t make it out.
“Saruwatari” The woman said calmly, naming the fool, but not turning to speak with him.
“Foreign peach.” The man slurred aggressively and reached forward to grab the woman’s buttocks.
A hand intercepted Saruwatari’s hand. At first he looked angry but as he turned to face the obstructer his face turned white and his eyes wide. “Komatsu!” He said, naming the six foot Japanese man who clutched his wrist. The muscular man said nothing. Ivy saw security get into place from across the room, but they made no effort to approach. Komatsu narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip of the man’s wrist. Saruwatari cried out in pain and started to apologize in Japanese, begging for forgiveness. The woman still hadn’t turned around; she seemed to know how the confrontation would end. She turned to Ivy. “Don’t worry; you won’t be going home with this fool. Saruwatari was just leaving.”
“Yes. Yes.” Saruwatari said through the pain, knees bent. The tall Japanese man let go of his the drunkards wrist and Saruwatari backed away bowing in apology before heading past the waiting security out the exit.
Ivy looked at the Japanese man who didn’t need to even straighten his suit. He was handsome and muscular (like a gymnast) and his white collar was low enough to see numerous green and red tattoo’s around his neck. He looked as though he was capable of handling most situations. He stepped towards the American woman and placed his arm around her chest, affectionately pulling her off balance so she leaned back into him. Public displays of affection were not common in Japanese culture and usually indicated passionate love. Ivy saw the woman take the man’s hand, their wedding bands touching.
“I like this one.” The woman said, and the man turned his gaze to Ivy.
Ivy felt nervous at the stoic gaze. The man merely nodded at Ivy and then turned to one of the wondering organizers and repeated the nodded. The couple broke their embrace and an attendant came and removed the painting carefully from the wall.
“My husband’s name is “Komatsu Takeshi.” The American woman with the tic said as an attendant removed the painting from the wall and carried it away.
Ivy, guessing Komatsu was a Japanese Japanese turned to face him and bowed. She smiled gracefully as Komatsu bowed back, again put at ease with the respect she was being treated with despite her station. “My name is Ivy” she said in English.
“Will you join us Ivy?” The woman asked gesturing for her to follow the painting out the exit with the couple.
Ivy hesitated for a moment and the American woman picked up on it.
“Timidness is for the little Japanese girls who shy away from sex Ivy.” The woman said.
Ivy stuttered in her motion to move towards the couple, but as the American woman extended her arm for Ivy she forced herself to seem comfortable.
The woman chuckled to herself as they began to walk, arms linked. Komatsu walked by their side like a security guard and the crowd parted to let them through, the couple seeming to have some influence over the other party goers. “My Japanese name is Kumiko, but you may call me Kimberly since we are both American. And thank you for not staring my tic.”
Chapter 2.
Her mouth dropped open.
“You disapprove?” Kimberly whispered in Ivy’s ear as the two women watched Komatsu remove his white shirt from their position lying on the large bed. Ivy had correctly guessed the gymnast’s body, but had not been prepared for ornamental dragon tattoo that completely covered Komatsu’s upper body, its serpentine tail wrapping around his torso. Several scales and tendrils had been drawn to complement both jaggered and straight scars. The dragons body had partly been disfigured by a circular wound with a red aerial (a gunshot wound on his left pectoral) where fairy tales say the heart is. On his right shoulder the cheese-grater texture indicated a healed large and serious burn. Ivy gasped at the realization that at some point in time Komatsu had been on fire. Ivy nervously looked at Komatsu’s right hand. The upper part of his pinky was missing, a tell tale sign of the Yakuza. The reaction of the drunkard, and the space given to him as they left suddenly made sense to Ivy.
“Ivy” Kimberly said from her side, and Ivy tuned away from Komatsu to face her. As she did so Kimberly place her hand around the back of her neck and lent in to kiss her. As she pulled back from the kiss Ivy instructed “Lay still. Just watch.” Ivy backed away and stretched out along the edge of the bed in the red lace underwear she’d been wearing under her dress. As Komatsu climbed onto it the bed he did not head for Ivy but crawled toward his wife, kissing her legs and then thighs as he worked his way to her midriff. There he pulled away the tiny panties she’d been wearing under her black dress and licked at her sex. Kimberly started breathing hard and clutched Komatsu’s short hair with her fingers, holding him in place. Ivy realized that her company (as far as she knew) was to witness the act of them making love. The act didn’t seem tawdry as the couple grew more excited by each other. They seemed passionate and Ivy watched silently, in part happy her record as being chased despite her profession would remain intact. Despite her self-consciousness she felt intimidated by the expertise the two showed. They were experienced at pleasing, and their attention was solely on each other.
After Kimberly was brought closer to climax Komatsu pulled his head away and quickly drew his body up so the couple were face to face. Komatsu was hung in contrast to the myth about Japanese men and with knowledge of her body thrust into her. Ivy noted that despite heavy breathing Komatsu made no sounds, whilst Kimberly groaned and vocalized her pleasure. The sex was fast and involved drawn out thrusts, but from her own experience Ivy knew Komatsu had gone down on her so they would be in sync when it came to climax.
The sex itself did not take long, Komatsu coming only seconds after Kimberly. Passion spent Komatsu slumped onto of his wife and kissed her neck affectionately. Kimberly giggled, indulgent in the attachment her lover expressed. “Do you want to eat now, or should we shower first?” She lifted Komatsu’s head and looked into his eyes.
Ivy watched, but she could not discern and indicating of preference from the silent man. Kimberly seemed to however. Whether a subtle turn of the mouth or, or movement of the eyes gave her the answer she did not know, but Kimberly began to rise from beneath him. Ivy, unsure of her function rose with them, but as the couple moved to leave the bed Kimberly said, “Just wait here Ivy, we’ll be back shortly. Make yourself at home.”
Ivy hid her confusion, but was happy; it was easy money just watching.
The couple walked naked to the adjoining bathroom and Ivy slumped back on the comfortable bed as the sound of the shower started “Weirdo’s” she said, when they were out of earshot. She examined the room. The painting she’d been standing beside rested against the far wall, canvas hidden. The décor of the bedroom was stylish, and she could see Kimberly’s Western taste everywhere, but the lamps, furniture, and carpet all had the Japanese/French labels so desired by the upper class of Tokyo. Whoever Komatsu was to the Yakuza, he was paid very well. Ivy knew how much money she was getting for tonight, how much the escort agency charged for her services was another magnitude again.
From the ensuite Kimberly’s groans could be heard. The couple was at it again. Ivy decided the second time would take longer, and she was curious to explore the apartment. She climbed off the bed and walked silently on the carpet out of the bedroom into the hall in her red panties and bra. The apartment wasn’t dark, dimmed lights illuminated her path past a study and dining room. At the back of the apartment was the entertaining suite. Ivy clicked the light switch and lit the room properly; she wanted to see how the couple entertained. There was no television or stereo. Three armless Vienna sofa’s lined an enclosed pit fireplace which dominated the centre of the room. Above it the silent fan of a smoke extraction exhaust lay still, and the chimney that must have come out the other end was hidden. A large cauldron sat in the centre of the fire place and its rustic feel was complemented by the slate tiles. Obviously the couple entertained around the fireplace, though it was not economical by design. Ivy marveled at the opulence of the room; from the earth toned walls to the fusion art (not like the painting she’d been standing in front of) that blended the modern and feudal aesthetics of the room. The only unharmonious feature of the room was the industrial switch, which hung from the ceiling on a cable so it could be positioned anywhere. Ivy guessed it was to raise and lower the cauldron based on the wire that hung above it.
“Do you like it?” Ivy whisked around quickly to see Kimberly standing behind her wrapped in a towel. She had not expected the shower to end so soon.
“It’s.. Aw… It’s very nice.” Ivy stuttered lost for words. Kimberly was dry but her hair was still wet, whatever the couple had been up to in the shower had been cut short. Perhaps they had wanted her company and Kimberly had come to find her.
“It’s our happy place.” Kimberly said walking around Ivy the running her fingers over one of the sofa’s seductively. “My tic, never twitches in this room.” Kimberly removed her towel, standing naked between the fire pit and Ivy. “Come here Ivy.” She said.
Ivy reluctantly moved forward, fearing that she would have to earn her money after all. She moved to Kimberly and lent forward to kiss her. The act of contrition was interrupted when Kimberly put her hand over Ivy’s mouth. Ivy was confused.
“There’s no need for that Ivy. We’d like you to do something else for us.” Kimberly reached over to the blind spot in one of the sofa’s and removed a metal and leather arrangement of chains and straps.
Ivy’s confusion grew, and this time unease was added to it.
“Hold your arms out please.” Kimberly said.
Ivy realized the contraption in her hands were shackles and took a step back. “Um…. I don’t… this is not on the menu, I don’t do these kind of services.” Ivy took another step back, but hit something both solid and soft. Komatsu was standing directly behind, blocking her backward retreat. His hands came up and clutched Ivy’s shoulders. Ivy gasped and stared at the missing half of his finger.
“Tender, little Ivy. You have no idea what’s on the menu.” Kimberly said, and gently clasped Ivy’s wrist and moved them to a submissive position in front of her body.
Ivy held still, for the first time fearful of Komatsu and what he was capable of. “Please. I’m sorry, I just want to go.” Ivy said, but her plea did not halt Kimberly as she fastened the shackles to Ivy’s wrists.
“Services have been paid for, and services will be rendered.” Kimberly said, and tilted her head to the side with a smile. She looked terrifyingly beautiful. “Open your mouth.” Kimberly produced a silk scarf is a knot in the middle out of nowhere.
“No, please…….” She did not get to finish.
Kimberly swiftly pushed the scarf into her mouth and leaned in to tie it behind Ivy’s head. As she did so Ivy, felt the grasp from Komatsu intensify as if to warn her not to resist. The couple was practice at team bondage.
Ivy whimpered through her gag unpleased with the turn of events. The couple had seemed beyond being taken in by her looks, but now Kimberly was relishing in them. Both of the woman’s hands came up and tested Ivy’s healthy breast, applying gentle pressure.
“Lovely.” She said, and them glided her hands down the conforms of Ivy’s body to her waist and then hips. As she did so she bent her knees, dropping down to the floor. When hand hands past Ivy’s hips her fingers curled around the lace strapping of her panties and pulled down. Once past her broad hips the elastic had no effect and Kimberly was merely guiding them past her thighs towards the floor, testing the suppleness of her flesh as she did so. She rose staring intently into Ivy’s nervous expression, leaving her bra intact. “It isn’t apparent is it? Your kind never expects it. But in retrospect, it will be so obvious; and you’ll wonder why you didn’t scream.” She reached for the switch which hung from the ceiling and pressing the button called from the chain that hung over the cauldron. It came without Kimberly breaking her stare into Ivy’s eyes, growing in apprehension.
Komatsu, ever silent, lessoned his grip on Ivy as Kimberly fastened the latch to the centre eyelet of her shackles.
“There are two strategies in this situation. One is to keep your feet in the water till it grows hot and then remove them. The other is to hold them out of the water so they don’t slowly cook as the temperature of the water gently rises.” Kimberly smile in again in powerful exquisiteness. “Both have the same result.” She clicked the button on the pulley and Kimberly arms began to rise above her head. A moment later she was on tip toes, then she lost contact with the ground, her feet kicked at the air and she began her journey to her new station above the cauldron. She made no effort to hide the discomfort she felt as her own weight stretched her body as she hung helpless over the cauldron. She didn’t scream until Komatsu came forward with a cigarette light and ignited the charcoals in the pit below her.
Ivy whimpered rhythmically in distress. With her arms suspended above her head and her body pulling down against the shackles, her chest had a vice like grip around it. She had to lift her body up with her shoulders to get a lung full of air. But her shoulders were not the only muscles aching with fatigue. She’d been lowered over the cauldron till her feet had been dipped in the water. At first she had left them there, but as the temperature of the water increased she’d had to lift them out, Kimberly’s cryptic comment suddenly making sense. She knew she would not be able to keep her legs bent and raised forever. With the difficulty breathing and the ever seemingly increase weight of her legs, she knew soon she would have to straighten out and dip her feet. The water was only getting hotter.
“She has wonderful breast.” Kimberly said from her position lounging on one of the sofas. Komatsu was wrapped around her, stroking her affectionately. “It’s not too late, do you think Gia would like another cow.” She turned her head to her husband.
Komatsu shook his head, indicating she would not be spared.
“Pity.” Kimberly said and after a pause “She’s doing very well. It’s slightly annoying; I’m hungry.”
The couple turned their attention back to Ivy who had long ago realized this wasn’t just a simple act of bondage. For a moment her left calf gave way and her toes dipped in the water. She screamed through her gag and pulled her foot out. The water was unbearable now, nearly at boil. Tiny bubbles were appearing along the metal surface of the cauldron and rising to the surface.
“It won’t be long now.” Kimberly said and reached around behind her body for her husband’s penis. She tugged on it gentle and glided her hand over his stiffening member. “Any second now.”
As Kimberly finished speaking Ivy’s shoulders failed to lift her body up so her diaphragm could pull the air in. She choked and in desperation straightened her body. She wailed, short of air, as her feet plopped into the water. Her eyes bulged in their sockets and she thrashed about, unable to find the strength to lift her feet again.
“There we go.” Kimberly said, and stopped arousing her husband to reach for the button. From her relaxed position we consigned her victim to be submerged. The chain on the pulley wound slowly down and Ivy’s muffled screams intensified as she was lowered into the cauldron. Ivy’s body convulsed and splashed the near boiling water around. Her rhythmic whimpers now replaced with a scream from every breath. She was completely absorbed by the searing pain and could not see Komatsu roll on top of Kimberly, his penis erect, aroused by her suffering. As she received her husband Kimberly released the button and Ivy was left thrashing about, submerged to her naval. As the effects of being cooked set in Ivy’s resistance to the heat grew less, and as the water came to boil she hung near unconscious cooking whilst her captors made love to her reflex cries and twitches of pain.
Chapter 3.
“Ivy sweaty. Wake up.”
Ivy felt her face being slapped gently by a soft hand.
“Ivy honey. You’re missing the best part.” It was Kimberly’s voice.
Ivy forced her eyes open. She was still in the room, but she felt strange. Her shoulders ached and she could feel the cool shale flooring against her back, but nothing more. “Why can’t I feel my legs?” She looked up at Kimberly. She had gone into shock, and her mind did not recall the necessary information to bring about the flight instinct.
“Your legs are cook through Ivy.” Kimberly said. She was lying on her belly looking at her prey as if she was the object of her affection. “Look here.”
Kimberly placed her hands behind Ivy’s head and lifted it so she looked down her body. At her feet Komatsu knelt, one of Ivy legs in his arms. His head was buried in the sole of her foot and Ivy heard a gnawing sound. “What’s he doing?” Ivy asked dazed. As if on cue Komatsu bit down again and tore at a strip of flesh. As the meat was stretching out Ivy saw him wrap his lips around the exposed flesh and bight down. From her state of shock Ivy didn’t scream, but through slurred words asked “Is he eating me?” She looked up at Kimberly who was cradling her head gently and smiling with fondness.
“Yes Ivy. He’s eating you.”
“W..Wh…Why?” Ivy asked. Unable to process the information she was absorbing.
“Because you’re beautiful Ivy. Komatsu and I eat beautiful things.” Kimberly paused and then looked at Ivy sternly. “If I eat too will you scream?”
Ivy still couldn’t comprehend the situation.
“Ivy?”
The edge of Ivy’s vision was fuzzy, and periodically bright dots would appear overlapping her vision. She felt weak and just wanted comfort. The only comfort to be had was in Kimberly’s approval. “No. I won’t scream.” Ivy licked her lips. She felt thirsty.
“Good girl.” Kimberly said, placed her head down and crawled along the floor till her face was in line with Ivy’s thigh. A moment later the sound of Komatsu eating was joined by Kimberly as she delicately nibbled away at Ivy’s thighs.
Ivy tried to watch, but the effort of raising her head on her own was to great so finally she lay still as the couple ate their fill.
The White Glove Society 7: The Good. The Bad. The Necessary. (Part 1)
By ninja5.
Introduction.
“All right” Kaley clapped her hands twice, “That’s it for today. Good work.” The ballet teacher dipped her head to the class, and then turned to her things by the back wall. The class of about a dozen of Harvard’s selected dancers walked about the room chaotically. The murmur of polite exchanges and sighs of relief drifted into the background as one student eyed Kaley Morris with an unusual (and secret) appetite.
Cassandra Blake stood at the back of the class as the students drifted out. She’d recently only been permitted into the exclusive first division class after a friend made a sizable donation to the ballet program on her behalf. At first Kaley had frowned upon her presence in the class. Cassandra did not have the skills the other girls, many of whom had dedicated their life to the art. But the donation meant that Cassandra could learn, and as she worked and increased in skill, every subtle smile of approval from Kaley fueled her fantasy.
Cassandra had been guided into a world of decadents by sensualists from a secret Society, and since she’d seen Kaley dance; her lust had fallen upon her beautiful ballet teacher. As the last student drifted out of the room Cassandra nervously walked towards Kaley. She stood at the front of the private room removing her ballet slippers; she did not see Cassandra’s silent approach. “Miss Morris?” Cassandra said softly.
Kaley bolted upright, startled by the proximity of her student. She composed herself “Oh, you startled me Miss Blake.” Her voice was polite, but not friendly. She turned her attention back to removing her slippers. “You’re improving, I’ll give you that. You obviously danced up until recently. I can see old habits returning.”
Cassandra eyes the muscular legs as her teacher stretched down. She followed the supple flesh up to the firm buttocks. Her teacher did not hear the quite sigh she made as she straighter herself and the gentle detail in her belly showed. Each individual muscle creating a delicious rise and fall as it molded around the next muscle in a sculptured delight.
Cassandra’s mouth started to water, but she asked anyway “I was wondering if you’d like to get a coffee?” She’d said, nervous like a teenager asking a popular boy out.
Kaley turned and leant her back against the bar running along the back wall, chest sticking out. The move was showy, but Kaley was obviously very pleased with her body and had the confidence that came with it. Perhaps she could tell by the inflection in Cassandra’s voice that there was a sexual motive behind the request. As she put her weight on the bar, her belly tensed flat, and Cassandra felt the warm moisture of arousal, her chest flushed (though it was covered by a sweet shirt). “I don’t socialize with students.” There was an air of superiority in Kaley’s voice, and she did not make eye contact, which meant she did not notice Cassandra’s lick her lips as she eyed the ballet teacher’s body.
As Kaley raised her head to look at her student to push home the point, Cassandra raised her eyes to meet her teachers, her purveying undetected. “Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Cassandra stepped away still facing Kaley Morris as if hopeful for a last minute change of mind.
“Miss Blake.” Kaley called as Cassandra left the dance studio.
“Yes” Cassandra said turning back hopefully.
“Your Aplomb needs work. Try and improve it during tomorrow’s class.”
Cassandra’s head dropped disappointed. “Yes Miss Morris.” She left the studio conflicted. Cassandra did not make any effort to hide from herself her lust for her meat, but she knew it was probably in Kaley’s best interest to keep her distance from her.
Chapter 1.
“No she wouldn’t come out for coffee. She doesn’t socialize with students.” Cassandra had taken to calling her Mistress almost every day since her turning. Gia’s advice seemed to have no limit and Cassandra found if she explained a situation clearly, Gia would come up with the most delightful solutions.
“Just give me her last name; I’ll have someone collect her for you.” Gia voice was confident as always and casual even when speaking of abduction.
“No Mistress, I have to do this on my own or I’m never going to learn.” Cassandra walked along the edge of the bleachers of the practice football ground. Harvard’s team was not their but a visiting team from Oregon was doing their prep for the game tomorrow.
“Sweetie, you’re just starting out. Everyone needs help when they start, it’s how you learn. I had to do my first stalk on my own and it took me two years.”
“You’re first stalk was the Autumn Estate Manager, and you usurped her.” Cassandra chuckled and felt a buzz at knowing one of Gia’s secrets. She had been the House Keeper at the Estate in her early days. Through a master-stroke of manipulation Gia had turned on the Estate Manager and served her up as dinner and then taken her place. Despite flaunting this small power through knowledge over her Mistress she knew she wouldn’t be punished.
“It shouldn’t be difficult to find her last name. A Google search will probably give it to me.”
“Mistress no! I want to seduce her like I did you.” Cassandra’s voice had a sentimental tinge to it. Through her liberal captivity, and the rewards given to her she had become quiet emotional for her early days with her Mistress. The memories of the torture and uncertainty at being dinner now seemed like an initiation into a limitless future.
“Cassy, you didn’t seduce me. I saw a girl of great potential caught up in a helpless situation. The only way you could seduce your ballet teacher is if you provoked the same feeling through her love of dance.”
Cassandra was silent.
“Are you good enough at ballet to do that?”
“No.” Cassandra said sadly.
“Then I would suggest another type of ploy.” Gia paused for a moment. “I’ll arrange a visit to your class from a friend of the Society. He is not one of us, but he has certain proclivities which means he travels in our circles. If your teacher sees you with him, she may come to you.”
“Thank you Gia. I have to go, I’m meeting Randy.”
“Ok. I love you Cassy.” Gia said in parting.
“I love you too Mistress.” Cassandra hung up the phone, the journey along the bleachers completed. Randy Kennedy stood in front of her smiling in his Harvard football team jacket. Perfect hair; perfect face; perfect body; and annoyingly confident. “I thought the Harvard team wasn’t allowed to watch the visiting team practice?”
“There just training. They’re not practicing plays. Besides, the teams coach is a big fan of my great uncle.” Randy grinned. Being a Kennedy opened most doors for him.
Cassandra turned from Randy to his entourage of one. “Hey Gredlar. What’s up?” Cassandra smiled at Randy’s hulking friend who had risen onto the team this past year. He had been the substitute quarter back, Randy’s understudy, but his hulking size meant he could clear almost anyone out of a runner’s path. Playing a new position he’d easily gotten a game. He was not what Cassandra perceived as intelligent, but he had kinetic instincts and his presence deterred those who wanted to take Randy down a notch for being so smug.
“Hey Cassy. You look real pretty in your dance clothes.” Gredlar had been firmly told by Randy that Cassandra was not to be treated in any way like a piece of meat. Randy had told Cassandra that every time Gredlar thought about doing something bad to her, he had been instructed to say something sweet. It was Randy’s strange way of bringing the two together so they could hang out.
“Thanks Gredlar. Do we need to get you something to take the edge of your urges?” Cassandra stepped forward and ran her fingers over Gredlar’s massive biceps. She’d taken to flirtation with Gredlar, not through attraction, but as a means of offering him affection which would not be reciprocated in a sex crime. She did the same for Randy. The behavior had started at the request of her Mistress who wanted Cassandra to make the real world a little more accessible to Randy.
“No. I don’t indulge before a game. Need my Mojo.” Gredlar paused. “But it’s after the game that’s when we get to celebrate. And that’s why we’re here.”
Cassandra turned back to Randy. “Win or lose the opposing team is going to celebrate.” Randy surveyed the field and then pointed to a group of cheerleaders stretching along the boundary line. “The question is which one do we take for our little celebration. We can’t get close enough to check them out without causing a face-off with the other team’s players.”
Cassandra knew what Randy wanted. “You want me to go over there?” She asked making it official.
“If you could.” Randy smiled and is eyes shone with attraction at Cassandra. Not in an attempt to seduce her, but out of habit. Randy had never had a girlfriend he didn’t eat (or try to eat), and so was slightly retarded when it came to dealing with women as equals. As much as he was helping Cassandra live her new lifestyle, she was helping him deal with women in a manner that wouldn’t draw attention when he worked around outsiders.
“Ok. What do you want; a picture?”
“What I want is someone with stamina. Someone who’s going to survive having their limbs amputated and organs removed.” Randy looked intently at Cassandra, his dark side looming as he divulged his intent. The plan as revealed didn’t turn Cassandra on; in fact she found Randy’s hobbies a little beneath what Gia had offered her. Randy (despite his breeding) and Gredlar lacked the sophistication some of the other members of the Society displayed.
Cassandra hid her distaste and was not worried for her own safety around him. She knew Randy would never practice his arts on her; she was protected by Gia. If her Mistress was to ever turn on her, it would be a personnel encounter between the two of them. “Ok. Healthy, with stamina. And just a touch of fighting spirit.” Cassandra turned to walk around the boundary line to the gaggle of cheerleaders, as she did so she winked at Gredlar. The wink struck at Randy’s ego and bought Gredlar’s insatiable hormones to the surface. Cassandra was beginning to see how Gia controlled the men of the Society by playing them against each other, even though all they did was eat women like her.
The walk to the opposite side of the field was short and the team’s officials did not worry about Cassandra as she walked to watch the cheerleaders. It was not ballet, and Cassandra hoped she was not becoming a snob as she watched the visiting cheerleaders run a rough rehearsal of their routine. All of the girl’s bodies were honed and tight, any would make a beautiful companion for Randy’s surgical table, but she had to look for something that would entice Randy and Gredlar, similar to the way Kaley had caught her attention. It could be the smallest thing; an inflection in the voice; a hint at liking rough sex; a trusting nature. Cassandra studied the girls, eliminating the more plain looking ones from contention. The girls broke routine and all started jumping up and down in a combination of mock celebration and warm down. After a moment they seemed satisfied with their rehearsal and the centre girl moved forward and turned. “Ok. Run a lap and then come back.” The Head Cheerleader turned Ninety degrees and started running, all the girls taking off after her. Suddenly Cassandra was at jeopardy of being left alone without a prize name to take back to the boys.
A single cheerleader remained and she was smiling at Cassandra. “Hi, how’s it going?” She said friendly. Her body language was open, she seemed extraverted and trusting.
The boxes were being ticked in Cassandra’s mind. “You’re not running?” She said without answering the cheerleader’s question.
She was a blond shorter than Cassandra and she had wavy blond shoulder length hair and a pretty face with a big mouth and big brown eyes. “No, Britney’s a pushover.” The cheerleader said referring to her leader. She was wearing her Oregon Ducks uniform, a tiny green and black skirt with a crop top. Cassandra worked hard not to stare at her tanned midriff and ruin the friendly encounter. “I’m Violet; I’m from Tigard, Oregon.” The girl walked forward and smiled, her body bubbling with friendly energy.
“Hi Violet, I’m Cassandra, I……”
“Where you talking to Randy Kennedy, the Crimsons Quarterback?” Violet interrupted Cassandra mid-sentence. The smile was large on her face, and Cassandra had the urge to pause and see how the young strumpet would cope keeping the smile if kept waiting.”
“Yes.” Cassandra replied, suddenly thinking her work would be easy.
“Is he really JFK’s nephew?
“Great nephew.” Cassandra corrected. “He’s studying medicine.”
To Cassandra’s dismay the smile on Violet’s face grew larger. “I just think the Kennedy’s are the best. Do you think I could meet him?”
Cassandra had gone over to the cheerleaders with an entire ploy invented. She would pretend to ask questions about dancing and training, all under the cover of her Ballet studies. None of that seemed required. Violet was a fish jumping out of the water into the boat. “What are you doing after the game tomorrow?” Cassandra asked after giving Violet another look over, to ensure she was as beautiful as she first perceived. Her tight tanned skin over her fit and toned ample muscle suggested fitness and stamina, as well as healthy eating.
“Nothin’” Violet paused. “Well I can get out of hangin’ with the girls.” Violet was creeping towards Cassandra with eagerness.
“Well Randy is having a small party back at his place after the game; if you like I could tell him about you.”
Violet seemed to have reached her peek of excitement. “Yeah that would be great. I mean, thanks Cassandra.”
“Call me Cassy.” Cassandra stepped forward and handed Violet one of Randy’s business cards. Give him a call at about Eight PM to make sure it’s Ok to come over. It’s a kind of a cool-down thing he does after a game, so don’t tell anyone.”
Violet nodded enthusiastically as Cassandra handed her the card and then marveled at it.
“I’ll let you get back to it. See you tomorrow Violet.” Cassandra stepped back and the ecstatic Violet placed the card in her sport top, before waving with dancing fingers and taking of around the field to catch her team mates. Cassandra stood in place, marveling at how stupid people were. She entertained the notion of how the populous would react if they ever learned about the White Glove Society and their practices of eating women. Before she headed back to Randy and Gredlar she saw Violet run past them standing by the bleachers. Violet turned to her side and waved at the boys, again with dancing fingers. Cassandra decided she would not tell them how the mythos around Randy’s family had scored them an easy meal. She would make them think she was magic.
Chapter 2.
Cassandra felt a little nauseous as Gredlar picked up Dakota like a baby and rocked her in his arms as if trying to put her to sleep. The scarred stubs of flesh where all four limbs had once been disturbed her, but Dakota’s heavily pregnant state directly unhinged her. Dakota was Gredlar’s fuck-pet, a girl taken and eaten but left to live out her existence helpless to the insatiable needs of her owner. The crippled girl whined in distress as Gredlar sang “Mary had a little lamb to her”, an erection visible through his cargo pants.
“Don’t stress about Dakota.” Randy said to Cassandra bringing her a glass of water as she sat in Randy’s living room. “She went insane months ago.”
Cassandra took the glass of water and then looked into Dakota’s eyes. She had a desperate mania in her stare. “What about her baby?” Cassandra said, concerned like any normal woman would be.
“We’re sending it to Saudi Arabia to be raised, and keeping Dakota to milk.” Randy not use to entertaining women other than to seduce and trap them was at a loss to comfort Cassandra. “We ate Dakota’s cousin. The family was pretty, so the baby should be too. It’ll make a great piece of meat when it grows up.” Randy’s attempted assurances were as inept as his compassion.
“Just tell Gredlar to put her away, he looks like he’s ready to fuck her in front of us.” Cassandra said motivated to give Dakota some compassion, and concern that Violet might arrive without having called first.
Randy, despite his heritage of leadership obeyed Cassandra’s order. “Gredlar, take Dakota out back to your room and put her down for the night.”
Gredlar still rocking Dakota stopped singing and started walking to his room. Cassandra guess when they got there he would probably force himself on the pregnant pet behind closed doors. The act of sex would not sate his appetite for long; he was frustrated at the loss to Oregon.
“You seem a little distant Cassy. You worried about getting caught?”
Cassandra looked up at Randy from her seat and gave him a reassuring smile. “No. We never get caught.” She said in reference to the Society as a whole. “I think I feel guilty.”
Randy startled in his expression. “What do you mean?” He took a seat next to Cassandra on the sofa and lent in.
Cassandra turned, confident in her feelings, “The time you met me at the Autumn Estate was my first experience with the Society. To be honest I thought I was going to get to screw some hot guys.” Cassandra paused.
Randy smiled at the memory of Cassandra trapped in her slinky bikini, which she’d worn to impress him, at an Estate filled with cannibals.
Cassandra saw the chance to give Randy a dose of normal affection despite the topic of conversation. She leant forward and placed her hand on his. He looked slightly nervous, but Cassandra knew it was only through someone like her that he would learn affection.
“We are at the apex of our society, so we can do what we please, but sometimes the things that we do imply we’re rather……… crude!”
“I’m not sure I follow.” Randy said, Cassandra’s contact calming his ego so that he listened intently.
“Raping and brutal mutilation of a victim is not the same as seducing, capturing and taming one into an oven.” Cassandra stroked the back of Randy’s hand with her fingers drawing him into the intimacy that would follow. She raised herself up and leant in, her face close to Randy’s, the distance between them diminished, but not the tension she had created. Randy was in a comfortable place, experienced with woman as he was. Cassandra was replying on the fact that being something he hadn’t stalked for sadism she might have the upper hand however.
“You think I’m crude?” Randy said trying to be suave despite the description of his surgical practices.
But Cassandra had learnt her confidence from Gia, and the waver in his voice confirmed her early seduction. “Sometimes. You need to shape up if you’re ever going to make it outside the Society’s world.” She could feel heat radiating off Randy, a signal that she too was flushed with the moment. Randy stayed still, no doubt used to women’s advances and clearly wanting Cassandra to make the final step of the prelude to a kiss.
Cassandra knew Gia would never forgive her if she let Randy have her so easily. She relaxed her body despite her attraction to Randy and slumped back into her seat, not indulging in the kiss.
Randy’s earlier look of surprise returned.
“You’ll get there Randy.” Cassandra said, blowing off the moment and implying that Randy confidence had failed him. She knew from her phone conversations with Gia that she wanted her to have some effect on his life. When Cassandra had developed as an adolescent she’d noticed a change in the way men looked at her. Her education into the Society offered another period of sexual empowerment, and she planned to develop her skills like her Mistress had.
Randy looked confused and a little hurt feelings he would not have had if he didn’t admire Cassandra. The realization that she was important to him combined with her criticism was intended to drive home her message of becoming more sophisticated in his methods of acquiring his victims. His education was interrupted by his mobile phone ringing. He lent forward and pulled it from the pocket of his slacks. A smile grew over his face, “Violet. Yes my friend told me about you.” Randy’s confidence had returned like Cassandra expected it always would. What was important was that it returned to be used with his education.
Cassandra could hear the excited chatter from the speaker on Randy’s phone.
“Yeah, you can come over.”
Cassandra raised her finger to interject.
“One second.” Randy put his hand over the receiver.
“Do you really want to bring her hear straight away? Shouldn’t you get to know her a little first so her reactions mean something?” Cassandra pushed the point, she was eager to have some influence over Randy to report to Gia.
Part of Randy’s practice charmed was his compliance with women’s wishes. “Hey Violet, change of plans. Would you like to go out?” Randy smiled as he heard the excited conformation. “Great, I’ll come by and pick you up.” Randy looked excited, the intimacy with Cassandra already forgotten at the excitement of a stalk.
Cassandra didn’t mind so long as he didn’t become immune to her. She still had the advantage that he could never follow through with his lust and feed on her. With luck she would be able to influence his habits more to her liking. She had come to realize what Gia searched for in her indulgences was a conception of her victim’s psychology. Once psychology was in play, intelligence in her actions followed, and as she learned from people, the intricacy created sophistication and offered education. It was something she intended to use from the start to fend off the consequences of her actions on her victims.
Randy collected the keys to his sports car. “You gonna be here for the meal Cassy?” Randy said as he rose to collect his victim.
“No, I have to go home and work on my Aplomb.” Cassandra rose and stood beside Randy who was still and looking at her intently. Cassandra realized that despite the momentary distraction of Violet, the intimacy of her advances had lingered over. She smiled at him.
“You’re a smart girl Cassy. Too good to eat.”
Cassandra was slightly thrown by Randy’s confession. “Go seduce Violet Randy” she replied, not sure what to make of the possibly permanent development of Randy’s respect. Despite her physical attraction to him, she knew his eating habits were not those of her Mistress, and that her Mistress would not permit her to compromise on her lifestyle for a man.
Randy nodded and walked out the front door.
Cassandra, out of habit, picked up her finished glass of water and took it to the kitchen. As she returned to the living room to collect her things to go home to Anetta she heard Gredlar’s downstairs door slam open.
The worst slavery had to offer happen. Gredlar hastily stormed into the living rooms wearing no pants. “Fucking bitch.” He yelled, agitated as he paced backwards and forwards ignorant to Cassandra shock at his behavior.
“GREDLAER!” Cassandra yelled in shocked, and as an order for him to cover himself. Michael Gredlar stood in front of her, penis erect, angry for some reason. Gelatin like fluid covered his crotch and was mingled with blood.
“Bitches water broke whilst I was fucking her.” He said oblivious to Cassandra’s insistence on modesty.
“What!” Cassandra yelled horrified that anger to Dakota’s situation would be an annoyance to him. She pushed past him and ran down the hall to the room of Randy’s house she had never entered. She was oblivious to the surgical tools and table which furnished the room and served as Gredlar’s decorating and stared at poor Dakota as she wailed in pain in the otherwise soundproof room. Dakota stared at her through her insanity, what humanity she had left seemed to understand her situation and was pleading for help.
Gredlar having calmed through his outburst move to her side, his pants still missing.
“Call Randy.” Cassandra said in a panic.
“What?!” Gredlar said his voice rising in pitch. “If you interrupt him, he won’t bring home any meat.”
Cassandra breathed deeply and gathered her panic into angry resolve. “Gredlar” she said through curled lips, “We don’t harm babies.”
“Fuck the baby, let’s just kill her.”
Cassandra turned and rammed her knee into Gredlar’s groin. The heavy weight buckled and collapsed to his knees with a squeal. The act calmed Cassandra and she moved to Dakota’s side, instinct telling her to comfort the deranged girl. “It’s going to be Ok Dakota” Cassandra said stroking her brow. The kindness took the edge of the poor slave’s desperation. Cassandra had a sickening feeling as Dakota stared at her as if she could bring her mercy. Cassandra realized she had to protect this child and immediately pulled out her mobile phone to call Randy back from his seduction of the simple Violet. Gredlar was still on the floor wailing selfishly.
Chapter 3.
Cassandra sat at the bar, watching the bar-tender hitting on a couple of sluted up co-eds on the other side. Up until recently she wouldn’t have recognized the rehearsed manner with which the bar tender plied his trade. The girls were older than Cassandra but they were buying every line he dropped, caught up in a fit of giggles as the free drinks kept coming. Up until her first visit to the Autumn Estate and meeting Gia, she realized she was just as naive, but now she saw people playing games from every angle, their Id’s needs forming their motivations. She knew she was no different, and at the moment she felt just a dirty as the worst of them.
Randy had returned upon her request, but not without take-away. As he entered his home he carried an unconscious Violet in his arms, his experiment in seduction canceled. Gredlar glared at Cassandra with rage as she assisted in the birth, the first she had been privy too. When the process, cut short through the application of a C-section, had been completed Cassandra took the baby in her arms and nurtured it, whilst Randy stitched up the unconscious Dakota (her suffering not yet over). The baby girl cried its first moments in the world a shock and the sudden realization of where the Societies servants came from made Cassandra felt dirty. Randy made a call, and an hour later a woman in neat clothing came to collected the washed and still crying baby girl, to be taken away overseas to be raised.
Cassandra tapped the tall shot glass on the bar. The bar-tender looked over his shoulder and apologized to the two girls and came to serve Cassandra another drink. As he poured the measure of top shelf vodka into the glass Cassandra, having already had several, leant forward and said to him, “You do realize I’m not twenty-one, don’t you.” She said daring the bartender not to serve her. All she really wanted was to be judged and condemned for something so she didn’t have to feel so guilty. She rocked backward and forward on her stool, clearly feeling the effects of her four shots.
The bartender put the bottle back on the shelf and pushed the glass towards Cassandra. There was no flirtation, not like with the other girls. “Pretty girls are good for business.” He said. There was no hint of showing his attraction to Cassandra, but she had been on campus long enough to know when it was there. Most likely he could tell by Cassandra’s expression she was not interested in him. He simply nodded and turned away, heading back to take his pick of the two girls. As he did so Cassandra tired of the play being acted out before her and turned to see what was happening in the rest of the bar.
What looked like three Math majors all turned away as Cassandra turned to survey them. They were sitting in a booth and obviously had been checking her out. She smiled at the notion, and realized she was now the type of girl that carried baggage, and would generally be considered no good. Behind them in the next booth were a couple looking deeply into each other eyes and talking animatedly. They made Cassandra feel sad. The closest thing to a boyfriend she had was Randy, and as she had seen tonight he was deranged by his upbringing and the grandiose station people held him in. In the next booth were two plain looking girls, and they too seemed close. They made Cassandra think of her strange friendship with Anetta, her little Maid. Cassandra felt sadder thinking that Anetta would never be her equal. She’d been retarded and brainwashed by her upbringing as a servant.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be drinking.” Cassandra turned to the woman’s voice that had approached her directly from the entrance. She was Gia’s aged, mid to late thirties, and like Gia she had maintained her looks. She wore black pair of business slacks (boot cut), a white shirt and a black vest. She looked like a cop, but she wasn’t carrying a gun that Cassandra could see. “How’d you get a drink anyway?”
“Us pretty girls are good for business.” Cassandra raised her shot glass and in defiance to the natural authority the woman had and sunk it back, grimacing at the strength and trying not to show her inexperience at drinking.
“You really think they’d risk the fine just for one pretty girl?” The woman looked part Hispanic. She definitely had some ethnicity too her. She was over six foot tall and slender with and narrow but attractive face. She looked like she could be quiet expressive when not in her current authoritarian mood, but whilst in that mood looked as though she could handle herself in confrontation. “You seem to get into a lot of places without trying Cassandra Blake. How is that?”
Cassandra tried to assess the situation. “Are you a cop?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know my name?” Cassandra, not having all her faculties was relying on the anger she felt from her conflicted feelings.
“I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions Miss Blake?” The woman was bold.
“I think you should leave.” Cassandra said turning away from the woman.
“I think we should talk.” The woman quickly responded.
“Then I think I should go.” Cassandra said and started getting up.
“Do you need a lift?” The woman persisted.
“Look, I’m underage and drunk. The last thing I’m going to do is get in a car with a strange woman.” Cassandra collected her bag and pushed past the woman.
The woman did not stay behind, but followed Cassandra as she left the bar. “I’ve changed my mind. I want to buy you a drink.”
“Fuck off.” Cassandra snapped.
“Have a drink with me, or I’ll call the police and tell them Randal Kennedy and his House-mate are murdering a girl in his home.”
Cassandra stopped dead in her tracks.
“It’s only been an hour and a half. Whatever they’ve amputated will just about be cooked. I imagine they will be sitting down to eat it about the time the cops bash down the door.” The woman stood triumphant, having captured Cassandra’s full attention. She gestured to the back of the bar and an empty booth. “Come on Miss Blake. Your bartender friend can keep an eye on us, you’ll be perfectly safe.”
Cassandra not willing to risk betraying Randy and Gredlar began to walk to the booth, eyeing the woman cautiously as she pushed past her. The woman went to the bar and ordered two drinks, both non-alcoholic, before walking towards Cassandra as she sat on the edge of the booth seat, ready to run for the exit should she have to.
“Who are you?” Cassandra said, firmly and with the intent to report this woman to Gia to be dealt with.
As the woman sat she pressed her lips and touted at the question, as if Cassandra was foolish to even ask. “Miss Blake I prefer you didn’t know. I’m just an intermediary after all, and your Mistress has a habit of eating the messenger.” The woman towered over Cassandra even sitting down. She took a sip from her drink and smiled politely, “Have you ever wondered why the Society doesn’t eat whomever they like.”
Cassandra frowned not comprehending the question, from her experience they almost certainly did.
The woman observed Cassandra’s confusion and offered an explanation. “Why not eat a movie star or a playboy centerfold.” Finally the woman’s expressive nature was being displayed. The simple inflection of her hands emphasized her words and she continued. “Why haven’t the Victoria Secret Models been rounded up and subjected to the most depraved indulgences of the Society members. The reason Miss Blake; the thing that keeps the Society members in check, is the very people who allow the Society to function.” The woman reached into her pocket and pulled a gold badge out of her pocket. Cassandra recognized it from her days with her father on one of his campaigns; it was a gold NSA badge. “We protect the anonymity of the Society members and they adhere to keeping a low profile. It’s not in the interest of their victims, but it means the world can keep turning without the long standing corruptions of the elite causing a mass hysteria of the people.”
Cassandra still eyed the woman cautiously, but realized she was in no immediate danger.
“We protected your father, like we protected the Presidents and wealthy who were members. You may not have realized, but knowing that you too would become a member when you came of age means we have been keeping an eye on you too.” The woman rested her hands and then took another sip of her drink, allowing her information to sink in.
“You obviously want something from me.” Cassandra said, trying to get to the point, but her intent to get to the bottom of this reveal was perhaps at the cost of acquiring more information as to the background workings of the Society. She looked again at the NSA badge, memorizing the five digit Id number on it.
“Someone you are very close to is upsetting the balance of power.”
Cassandra knew what the woman was saying “Gia.” She said slightly shocked. She had never perceived Gia ever having to answer to anyone, not even Dalton her owner.
“Your Mistress is laying out a plan to extend her reach of influence over the world. Since she has no ties to the outside world; no family; no country of allegiance; no accountability outside the Society, we would prefer she not succeed in her endeavor.” The woman was not giving Cassandra any details. Perhaps she herself did not know what Gia was up to. It was possible she was just a messenger.
“What do you expect me to do?” Cassandra extended, trying to say as little as possible. If this woman was NSA she had to give her as little detail as possible. Cassandra realized with what they knew about her it was most likely her phone and home had been tapped, and her movements monitored. The woman probably knew the name of every girl Cassandra had been involved in killing.
She smiled as if Cassandra was an innocent for not picking up on the premise of her ploy. “We want you to usurp her Miss Blake.”
“Excuse me.” Cassandra said rhetorically.
“Use your time to gain influence in her Estate, and when you are secure in your position, usurp her; and indulge in her flesh.”
Cassandra mouth dropped at the woman’s intention to have her eat her Mistress. The expression on the woman’s face indicated she was very serious, and not at all squeamish at insisting an act of cannibalism. “Gia Eros will be dealt with by the end of the next fall. If you are still loyal to her then I’d say you’ll find yourself at the mercy of whoever takes her place.” The woman dropped the friendly act. “You’ll probably end up as dinner; or perhaps a breeder; or if you’re unlucky you’ll end up like the reporter Rosalita and never be allowed to die.”
Cassandra’s anger was kept in check by her fear of what she was being told.
“You’ve been warned Miss Blake.” The woman rose leaving her drink and walked to the exit without looking back.
Cassandra was left in the booth staring into space.
Chapter 4.
Gia Eros sat in the front row of the fashion show beside Roberto Cavalli. He sat in an attempt to appear relaxed, but the tension in his legs betrayed his nervousness at the reception his show would bring. Gia placed her hand on his thigh in reassurance and smiled without turning her head away from the girls who paraded along the catwalk an arms throw away. She had seen several dresses she like, some for herself and some for her House Keeper Lilianna. Cavalli had a habit of releasing his designs six months before other designers collections came out in spring, which would mean her dresses would be new come autumn. In addiction she was viewing the models, captivated with one in particular. Her body was lean, but Gia’s favorite cut of meat was seldom affected by waif weight, and the girl had an enticing range of variations of the vogue expression. Gia wanted to see her perform on her cross as she tested her with her silver needle.
Her meditations were interrupted by a suited attendant tapping her on the shoulder. Annoyed, but not showing it, she turned her attention away from the beauty of the show. The attendant silently apologized through gesture and expression and handed her a telegram. Gia nodded in thanks and turned back to the show curious. She sent telegrams but did not know anyone else who did. She opened it and noted the bordered “Urgent” label at the top centre of the message.
Gia.
Had a visit from NSA.
Badge Number 34931.
Need to talk securely.
Cassandra.
Gia looked back to the show giving no indication her mind was gearing itself for trouble. The model she had been admiring reentered the catwalk again in a dark brown short dress. As her long legs strutted down in stiletto’s her ankle rolled causing her to stumble momentarily but quickly recover, her expression giving no waver in light of the fumble. Cavalli tensed his fists at the blemish on an otherwise perfect display of his designs. Gia leant over subtly and whispered in his ear. “Don’t worry my old friend. I’ll take that one off your hands.”
Chapter 5.
Finding a place that sent telegrams was not an easy job. The task made more difficult by being inebriated and without transport. Rajesh the Indian taxi driver had made close to thousand dollars driving her to various dispatches and money exchange booths in the early hours of the morning. Finally Cassandra had tried the airport and succeeded in sending a dispatch to Gia. She hoped that the telegram was such an antiquated method of communication the NSA would not be able to trace or intercept it. Cassandra wished she could attribute her allegiance to Gia down to pure loyalty, but she knew the formidable task of challenging her near omnipotent Mistress played a role in her commitment to Gia. Despite the threat from her own Government, Gia seemed like the more dangerous sole to cross. A night of drinking, stress and no sleep had taken its toll. She could not concentrate on the instruction given by Kaley Morris as she walked along the line of students on the balance bar. Her voice rose to an authoritarian yell as she passed Cassandra, clearly displeased with her performance. Unhinged and too exhausted to be vexed Cassandra nervously shifted her head to see if the attention of her teacher was still on her.
“Miss Blake” Kaley snapped “Eyes forward, try to get something right today.” Her scathing review of Cassandra’s tired efforts was cut short by the sound of the studio door opening and closing.
“You should go easy on the girl; she’s clearly been kept up all night by something my dear.” The man spoke with a Baltic accent and wore a white suit and tied with black vest. He was in his late Fifties and his blemished face showed a proclivity to not protecting his skin from the sun.
Kaley Morris, graceful even in shock, turned her body to face the man. Her students could not see the humbling effect the proclaiming had on her. She knew his name to be Antoli Burkov, a Lithuanian master who had retired at his ballet peak and consulted at academies for exorbitant fees. “Chef Burkov……..” Kaley could not finish without a pause. She took a deep breath. “Girls to station” Kaley said and clapped her hands. The dancers all turned to face the visitor, who clearly didn’t need an invitation. The girls posed and Kaley glided to the head of the line waving open arms, presenting her students.
Antoli bowed his head at the respect and then flurried his hand as if to demonstrate the grace of the art he had master. “Forgive my intrusion young Mistress”, he said to Kaley. “I have an urgent message for Miss Blake from a mutual friend. I trust my interrupting your class is proof of its urgency” He turned his gaze to Cassandra.
Cassandra had heard his name in ballet circles, but had never met the man nor seen him dance. She guessed he was the “friend” Gia had spoken of whom would help gain Kaley’s attention.
“She looks like she could rest; perhaps I could give her the message whilst you conduct your class. Antoli gestured for Cassandra to take his side and he sat on a chair near the door of the studio. Cassandra turned to Kaley and bowed before walking over to the seat man. As she approached him he opened his arms and kissed her on the check. As he did so he whispered, “Laugh like we are close.”
Cassandra did her best moving back from the affection with the politician’s chuckle she’d learnt from her father. Antoli’s smile was much more genuine and they both took at seat. Kaley continued with her class, though visibly self conscious with Antoli watching.
“Chef Burkov, I’m afraid I’ve never had the pleasure of seeing you dance, but I have heard of you. Are you Gia’s friend?”
Antoli smiled, “Gia is rewarding my visit. I am at your service my meile. Tell me; how I can help you ensnare this dance mistress of yours.”
Cassandra thought for a moment. After seeing what had happened to Dakota and her child she had no present inclination to claim Kaley as her own.
Antoli seemed to pick up on her hesitation. “Something wrong my dear?”
“I saw them take an abducted woman’s baby.” Cassandra tilted her head and smiled as she said it, a ploy to throw of the serious nature of the point she had just raised.
“My little meile, do you doubt they will care for the child? All of the Society servants, all of them, are healthy and satisfied creatures. The baby will be cared for with acute attention to filling the role it is most suited for. It will not be abused with idiotic television and teen music; nor poisoned with fast food and soft drink. If it accepts the discipline that guides it, it may live a long a healthy life will with exorbitance and luxury.”
Cassandra knew the justification the Society members made for their acquiescence of slavery. It was a lie she had tried to convince herself of. Antoli was clearly a fan of the Society. If he was not a Society member then perhaps his indulgences differed from sexual cannibalism and slavery; or perhaps, Cassandra realized remembering a rumor she had heard as a younger dancer, he preferred those activities with men. “Cassandra, understanding a little with whom she was in bed with, felt a little more confident. “I’ve changed my mind about taking my ballet teacher. I’m moving on.”
Antoli looked shocked. “Oh no you don’t. I’m afraid I’m under specific instructions from your Mistress to have you carry on as usual.”
Cassandra was taken aback. “What has she told you?”
“That you are under scrutiny, and that you are to carry on as you would as though you are not being watched.” Antoli reached into his pocket and produced a telegram. “She thought sending it directly to you would arouse suspicion. Read it, and obey?” Antoli looked back at the class which was close to wrapping up.
With apprehension growing Cassandra read the telegram:
Dear Cassy.
Take your Ballet teacher as your own.
Maintain appearances at all costs.
I will collect you shortly.
Love Gia.
Cassandra folded the note twice and hid it from sight. She had been given her instructions, and whatever Gia’s solution was her role had been set for her. By practice she instantly composed herself, “Very well Chef Burkov. Join me in a ploy to have Kaley Morris come to my house for dinner. You needn’t attend the actual date.” Cassandra had fantasized about getting Kaley into the basement dungeon in her house ever since she’d been turned, but now it seemed like bad idea.
“As you wish my meile.” Antoli said wistfully.
Kaley clapped her hands as she always did signifying the end to training. Instead of removing her slippers and leaving like she always did she glided over to Antoli and Cassandra who both rose to greet her. Antoli would give his view of the class, and Cassandra would invite them both to dinner at her place where Kaley would become a permanent resident.
Chapter 6.
Kaley lay asleep like a fairytale princess in stark contrast to the sterile and cold basement. The heavy steel shackles on her wrists and ankles made the retro fifties sundress tell a tale of sexual submission. Cassandra nervously shook the fourth shackle for the third time, clearly nervous that when she awoke she would escape.
“She’s not going anywhere anytime soon my meile.” Antoli said from the top of the stairs. He’d come to Cassandra’s house under the guise of mentoring Cassandra in abduction; but more likely was nervous that she would make mistake and have her prey escape. “You should have stripped her before shackling her. Or do you want her awake when you unwrap your toy?”
“I only went through with this because Gia said to. Recent events have changed my proclivities.” Cassandra said, the fear of being caught encouraging the adrenalin that fueled her confidence with the Man-eater Antoli. She did not mention her recent bad experience with Randy and Gredlar where an innocent baby had been taken off to a life of a piece of cattle or slave. She had learnt; no matter how erotic an idea like a sex slave is; the situation in reality may be extremely disturbing.
“Well it is done. You have your beautiful ballet teacher as a pet, and I will acquire a new toy to play with as payment for services rendered.” Antoli grinned the sadist’s grin that plagued so many of her equals. She was beginning to hate it.
“Do we have any further business Mr. Burkov?” Cassandra wander him gone so she could get some rest before Kaley woke and her life became even more complicated.
“If you are happy, my meile; then we are done.” Antoli clicked his heals together and dipped his head ignoring Cassandra attitude.
“Anetta will show you out then. I’m afraid I need a moment.” Cassandra called up the stairs, though rude not to show him out, she was in fact acknowledging diligence over Kaley’s predicament. She believed seeing this would make him happier than a friendly farewell.
“Take care Cassandra Blake. And mind you’re Mistress, seldom is it seen but she has a furious temper.” Antoli turned and left the tiny silhouette of Anetta fluttering past the doorway to show him out.
Cassandra gazed down at Kaley; beautiful and peaceful, about to wake into a nightmare. She bit her bottom lip realize that her desires carried a death sentence for the adored. “Jesus Cassandra” she said to herself. “What’s going to happen next?”
Her mobile phone rang the Doogie Howser MD theme song; her personalized ringtone for Randy. “Oh fuck me!” she exclaimed and immediately regretted it. Kaley stirred on the floor, nearly bought to consciousness by her frustrated words. “What is it Randy” she whispered, answering her phone.
“Why are you whispering?” Randy said on the other end of the line.
“I’m busy. Call back tomorrow.” Cassandra said and went to hang up the phone.
“Wait. Wait. Wait.” She heard and pulled the phone back to her ear.
“Gia said you have to go to a dinner party with me. VIP’s only and very formal. She’s just flown in and wants you to be there.”
“When?”
“Tonight. Make yourself your usual stunning self and I’ll pick you up in about an hour and a half.” Randy hung up.
Cassandra felt weak. She took one last look at Kaley before walking up the stairs and locked the soundproof basement door, leaving Kaley to wake up alone. Anetta approached her from across the room; she could tell from Cassandra’s expression that she was needed. “I have to go to a party tonight. Can you help me get ready quickly?” Cassandra asked the question, but to the brainwashed Anetta it was a command to be happily obeyed.
Anetta smiled, happy to serve her Mistress. “What kind of party is it?”
“I’m not sure. Randy just said very formal.” The smile on Anetta face increased. She was susceptible to what Cassandra called the Princess factor. The closer to dressing Cassandra up like a princess she was, the more pleasure she got out of the task. “I’m going to go have a quick shower. Just get everything ready.” Cassandra turned up stairs, he steps an effort with her lack of sleep.
Chapter 7.
Cassandra had tried so hard to encourage liberties in her little Made Anetta, often in vain. A single tear rolled down her check and she picked up a tissue and blotted it before her makeup could be blemished. Anetta had selected a long slender, black evening gown with a v-cut neck line. The dress hugged her shoulders as tightly as her waist, and though of a style in fashion, what made Cassandra cry was Anetta concentrating hard on her hair. Instead of curled, flowing hair; or a bun; Anetta had braided Cassandra’s hair into a platted pigtail. Anetta had creatively made Cassandra look like a Norse Valkyrie. She could have easily been a stylist in a high price solon or studio, but instead her upbringing had confined her to have no possession, or even to desire having some. Cassandra knew accepting the servitude of Anetta was not the worst thing she had done by far, but the genuine loyalty she got from her Maid was the most reliable thing in her life.
As Anetta finished Cassandra turned around in the swivel chair and took both of Anetta hands. “It’s perfect Anetta. Gia will love your work.”
Anetta smiled, please with herself.
“I want you to take the rest of the evening off, but you have to spend your time thinking.”
Anetta looked expectantly for instructions on the mental exercise.
“If you could have anything in the world, what would you like?”
Anetta opened her mouth to start speaking.
Cassandra cut her off. “Not something to help you serve, but something for yourself, and not a book. Something you’ve always wanted.” Anetta nodded and the doorbell rang. Randy had arrived. “Go answer the door, I’ll be right down.” As Anetta scurried off to get the door Cassandra made one final check in the mirror, her marks of fatigue had be removed. She rose slowly in the dress and downstairs heard Randy talking to Anetta. Cassandra hurried, fearing his charms may cause Anetta to have a fit of embarrassment. Though come to think of it, Anetta had never seemed to have an attraction to any men, on TV or in real life. The thought was quickly put to rest and she round the corner at the base of the stairs and approached Randy, waiting at the door in a black tuxedo.
“Fuck me.” He said out of character starring at Cassandra.
The dress hugged her young body save the slit up the right hand side to allow her to walk. The low cut neckline and open back showed enough skin to clearly indicate how good she would look naked. “Calm down Randy, you’ve seen me in less.” She said putting in her diamond stud earrings on the fly.
“Yeah, but you were already unwrapped then.” He said referring to the time she had liberated him from the late Stephanie Benson’s steam room; or perhaps he was referring to the bikini she had been in when they first met. “You Ok?” he asked sensing something was up.
Cassandra knew she should be conservative with her recently founded hesitations to the Societies practices, but she knew it inevitable that he would figure it out soon anyway. “I’m tired; I’ve got an abducted woman in my basement; my best friend has servitude ingrained into her; and my torture loving Mistress is going to take one look at me and figure out I have hesitations about our lifestyle.” She left out the part about choosing Gia over her government. Randy probably knew nothing of the matter.
Randy looked surprised. Cassandra was too tired to take in how much her appearance had taken him of guard. Her beauty coupled with the knowledge he wasn’t allowed to eat her had a disconcerting effect on him which facilitate Cassandra recent attempts to get him to acclimate to the real world before he was flung further into it. “Talk to Gia.” He said unsure if it was the right thing to say. “She can help with anything.”
Cassandra ignored him, another thing Randy wasn’t used to from woman. She kissed Anetta on the cheek and wished her a pleasant evening before Randy escorted her to his Mustang. As Randy closed her passenger side door and walked to the driver’s seat she heard muffled cries from the boot and thudding noises as if someone was trying to get out. Despite being tired she realized it was probably Violet. As Randy got in he looked across and smiled, probably hoping for a reaction. Cassandra forced a friendly smile and Randy picked up on the subsurface pang of guilt Cassandra felt realizing she had once again played a part in a torturous murder.
“Don’t worry about the little things Cassy.” Randy said as he pulled away from the curb.
“Anetta was raised from a baby to be eaten one day Randy.” Cassandra said voicing the crux of the problem and the person she was most concerned with.
Randy drove silently for a moment and then spoke. “The deviants; the perverts; the crude bastards who mutilate, always feel guilt from time to time. Those who don’t; like Dalton Monroe; and Gia, they're at piece with their prays fate.” It was an honest account that the sadists grin Cassandra had come to hate came from those who’s mind were conflicted by their actions. The civilized cannibals had no remorse.
Cassandra stared out the window contemplating Randy’s honesty. Though he couldn’t possible maintain a relationship with a woman without eating her, he was very intelligent when it came to Society life. Cassandra took a deep breath and resigned herself to the fact that soon she would watch Violet be cooked alive and in such a fashion that her meat would taste better than any other type of cattle.
Randy stopped at a red-light and shifted his hand from the gearstick and placed it in her palm. “You can protect Anetta and give her anything you want Cassy. No one wants you to sell out and become a monster.”
Cassandra stopped worrying about Violet for a moment. “Randolph Kennedy are you making a move on me?” The question was rhetorical, and had Cassandra an ego she would have been proud at how she handled herself in such sociopathic stress. She opened her palm and slide it from beneath Randy’s.
Randy looked bemused, but proud he understood the playful detachment from his charms. He turned his gaze back to the road and chuckled. “God I want to eat you Cassandra Blake.”
“I guess you’ll have to settle for Violet.” Cassandra said feeling more comfortable and putting on her game face. The fact that she could be vulnerable with Randy made her feel like she wasn’t alone. The appeasement from her stress pushed her fatigue back and she could think clearer.
“Was Gredlar upset he didn’t get to eat Violet?” Cassandra asked in character.
“Yeah. He’s roasting what’s left of Dakota tonight in our oven. I guess we’re going to have to find him another pet.” Randy briefly turned from the traffic and smiled happily at Cassandra.
Cassandra smiled back. The strangely lighter conversation highlighting the intimacy from before as “To be continued.” Cassandra was going to figure out how to short circuit his fetish for unnecessary surgery if it was to go any further. The idea occurred to her that this may be what Gia wanted; Randy and her together. Two pawns on the Societies board.
Randy indicated on a straight bit of road and Cassandra guess they were driving through the wrought iron gates up the drive to the stately building that looked as old as Harvard. As the traffic gave way and Randy tuned in she could see undistinguished valets waiting to greet them at the base of the entrance stairs. At the top of the stairs before an open door stood her Mistress Gia in a red evening gown, beautiful and terrifying in her prowess. She knew red meant Dalton would be attending.
As Randy opened the door for Cassandra she slinked out and headed straight for Gia who looked at her like a lioness. “Cassandra, just when I think you can’t get anymore lovely you do this… And on such short notice.”
Cassandra smiled at the complement; genuinely put at ease her Mistress was pleased with her. Dourest and reward for correct behavior had had a strange effect on her psychology. She did in every sense love her Mistress. “I’d say you look beautiful, but you always look beautiful Mistress.
Gia gave a small smile, the best she could under the circumstances about to be revealed. As they walked in the front door the scene behind them played out as Violet elbowed one of the Valets in the face and managed a step and a half in a run to freedom before Randy quick drew a tazer and stunned her. She flopped helpless to the paved driveway, her fight over.
“The people here tonight are VIP’s, but they are not my friends. I have invited all those in the country who oppose; or at some point, have opposed my position. My guess is the NCA reached out to several people including you. Those who are planning to take my place will most likely not attend this evening, but will be at the Autumn Estate next month. Keep your wits about you, and if you get into trouble find Dalton or I; Randy or his mother.”
Despite the weight of her brief instructions before they entered the lavish hall before them Cassandra’s ears pricked at one piece of information in particular. “Randy’s mother is here?”
“Yes.” Gia said turning to Cassandra as they made their entrance. “She’s curious to meet you. I don’t think Randy’s ever spoken to her of a female friend before. I think he has a crush on you.”
The conversation was interrupted by Dalton steeping from a conversation to great Gia. Cassandra’s Mistress looked like she had come home and despite the formal occasion to two kiss passionately before Dalton stole her away to a couple in a suit and evening gown with only a brief nod of acknowledgement. He was working. Cassandra recognized the man they were addressing from the news; a Republican power broker, he forced a smile as Gia joined them. It reminded Cassandra of the many functions she had been to with her father after her mother had passed away. Not wishing to cause scandal by dating she had been dragged along as his plus one and learnt many life lessons listening to the conversations. From a brief glance at the four she could tell they were negotiating some deal.
“You’re not wearing white gloves Cassandra?” The strong female voice came from her left shoulder and she slowly to appear collected to view the individual who addressed her.
Curled dyed hair, pearls, a dress denoted wealth but not flaunting, and the remains of a once beautiful face. Cassandra could see Randy’s eyes smiling at her through gold spectacles. “Mrs. Kennedy I presume.” She stepped forward offering her devoted attention as a sign of respect. She extended her right hand a softly shook hers for slightly longer than was necessary. Cassandra felt best to show on first impression that she was indeed eager to meet with her. “I can’t tell you what a help your son has been to me since I was introduced into the Society.”
“Really. How so?” Mrs. Kennedy (Evelyn Kennedy) tested, suspicious like all people from status of an admirers intent.
“He has resources, and he’s honest to me.”
“Yes.” She said her eyes narrowing. It seemed that the word “honest” had struck a chord. “Randy says many things, but honestly from him is reserved to those special to him.”
Cassandra smiled in the appropriate manner to show he would not cause any social fowpars with her son.
“Come let’s get you a pair of gloves before one of the guest mistakes you for dinner.” Evelyn turned and Cassandra followed her to an adjoining hall where she summoned a valet to retrieve a long pair of white gloves for Cassandra to wear. As they arrived Evelyn presented them to her, “The trick is to keep them clean. Any stains are bad form, and tell your Mistress as long as you keep Randy on track she’ll have no trouble from any of the Kennedy’s.”
Cassandra dipped her head and curtseyed as Evelyn Kennedy took her leave and rejoined the party. Cassandra slowly put the gloves on. They were soft and fitted snuggly. She looked at her hand in them. They were a secret symbol of power over the life of the unremarkable outside the Society. She heard Violet cry out from a nearby double door and realized she had come to in the kitchen. Cassandra took moment to collect herself. If these people were Gia’s enemies then none of them were her friends. Composed she walked back into the hall ready to help her Mistress fight for her life.
Chapter 8.
The last time Randy had been in the kitchen of this hall a Southern bell had been coaxed out of shock to be spit roasted by a French master chef who was famous for producing exquisite forbidden cuisine. This time the assistance were not on hand to restrain the selected meal, but were busy mixing dipping sources and decanting them into small ceramic bowls to be placed in front of each of the guests. Violet had already been washed and glazed as she lay unconscious shackled to the silver tray; raw; naked save for a silver ball gag to muffle her waking screams. Randy did not deny her figure was near perfect. A tanned, firm, and athletic morsel whose beauty complimented the importance of the guests at the occasion.
“I’ve never heard of this being done before.” Randy challenged, not doubting the chefs skill but annoyed at the lack of respect he seemed to have for Randy who had bought him the main ingredient.
“First time.” Shin Ichi the Japanese Master Chef said sharpening his blade. Pausing in the act he tested the seven inch blade on a raw chicken at hand. The blade carved through the flesh and into the bone. Satisfied it was sharp at shouted in Japanese for one of his assistance who dutifully came and collected the blade for washing, to remove the impurities of the lesser meat.
“Things can go wrong the first time you do something.” Randy protested.
“It will work” roared Shin Ichi and slammed his fist into bench. The multitude of assistances seemed spurred on by their Masters anger.
“Ok. I’ll give her the clotting agent so she won’t bleed out, but if something you haven’t thought of happens, it’s on you.” Randy took out a satchel containing two needles from his jacket pocket and selected one. Gently, and with the skill of the finest nurse, he injected it into her forearm. He put the needle back in the satchel and pulled out the second one.
“What’s that?” Shin Ichi said annoyed that something was going on in his kitchen he wasn’t in control of.
“This, my Shinto friend is desoxyephedrine. If you put a clotting agent in someone and then put them through trauma, their heart might stop, or more likely; they’ll go into shock and be poor dining entertainment.” Randy placed the prick of the needle in the same place and injected it slowly. Before he had even finished Violets jerked into consciousness and screamed in horror through the silver ball gag. The Chef's assistances seemed nervous but did not falter in their tasks. Randy turned and walked out of the kitchen. Shin Ichi eyed Randy angrily as he left. Violet struggled against her restraints. A moving target would make the carving a little more difficult.
As Randy walked out of the double doors to the kitchen he saw Cassandra standing offside before an arch that led into the main hall. She was finishing putting on a pair of elbow length white gloves that both contrasted and complimented her black dress. Randy, unnoticed as she performed the task took a moment to marvel at his friend’s beauty. The moment was short because she Cassandra was always alert and sensed his viewing her. As she shifted her head to identify her observer she smiled sweetly, as if Randy wasn’t a prince by status, nor a monster that tortured and butcher girls. Just a friend she’d come to a party with.
“Your Mother approves our friendship.” Cassandra said viewing her hands in the gloves.
“She gave you those.” He said trying to be brief.
“Yes.” Cassandra stated and turned to reenter the hall.
Randy briskly walked to her side. “Dinner will be ready soon; we have to inform everyone to take their seats.
Cassandra was slightly baffled. “How’d they cook her so fast?”
“She hasn’t been cooked. We’re having sushi.”
Cassandra remembered the time at Dalton’s Manner when the House Keeper, Jasmine, had be bought live and raw on a platter and carved for the Hibachi’s. She knew this would be a similar sequence of events, and was grateful she would not be reacting to a new experience of decadence. Collected, and confident to take charge of Randy having met his mother, she said “You work the room Counter-clockwise, I’ll go clockwise.” The pair, the youngest attending, broke away in understanding and approached the small groups of the elite and offer apologies for their interruptions and advised them dinner would soon be presented. The news was good, so their baldness at approaching the conversations was reciprocated with smiles and thanks. Signs of civility and the rules of etiquette we’re mandatory even for the crowd of her Mistresses enemies.
As the guests and hosts took their seats Dalton sat at one end championing Gia who sat by his side on the right and Cassandra next to her. At the other end of the table sat Evelyn Kennedy with Randy. Though Cassandra recognized that many of the guests sitting on the wings had more power in America and the world at large, Dalton and Evelyn had the power within the Society. No sooner than the final guest had taken his place and a parade of assistance to the chef marched out with trays carrying ivory chopsticks and ceramic bowls of dipping sources. The Master Chef Shin Ichi (whom Cassandra had not met) paraded out in front of four more assistances carrying the restrained Violet on a silver tray, shackled stretched. She sounded muffled wails of fear. Had she know what came next, it would have been screams of horror. The guests at the table buzzed in excitement at her distress.
“What are these sauces?” A Texan voice sounded as Violet was placed in the centre piece. The man was holding one of the ceramic dipping bowls curious as to its function.
Cassandra looked to the chef who looked disgruntled and gambled on the response. “It Karashi, a type of mustard sauce used in Japanese cuisine, primarily rich meat. It is mixed with a mayonnaise when used as a dipping sauce. The other you will have heard of, it is Wasabi. Wasabi has a very strong flavor and it is considered an insult to the chef to add too much as it steals from the flavor of the meat. A slight smear is acceptable. You may use as much of the Karashi as you like. It complements the flavor rather than over powers it.”
Cassandra finished and bowed her head to the chef who stood posed over Violet. The guests were silent, taken aback by a junior member’s knowledge of a meal foreign to them. The Chef bowed whilst holding his knife at the accurate assessment of the dishes, and Violet went ghostly pale as she realized her fate (sadly unable to grasp the suffering bound to it). The matter was put to rest as the chef Shin Ichi bowed to the guests and made an incision across Violets closest thigh. As her gagged screams sung to the guests Gia placed her hand in the slit in Cassandra’s dress and glided it up caressing her thigh. Gia was pleased. In front of them Violet was furiously tugging on her restraints, her belly arching in agony as Shin Ichi slowly drew a paper thin cut of a rectangle around her thigh. Task complete he used the point of the blade to curl a corner. With his free hand he clasped the skin and pilled it away from her leg like he was pulling the back of her sticker. Violet howled in agony and Cassandra became aware that half the dinner would be the spectacle of Violets intense suffering. One of the guests leaned forward as poked her nipple with a chopstick. The childish act broke the tension and bought hearty chuckles of laughter from the table, expect either head. Dalton, Gia, Cassandra, and Evelyn Kennedy seemed above the immaturity.
As Shin Ichi the Master Chef pulled back Violets olive skin, a rectangle of ruby flesh laid exposed. The clotting agent meant that little to no blood wept from the wound and Violet had taken to panting quickly in an attempt to control her pain. Shin Ichi placed one hand firmly on Violets pelvis and pushed down steadying her. With skill a precision her glided the blade in his other had over the exposed flesh cutting a paper thin slice of her muscles. It curled as the blade ran along the area to be harvested. First sample taken Shin Ichi balanced it on the blade and presented it a tray held by an assistant. Prize in place he walked to Dalton who picked it up with the ivory chopsticks and placed it in his mouth. The guests were silent, waiting for his appraisal.
He hummed, vocalizing a pleasing taste. “You’d think it would be chewy being raw. But its cut so thinly sliced it just dissolves in your mouth.” As he finished talking the guests seemed eager to try it themselves. Chatter broke out.
Cassandra realizing her voice would be muffled by the chatter leant over to Gia who was still coaxing her thigh. “This is going to be a very long dinner isn’t it.” She said assessing the time it would take for the Chef to harvest enough meat for everyone to be content. At the back of her mind she knew Violet would suffer more than any other woman she had eaten. The ones who were cooked had the benefit of their nerves burning out.
“Yes Cassandra. It will take some time, but it will give us a chance to interrogate everyone here and get an idea of who else the NSA approached. It may not be someone here, but someone will be in the same circle as them.”
Cassandra leant away from Gia and looked down the table a Randy sitting patiently next to his mother. He winked at her. Cassandra gave him a smile, but was distracted by another sample being bought to Gia next to her. As she looked at the helpless Violet the prey stared at her in an intense plea for help. Cassandra knew there was nothing she could do for her so stared coldly back removing the possibility of her usually mercy being counted as a weakness. Her glance drifted to her taught stomach and it beautiful muscles contorted in agony. Cassandra’s brainwashing to the Societies practices kicked in as it had whenever she saw her favorite piece of the female form. When Shin Ichi came to cut her sample she would ask for a taste of her beautiful belly. For Cassandra to survive in her world, it was necessary.
Chapter 9. (The Other Side of Town.)
The client had turned. Well spoken and well groomed attractive men sought prostitutes not for sex (for they could get that for free) but for delinquent trysts a women met in a bar or coffee shop would not stand for. The fact that Beth was with her had offered some security to Kat, but his vigorous insistence was not sated and their pimp was not on hand as with alley jobs. The hotel meant they were vulnerable to the client’s whims and security in numbers had failed as a defense.
“You’re friend took it and she’s fine.” The man insisted. He hadn’t undressed. Since coming to the roadside motel room he’d asked the girls to strip and get on the bed. Threesomes meant only one of the girls had to work. Few men had the endurance to have sex twice; they just liked the notion of having more than one woman want them. Once on the bed they waited whilst the man looked at them. From his pocket he took he took a pill container filled with soluble capsules containing a blue powder. Beth, an addict of several light drugs had taken the pill hoping it would be a Xanax or Zoloft.
Beth had come to the city to make it as a model, coach surfed when she’d lost her place and finally started sleeping with guys for a place to stay and breakfast. By her own bad luck she’d shacked up with Gator, a pimp and dealer, who’d, got her use to recreational drug taking and partying. By the timed he’d asked her to contribute to his household income her principles had been lowered to accepting money for her body. The work had not haggard her looks and Gator charged extra for her services, which to be honest were accompanied with the lack of expertise that go along with a healthy upbringing. She was average height, English in appearance, but had a sinful body. Used to partying with clients on drugs, she’d happily taken the blue pill.
Kat was hesitant. She was attractive, with larger breast, but her body was softer than Beth’s from a hard life which included heroine. Two years on the wagon, she was no saved soul worshipping Jesus, but she had steered clear of narcotics, and now she was being firmly told to take them.
“What is it?” She asked, staling, trying to think of a way to back out of the situation.
“It doesn’t have a name yet. It’s new.” The man held the pill between his finger and thumb and extended it towards Kat.
“I don’t want to take it.” She said fearful of the potential force the man might wield is pushed to far by refusal.
The man snapped. The threw the open bottle of pills at Kat hitting her on her right breast it stung and she flinched and scurried back from the edge of the bed, away from the man. Her fear was interrupted by Beth who slothenly placed her hand on Kat’s thigh. “Just take it Kat. It’s dreamy.” The softly spoken words were accompanied by Beth curling up like a cat. The pill had obviously put her in the mood for sex and she didn’t even seem to mind the aggression of the client.
Fearing violence Kat picked up one of the spilled pills from the bed and slowly lifted it to her mouth.
“Don’t worry Red” the man said distinguishing her by hair colour, calmed by her consent to his demand. “I’ll pay you both double. You don’t even have to tell your pimp. You can pocket it.”
Kat swallowed the pill. She entered the terrible moment just after taking a drug. Something was about to happen to her and she would have no control over it.
The man sat in a chair near where he was standing away from the bed. “Let’s just let it kick in, and you two lovely young ladies tell me how it makes you feel.”
“That’s all.” Kat said, relieved at the end to the threat.
“That’s all.” The man said and pulled a note pad from his pocket.
“If you’re not going to fuck us why are we naked?” Beth slurred the words clearly inebriated; a preview of what Kat could expect in a moment.
“Because you’re both so pretty.” The man said and smiled.
Beth chuckled, and her laughter caused Kat to giggle slightly. The drug was starting to affect her too.
The man tapped his pen. “Ok, I think we can start.”
As the man was the only animated object in the room he had the two influenced girls devoted attention.
“Brunette” he said addressing Beth. “Do you feel like having sex?”
Beth giggled. “Yep.”
“And what about you Red, you would you like to have sex?” He said addressing Kat.
“I don’t… I don’t know.” Her head felt light, she was aware of the question but she was completely relaxed. She wasn’t answering as though she was a working girl. She was being honest. “Do you want me to have sex?” She asked, confusion creating dependence of the stranger.
“I do.” The man replied like a salesman’s.
“Then yes, I do want to have sex.” As she spoke Kat opened her legs. A shiny film was forming at the lips of her labia. Her body reacting to the insinuation of intercourse. The mental effects of the drug were having a physiological response. Kat lowered her hand to touch herself.
The stranger held up his hand for her to stop. Kat responded as if ordered, halting in the desire to pleasure herself. “Questions first.” He said and Kat relaxed, attentive and submissive.
“Brunette. Would you object to me tying you up?” He continued.
Beth shook her head, clearly enjoying her head swimming in the narcotic.
The man didn’t push for a verbal answer. “And you Red, could I tie you up.”
“If you want.” Kat said. “Whatever you want. “ She knew what she was saying, that she was submitting, but it offered peace to do so. To express a concern at his desire seemed a task like Sisyphus’s.
The man broke from alternating questions. “Red.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled a sterile needle (the kind used by doctors to puncture boils). “I want to pierce your nipple with this needle, do you mind?”
Kat knew the answer should be no, but the man wanted to do it, and what he wanted seemed strangely important. “No, I wouldn’t mind.” She answered politely.
The man rose and walked over to Kat. He caressed her breast and slowly ran his hand down its side. Place that hand under it for support. The other hand, gently pointing the needle, moved slowly to Kat’s nipple. She flinched as the tip indented briefly, and then punctured into her breast. Kat grit her teeth, but did not move away or try to repel the mild torture.
“Does it hurt?” The stranger asked Kat.
“Yes.” Kat bit her lower lip.
“Do you want me to stop?” He asked again, drawing the needle out and pushing it back in again in a rhythmic motion.
“No.” Kat strangely confessed. The man had already indicated he wanted to do it, why should he stop.
He pulled the needle out. “Good girl.” He said, and without even asking repeated the exercise on Beth. Coming from an easier life she experienced greater pain, but also seemed more eager to please the man. As the man, leaning over Beth, pulled the needle out, a locket of his hair fell forward out of place. Beth rose and affectionately put it back in place for him. She wanted to please him.
“Would you ladies pick up all the pills spilt on the bed and put them back into the container for me?” The girls obeyed searching carefully not to miss one and then Kat handed him the jar he had but minutes ago thrown at her in anger. “Now girls, before I leave you I have one very important question for you.” The man was standing and putting on his coat, the notebook he left behind was obviously it was just for show. He had the information he had come for, there was just one thing to be certain of. “Would either of you object to me cooking and eating you alive? Or anyone cooking and eating you for that matter?
Kat knew the question was strange but she just wanted to please the man, and everyone for that matter. “No. If that’s what you want.”
Having got the answer from the more cautious of the two he looked over at Beth with little interest.
“You can eat me now if you like.” Beth offered, then stretched out on the bed and started fingering herself.
The stranger smiled. “Good night ladies. Thank you for your co-operation.” The man walked to the door and then, as if in after thought pulled out the jar of pills he had put in his pocket. He funneled two out and left them on the night stand. “When you wake up in the morning take one pill each and go to this address. He produced a business card with an address of a meat packing plant by the dock on it. “Tell your pimp you’re visiting your parents if he calls.” He left the room.
Once outside the motel room he reached for his phone and dialed the number of a person he didn’t want to disappoint. “Good day Charles” he said into the phone. “Is Gia there?”
“No” came the voice of Charles, Gia Eros’s personal driver. “Mistress Eros is at an important function and cannot be disturbed.”
“When it is over, please tell her that the little pharmacological project she was funding is yielding positive field results. Cattle collection has just come a whole lot easier.” He hung up the phone and walked to his car. Tomorrow the two prostitutes would rise, take the pills and head to the docks were they would be sent to Spain, and if given continued doses of the blue pill, willingly be eaten.
Chapter 10.
It was twenty minutes to the third hour of the banquet and Cassandra had seen Gia’s plan unfold. By this time Violets mind had unreeled and her head raked from side to side in delirium of pain. Her thighs had been harvest to the bone and only a thin layer of flesh from her belly remained to cover her innards. Cassandra had intrigued other guest with her request for meat from her firm tenderloin, much to their victim’s detriment. The civility of the quests had been tainted with copious amounts sake served through the long meal. Real sake was drunk before samurai’s went into battle because it added fire to their temper, and in a similar manner the quests issues with Gia came to the surface. Gia acted at first every bit as drunk, flirting with veiled threats and innuendo with counters of desires being sated come Autumn. The overall effect on the vexed but lucid minds of her enemies was that Gia was reasonable and generous. Cassandra wondered how powerful her father might have become had he Gia’s forbidden resources and nerve to sit in a room full of enemies. The trick, which she; and she guessed Dalton, were privy too, is that their sake cups were being filled with water.
Finally the breakthrough came when the man to Daltons left blurted, “It would be great if you could do all that, but isn’t the NSA moving in on your little project?”
Gia’s eyes flicked over the room quickly before pondering the man’s statement. He was rich by inheritance and so not used to playing politics and the subtle jerks and break in mode of four of the guests revealed those who were privy to the threat. Cassandra knew it was no accident the weakest player sat opposite Gia, to Daltons left. Cassandra not believing she could be a convincing drunk whilst trying to read everyone in the instance their drunken poker faces was down focused solely on Evelyn Kennedy who looked seemingly startled at the news. At the very least her friend’s mother was not in on the plan to overthrow her Mistress, which would certainly see her served as dinner.
As Cassandra had gazed on one person, Gia had honed in on the four whose reaction showed knowledge of the issue. All American; all holidayed every year at the Autumn Estate despite their disapproval of Gia. Gia now knew the agent, or agents would be there come Autumn and that the individual/individuals were known by the four. She had already begun overlaying circles of confidence the four were privy to come up with a name that could pull of a coo. “My dear friend” Gia said answering the man after the instance of revelation. “The NSA has but to talk to me about any issue they have.” She turned her body to Dalton and placed her hands on his knee. “Isn’t that right Dalton.” Her sober voice and movements portrayed a grasp of the situation in contrast to the others drunkenness. Her affection to Dalton sent a clear signal she had powerful support.
Cassandra could not be certain if Randy was trying to help but he broke the effect of the scene before it went on too long. “Let’s have some more meat Shin.” He said, as if trying to lighten the mood.
Gia had what she had come for. “You would insult the chef if you gorged yourself Randy. Japanese cuisine is meant to nourish, but leave you wanting more.” She turned to Dalton and smile. “I think we are done.” She said in success.
Cassandra took the opportunity to rise. She extended her hand to Shin Ichi. A gesture that confused him at first till he realized she was asking for his blade. He surrendered it handle first, and no sooner than she’d grasped it Cassandra dashed the blade across Violets throat. Violets throbbing of pain turned to a momentary jerk, and even the clotting agent couldn’t stem the loss of blood from such a serious wound.
The guests were shocked.
Evelyn Kennedy rose to leave, unaffected by Cassandra honest act of murder. “Your girl has a conscious” she said to Gia alone though she spoke over the table. “None of us should judge it as poor form” followed, Evelyn’s words seemed to relax the guest, many of whom were still coming to the realization that they had been played when they outnumbered their adversaries so greatly. As they rose and dispersed, dinner done, Evelyn walked to Gia down the long table. “I like your Cassandra very much Gia.”
“Are you happy with Randy’s progress into the world?” Gia replied. It was obvious that neither of the two ladies were drunk, the pride in their navigation of the occasion outweighing the bruises to the other guests ego. “Have I made up for my indiscretion in the past Evelyn?” Gia asked.
“I’ve left a message with your intern”, she said referring to what she had told Cassandra earlier. “Good luck with your troubles Gia.”
Gia smiled and dipped her head. The dinner party was over. Cassandra laid the blade between Violets still breasts as if she was laying a decorated knight to rest. “If I may ask, what is the digression you two spoke of” Cassandra asked turning to her Mistress.
Gia sighed. “She was close friends to the Estate owner I usurped. She’s always been angry about the matter. Taking Randy under my wing was a peace offering to put the feud to rest.” Gia raised her hand and glided it over Cassandra’s check affectionately. “Come, we must see our guests safely off. Be sure to give Randy affection in front of Evelyn.”
“Yes Mistress.” Cassandra said having faith she had chosen the right side to be on. Gia had revealed a list of suspects in just over twenty-four hours. It seemed as though even a Government agency was no match for her.
“And prepare yourself. We will be heading to Saudi Arabia this evening to see Dalton father for support. Dalton represents the practical workings of the Society publicly, but his father is the one with the real influence”
Cassandra didn’t hide her shock. “But I have school. There’s an abducted ballet teacher in my basement.”
“All will be dealt with Cassy. Don’t keep Evelyn and Randy waiting. We will sleep and discuss the doubts you’ve been having on the flight.” Gia spoke matter of fact subservience to her decision considered mandatory.
Cassandra realized it was foolish for her to have though Gia wouldn’t pick up on her lifestyle doubts and mind set instantly. She smile and turned to her duty. She knew her role in upcoming events had loosely been laid out for her, but that she would have to perceive the path herself.
Chapter 11.
“My, you weren’t taken in lightly. She is spectacular.” Gia surveyed the still unconscious Kaley shackled to the basement floor. Gia knelt down gracefully and turned Kaley’s head to the other side admiring the symmetry which was so commonly associated with beauty. It was obviously she was refraining from touching her figure whilst dress, but Cassandra could tell her Mistress was just as attracted to her ballet teacher as she was. “We will have to make an occasion out of this meal.”
Cassandra doubts already having been vocalized by her Mistress didn’t hesitate to speak her mind. “I’ve decided not to eat her.”
“A pet then. You can tame her. It’s about time you learned how.” Gia rose. “And if you tire of her, she will make an excellent breeder. Her babies would be gorgeous when grown.” The inspection of
Cassandra’s first stalk seemed a deviation from the point of her visit to Cassandra’s home. Anetta could be heard through the open basement door collecting and packing things for the hasting departure from Massachusetts. Cassandra had told her to pack lightly; mementos and personal items only; everything they would need would be provided in plenty at the Estate or could be sent for. Gia pulled her slim phone from her purse. “Charles’s” she said, clearly speaking to her driver. “Bring the usual suitcase and apparatus for transporting a specimen inside. I have a package I want sent directly to the Estate.” She hung up without waiting for a reply.
Cassandra realizing Kaley would be transported in the same manner Anetta had been delivered to her removed the key to the shackles from her pocket and started undoing them to make his task easier.
Gia, still in her evening attire, didn’t seem concerned about keeping Dalton waiting in the car. “Tell me what triggered the doubts you’re having Cassy. When you ate Stephanie I thought you were well on your way to having a healthy appetite.”
After removing Kaley’s restraints Cassandra rose. “Randy’s room-mate kept a woman (what was left of one anyway) as a pet. She was pregnant and gave birth.”
“Did they harm the baby?” Gia said. Her tone indicated this would be a very serious offence.
Gia’s attitude to the topic reassured Cassandra. “No, it got collected for the Society, but it’s been born into slavery. One day that baby will be eaten. On top of that no matter how hard I try, I can’t set Anetta free. She’s determined to be a slave.”
“Slaves with no culture other than that of their Masters to aspire to: They either dream to be like the Masters, or dream of pleasing them. Anetta wishes to please you. Such was Anetta’s life that the liberties you have given her would influence her daughter slightly, and her granddaughter would be slightly more influenced. The weight of the environment and the natural way individuals surf Societies views mean that it is not like Django Unchained, not with anyone born into slavery anyway. No sudden outcry for freedom and power.” Gia using a pop-culture reference was unusual. Perhaps she was being efficient at expressing herself to Cassandra. “Just treat her well Cassandra. If we survive this threat and navigate away from conflict she may live a happy and contented life as your companion.”
Cassandra forced a smile at her Mistress as a sign, though not happy, her explanation was one that she would accept.
“And as for the eating……” Gia eyed Kaley’s exposed legs in the light dress she’d been ensnared in. “Can you honestly say you don’t want to eat this woman?”
Cassandra smiled again, this time genuine. “If I ate her, she’d be gone.”
Gia chuckled as Charles appeared at the head of the stairs carrying a large suitcase and oxygen tank. “You’re young Cassy. You tire of lovers; get bored with pets; but they are always tasty in the end.” She stepped aside letting Charles get to work. “If for the time being you have a conscious, then feel free to be a vegetarian of sorts, just not at public occasions” Gia walked to Cassandra and kissed her on the lips. It was a surprising act, a concrete sign of Gia’s attraction to Cassandra and perhaps an indication of how their relationship would evolve this Autumn. “I know you like to distribute impulses of pain (a polite way of saying torture).” This was true, on her first day with Gia she had discovered the thrill of hurting the pain slave Rosalita; and her experiences with Jasmine, Daltons former House Keeper had been empowering. “What you need to do is stop being selfish and interrupting others indulgences in similar acts. No more slitting throats at the dinner table.” The statement was accompanied by a firm look. “Check on Anetta, we must leave shortly.”
As Cassandra navigated the stairs out of the basement in her high heels she heard Charles address Gia. “Gentlemen called whilst you were at dinner Mistress Eros. He said your pharmacological investment had been field tested and given positive results.”
“Excellent news Charles.”
Cassandra made a habit of taking note of the hints of things she was not privy too. Later something might be said and she could put it into context and allow her pass a future test.
Chapter 12.
As Cassandra walked in her now painful high heels to the Learjet Anetta scurried alongside her, taking hasty short steps. Cassandra’s adrenaline from the tasks at dinner had worn off, and that accompanied with her footwear meant she could not help her little Maid carry their flight bags. Gia unencumbered walked ahead by Dalton’s side, marvelously showing not a single sign of fatigue despite having been awake as long as Cassandra. As they reached the boarding ramp of the Learjet a beautiful blond flight attendant stood in greeting, a smile any attendant would give on her face, but her eyes twinkled at Dalton with an expression that hinted she was familiar with him. Cassandra knew this was Dalton’s father’s plane, and she knew a sign of familiarity with Dalton’s charms was near fatal in front of Gia. Cassandra sighed. Her life at University had only been sporadically tainted by murder, but in Gia’s company she suspected it would once again become the norm, certain the implied past sexual encounter the flight attendant had had with Dalton meant she would soon served as a meal.
Before boarding Dalton leant past Gia and kissed the attendant on the cheek. “Kala how are you? You always look so spectacular despite being bound to this plane.” He must have known he’d just placed a noose around her neck.
Kala, easily six foot; Eastern European (most likely Russian heritage) was taken by the affection and Cassandra saw the same eagerness to please that she wanted to liberate from Anetta.
“I have all I need.” Dutifully Kala turned to Gia and extended the same smile, absent of sexual history. “Welcome.” She said in her station. Gia walked past without returning the smile and the pair bordered the plane Cassandra and Anetta following.
Cassandra had been on a Learjet before (though one smaller and less lavish than this), with her father whilst he campaigned. The wood and leather interior was similar, but the cabin seemed wider. This was no mere executive plane, but something that served as a means to entertain as well.
“The plane is fueled we are waiting for clearance from the tower.” Kala did not direct the passengers to any particular seat, but hierarchy meant Gia and Dalton took the spacious double seater facing each other over a retractable table. That left the forward facing columned seats for Cassandra and Anetta to sit in. Cassandra wanted to lie down on one, but Anetta, nervous to be in the company of Gia sat next to her. The pair were facing Gia who sat closer to the cabin. Cassandra did not direct Anetta to another seat happy for any sign of self consideration she showed.
Kala stood were all could see her. “With such short notice we were unable to obtain a proper meal for you. I hope that won’t be a problem?”
“We just ate Kala.” Dalton stated.
“Oh, but it’s a long flight.” Gia quickly followed.
Kala falsely secure in her safety misunderstood. “We have venison and fresh duck on hand. You will not go hungry. I’ll be back to serve drinks after take-off.” Kala dipped her head, a gesture common in the Society and took her leave to the back of the plane behind a closed door.
“I like Kala Gia.” Dalton said when she was gone. But it was a flippant statement. He knew the attention he had given her when boarding meant Gia was set in her path of removing her from the Societies service.
Gia smile. “We’ll pick you out a new attendant at the Alhambra.” Perhaps she knew Dalton merely wanted someone new to amuse him on his solo flights.
Dalton looked playfully defeated, but Gia leant forward and kissed him briefly, her affection clearly worth more than any servant’s life, Dalton moved on. “My father has lived a secular life Cassandra” he said addressing her across the centre of the jet. “There are some things you should know.” Dalton unbuttoned his tuxedo jacket to make himself comfortable for the flight. Women can conceal imperfections with clothing in his mind, so you will have to present yourself naked.” Gia rose and turned for Dalton to unzip her dress, clearly getting ready before they had even taken off. He complied and her Mistress shimmied out of her gown revealing her perfection. As Dalton continued Cassandra, not nervous about her nudity, toned and appetizing, after six months of ballet classes rose and had Anetta do the same for her. “He doesn’t approve of Gia’s position, which means he won’t approve of you; at first. You’ve managed to impress everyone with your whit and tact, your beauty just complements that. But be warned, though my father wants to make me happy he won’t hesitate to have you placed in the slaughterhouse should you displease him.”
“Is there anything in particular I can do to please him?” Cassandra asked completely naked and retaking her seat.
“Bring Anetta. Creating the Maids is a particular passion of his, he knows them all intimately (thoroughly and well studied, not sexually), he will be interested to see what you have made of her.” As Dalton finished speaking Anetta rose and pulled her summer dress over her head revealing her petite and youthful figure.
Cassandra caught Gia eyeing her Maids sex and knowing her Mistresses mind clear her throat. Gia smiled as if sprung and looked away indicating she was merely curious and had no intention of imposing her power over Cassandra to indulge in her friend/Maid. “She should keep the necklace you gave her on at all times. It will save her from the Alhambra’s servant’s autocratic nature.”
Anetta clasped the ruby pendant her necklace in her hand as if it was giving her some strength.
“And I?” Cassandra asked. “Do I need jewelry?”
It was out of concern for her Mistress (Anetta having been raised in the very place they were going) that she reached into Cassandra’s carry on bag and pulled out Cassandra’s mother’s necklace. It had been the only personal item Cassandra had liberated from her father’s place when Gia had almost a year ago slackened the leash and let Cassandra out into the world. Cassandra smiled at her little Maid and put it on.
The fasten seatbelt sign illuminated and everyone save Anetta who had never been in a plane responded. Cassandra then leant over and attached hers like you would for a child. The plane rose into the air and Cassandra realized she had abandoned her home and life of liberties to be at the hand of her Mistress and the current threat. Cassandra briefly wondered what her life would be like if almost a year ago she had not asked her father to come with him to the Autumn Estate. At the time the decadence of the indulgences of the wealthy seemed appealing, now she was indentured to the strongest woman she knew, one who ate beautiful woman as casually as eating an apple.
The jet started to move along the tarmac to the runway. Seemingly prioritized they started to accelerate almost immediately as they reached the end. Anetta reached out and clenched Cassandra’s hand as the g-force of the burst of speed sent them into the air. Cassandra loved the feeling as a child, but now it was a signal she could finally sleep. Before she did she leant over to Anetta and whispered, “If you’re nervous just pretend to fall asleep.”
Anetta nodded in understanding and reached for a pillow, clearly taking advantage of the opportunity to avoid interacting with Dalton and Gia; people who would eat her on a whim. As Cassandra lay her head against the leather rest of the cockpit and shut her eyes a great weight both lifted and fell. For the moment she could just rest and the weight of fatigue put her straight to sleep.
Cassandra was oblivious to the stopover in Spain. The suitcase containing Kaley had been removed from the cargo to be taken straight to the Estate. A middle man from the Society, most likely a lawyer had come on board to deal with flight plans and passport checks. His composure dealing with business had been tested whilst dealing with three beautiful naked women. Gia comfortable and authoritarian dealt with the urgent matters; Anetta who had been called on pretending to be asleep by Gia sat nervously; and Cassandra, oblivious to the whole matter in slumber. The man’s Two-thousand Euro suit did not conceal his erection as he left and the jet refueled to go on to Saudi Arabia and the private air strip in the heart of a desert.
Cassandra did awaken however as the plane was over the Mediterranean. A familiar voice sighed in ecstasy and she turned her head to the source. Gia lay along her seat, legs wide apart, Daltons head buried in her sex seemingly devouring her. His hands clasped Gia buttocks like talons, Gia’s flesh white where he dug in his clawing fingers as if she may try to escape the pleasure.
Gia’s eyes flashed to her awakening intern and a small grew across her face at the waking voyeurism. Gia said nothing and Cassandra was undetected by Dalton, their act of passion uninterrupted by the witness. Anetta breathed softly, genuinely asleep for the moment. Cassandra went to look away, but Gia arched her body toward her over the distance, exposing her belly; Cassandra’s favorite meat. The beautiful flesh offer aroused Cassandra and she watched, the muscles twitching as it gently rose and fell with the enthusiastic breaths of pleasure. Cassandra knew her Mistress was teasing her with her soft tissue, reminding her that she wanted to taste her. It was a game not to fall to deeply into or she would be like a sailor drawn to a sirens song; enticed then devoured.
Cassandra rose in her nudity, without disturbing Anetta and alerting Dalton and stood legs lightly apart. Now the game took a different turn. Cassandra widened her stance and arched her back so her vagina could clearly be seen in the light of the dim plane. Shaved, youthful and moist; Cassandra stroked it. Gia’s eyes flared hungrily and the pair, no longer in eye contact, looked at each other as meat to be devoured.
Gia came.
As her cry of pleasure woke Anetta and caused Dalton to rise Cassandra strode down the aisle to the back of the plane to freshen up for landing. She knew from experience that the restroom for freshening up was at the back of the jet, past the small kitchen. As she opened the door she was met with Kala hanging from the top of the cabin by her ankles like a piece of slaughter beef. The jet was too small for an oven large enough to cook a woman, but he passengers had managed. Her breasts had been removed (Dalton), her sex neatly carved from her body (Gia), and her left thigh had had raw meat sliced from it for cooking (most likely Anetta). The passengers had eaten whilst Cassandra had slumbered. Kala’s eyes were barely opened, but the gentle moans of agony indicated she was still very much alive, most likely to be kept fresh for the rest of her to be butchered upon arrival in Saudi Arabia. Cassandra’s eyes drifted to the carving tools and she brief thought of slitting the poor hostess throat to spare her further agony, but Gia had been clear; no more mercy killings. With a deep breath Cassandra navigated around the hanging piece of woman meat and head to the back of the plane.
With many hours sleep Cassandra felt ready to be tested yet again. In her history with the Society she’d proven to Gia she was worth more alive than as dinner; she’d won over Dalton; charmed a psychopathic playboy into seeking a life closer to the norm; and now she had to champion her Mistress to a man who created woman as if they were art. She used soap and damp cloth to freshen up and glanced in the mirror for a moment. Gone were the days were she had to stare to force a passable smile. She was firmly in control of her expressions now, and was learning to Master their selection to control the situation.
She walked past the meat in the kitchen and back out into the cabin. Their destination must have been close at hand from the restless mood she picked up on. “Anetta?” She asked her little Maid. “Could you please do my hair and makeup for our arrival?
Anetta hurriedly reached into a bag and immediately produced the necessary tools for the job. Cassandra sat in front of her and she went to work.
“Could you do mine next Anetta, please?” Gia asked as a courtesy. For Anetta’s compliance to the request was a given. The only drawback of Gia asking was that instead of enjoying the task, it would be done dutifully and with an eye to perfection rather than fun.
Cassandra could not question her Mistress on this however. She realized her ongoing endeavor for Anetta’s liberation had to be done on an intimate level first.
Chapter 13.
Without a flight attendant disembarking was complicated. The pilot, a gentleman servant hither to unseen, came back from the cabin and manually released the door. As he returned to the cabin he refrained from making eye contact as if he was out of place in the cabin. Cassandra saw Gia place on her heels and assumed footwear was a least permitted despite the mandatory nudity. She did the same and implied Anetta repeat her action with a mere glance of instruction. As the ramp unfolded for them to exit the jet they left the half butchered Kala on board. Dalton lead the way; Gia following in a parade of hierarchy.
At the base of the ramp stood a pale and sleek redheaded woman. Despite her nudity the air of a House Keeper was present about her. She had a mischievous, dominatrix’s smile on her face instantly read as someone who took pleasure at dishing out punishments. “Master Dalton” she said coming forward and curtseying. “You’re father is busy tending to the younglings, but felt you and Mistress Gia would be eager to inspect the next generation of Maids designed for the Autumn Estate.”
“That would be wonderful Iris” Dalton replied, naming the woman. Cassandra was not sure if the title of House Keeper was appropriate given that the runway bordered an immense compound. Its exterior looked typical of the stereotype of a mud brick Alhambra, but its interior showed neo-design buildings and flourishes of Victorian architecture. Cassandra wondered how they had kept it off Google maps.
Iris turned and started to guide them to the entrance without anymore formalities. The gate was guarded by two fit looking men armed with a type of machine gun Cassandra’s limited knowledge of weapons couldn’t identify. In her ignorance she was unaware that they were weapons of the non-lethal variety. The guard’s side arms were the ones to be used if faced with a threat greater than an escaping slave. A double solid metallic door automatically opened for them, triggered by an unseen controller hidden behind a camera and they moved without pause into the compound. The high walls and buildings shaded the grounds and the grounds keeping had no reflection to the desert sand outside. Green grass; statues and fountains; courtyards where beautiful young women performed calisthenics.
“Harvard would be jealous” Cassandra said under her breath taken aback by the opulence.
As the walk continued Gia addressed the Redheaded Keeper. “You can ask if you like Iris.” There was an issue that had not been spoken off or even hinted at, but Gia was aware of it. She liked things to be on the surface should they take a twist in the other parties mind.
“How is my former sister Lilianna?” Iris asked.
Cassandra immediately deduced that like the other Maids at the Estate were raised together, Lilianna had been raised with other House Keepers. Iris was obviously one of them.
“Perfect Iris. A small hic-up with eating a failed breeder without my permission, but she did so to raise moral.” Gia was honest.
“Lilianna was always subject to…. Hic-ups.” Iris commented, perhaps out of station. Cassandra deduced that there was a rivalry between the two Keepers. Perhaps all the Keepers had a competitive relationship.
“Oh Iris. If you were as magnificent as Lilianna, Geppetto would have sent you to usurp me instead of her. And you would have been much easier to bring under hand.”
The mischievous smile vanished from Iris’s face; vexed by Gia’s confidence.
The party rounded a corner and entered what appeared to be the frontage of a dormitory, similar to the Maids quarters at the Estate. Gia stopped and turned to Cassandra. “Cassy dear I have a task for you. Go two buildings down to the old building labeled Conservatory. That is where special servants are housed. Tell the attendant you are there on my behalf and pick out something exquisite. She’ll be a gift for a future friend of yours.”
Cassandra was confused. “Am I looking for the most beautiful or someone with a particular skill set or disposition?” If she was selecting a meal or torture victim for someone she needed to know a little about their tastes. The concept of Gia giving her a friend was not in the least strange and often proved fortuitous.
“Mature. That is to say out of adolescence. And select something you would find appealing. I want the person to learn a little about you from your selection.” Gia smiled and paused, and Cassandra knew this was the indication that they were interacting on a professional level at the moment. Dutifully Cassandra nodded and head down to the building as directed, Anetta following like a child scared of losing its mother in a crowd.
As Iris pushed open the door there was a flurry of silent activity and pink, soft skin darted about the room; off beds and away from windows, the girls (for though their bodies were mature and voluptuous) innocent in the adolescent independence stood in lines before neatly made beds. It was a scene out of a perverted boarding school porno, or perhaps the inspiration for one. The girls gracefully stood at attention.
“All are of age.” Iris said as she paraded down the column of girls at attention. Gia and Dalton remained at the head of the room, awaiting the time for inspection. “You can see Geppetto has moved away from the petite style into the more sexually developed.” Iris paused at one of the girls, her breast medium in size and perfectly curved. Iris glided her finger around the soft edge of her left bosom, daring the girl to break attention. “They are also more promiscuous amongst themselves. Seldom do they go through a night without visiting the bed of one of their sisters, if not more.” Iris had walked the length of the dormitory. “All are virgins; as always, but all are naively eager to discover Society sex.” At the mention of the word “sex” the girls wavered in excitement. They had obviously been raised to believe it was the pinnacle of life’s experiences and that they would soon be gifted it. The grin returned to Iris’s face. Were as Anetta’s generation of Maids were shy, it was obvious the next would be flirtatious and eager for physical attention; also sadly unaware of the consequences. “We have consigned the number requested plus two extras. I’m sure Lilianna will dispose of those not needed to make an example.”
“Thank you Iris.” Gia said with no trace of the tension from before. Dalton took a back seat as Gia came forward to inspect the young girls. Her methodology changed with each girl testing what subtle differences in personality she perceived; testing for limits and insecurities. As they smiled at their new Mistress she would either caress, testing for reaction; guide them to a more rigid stance (a test of reaction to instruction); or if their smiled hid their dentition even examine their mouth. She stroked each of the new Maids sex, testing for easy arousal. Once she had returned to Dalton’s side she barked “Turn left.” And watched as the future Maids, all of whom had done some marching, turned to their left. She was looking for individuals who were out of sync with the group in an attempt to deduce those who would not flow with the others at work. So far she was satisfied, there were no weak links. “Iris” she said walking towards the Keeper. “I’m going to need a full rundown of their proficiencies observed through their upbringing. Might I see the records?”
Iris turned and guided Gia and Dalton down the dormitory to an adjoining office. The girls were left standing at attention, unaware that a video camera in the office would seal the fate of any who broke ranks in their absence.
Cassandra found the building labeled “Conservatory”, but it was not what she expected. It looked like a Victorian Opium Den. It was clearly the oldest building in the compound and reminded her of Dalton’s Manor in exterior. As she entered the reception desk fronted a staircase leading upstairs like in a bordello where she guessed customers could sample their purchases. To either side were arches that lead to a large living area were female figures luxuriating in their nudity could be partially seen. The woman behind the desk looked at the unfamiliar Cassandra with a policeman’s eye. Her right hand was beneath the counter poised over an alarm. Only VIP’s entered the Conservatory.
Cassandra ignorant of the button, but sensing she was out of place she placed her hand around her Mothers necklace as a sign she was afforded some protection and most likely here in instruction. Her intuition paid off as the voluptuous nude woman behind the reception relaxed and after checking the outside camera to see if the guards were still in place smiled. “What is your business Servant?” she said, politely, not knowing who had sent her.
“I have been sent by my Mistress; Mistress Gia Eros, to select someone as a present for another party.” Cassandra did not approach the desk and Anetta hung back behind her. Anetta’s glances around the room indicated she had never entered this building in her eighteen year stay at the Alhambra.
“Of course. Please come forward.” The woman was a classic beauty, she had Anglo-Saxon heritage, but there was a hint of Italian present in her face. She was clearly extremely desirable and had grown into her body with shapely lines and soft muscle. Her breasts were magnificent and hung like two desirable moons. Clearly the woman had secured her life out of this very Conservatory by being inclined to professional efficiency and intelligence, and she had a beautiful speaking voice. Cassandra suspected she spoke a variety of languages to do her job. “What were Mistress Eros’s requirements?”
“My Mistress left it to my discretion, but she specified mature.” Cassandra said, hoping to elevate her standing in the woman’s minds.
“Of course.” The woman said as if she would check Cassandra’s story. “Intercourse; Torture; Snuff; or Food?” The woman followed directly.
“Pardon!” Cassandra said at a loss.
“Will the specimen be used for Intercourse; Torture; Snuff; or Food?” The woman replied and typed something. Strangely enough it was as if she was filling out a survey for marketing.
“Excuse me….” Cassandra paused, taking charge of the situation and waiting for the woman to give her name.
“Fleur.” The woman said. A French name for an English rose, it struck Cassandra as crass.
“Fleur, please understand my position. The person I choose, and the qualities they have will serve as my introduction to someone my Mistress is yet to divulge to me. I have no knowledge of how the slave will be used once gifted. My only concern is that my mind be made known through my selection.”
“I see.” Fleur seemed frustrated, as if this was not how things were done. “The girls here are for sale at a premium price and have been raised to be submissive lovers and victims. What do you like in your victims?”
Cassandra had not yet had a victim. Stephanie Benson had been killed for crossing her. She’d sentenced Violet to a horrible death, but Violet’s stupidity aided that. The closest thing she had to a victim was Kaley, who awaited a life of bondage at her hands. As it stood this moment she had never decided a class of prey.
Fleur dipped her head and looked at her as a subordinate.
Cassandra feeling pride, rose to the challenged of station. Intelligent in reaction, and she reacted correctly in instinct. “Authoritarian.”
Fleur’s face became perplexed.
I like Authoritarians made submissive (Like an elitist Ballet teacher to be kept as a pet). Cassandra didn’t know it, but she had followed the subtle design of Gia and taken another step to her station.
Fleurs voice was tinged unimpressed by the foreign concept. She resorted to stating the obvious. “We sell the most exquisite submissive in the Society. None are in Authority.”
Cassandra stood upright. “What about you.” She smiled and eyed the voluptuous and shapely Fleur. “I’ll take you.”
Fleurs eyes grew wide is disbelief. “You don’t even want to see the……” she didn’t finish.
“Do you answer to any servants?” Cassandra asked.
Fleur’s look of defeat exponentially increased. “N…No.”
“Then it’s you I want.” Cassandra turned and walked out of the building. “Make the arrangements for your transport to the Autumn Estate when Mistress Eros departs.” Without looking over her shoulder she walked out the door, the business taking only a few seconds. As she left one of the guards at the entrance came forward and offered directions to the dining room where she would wait for the others. Information obviously traveled efficiently in the compound.
Chapter 14
Gia seemed uncomfortable, and this unnerved Cassandra greatly. Her Mistress had ever been composed and confident in demeanor. Anetta seemed positively terrified as if even a breath out of time would result in her immediate slaughter. The disquieting effect of Geppetto’s silence affected all the visiting company at the dining table in some way. Cassandra knew she was not intimidated for she knew no history of this man who was solely responsible for the vast majority of the Societies progeny (which included Gia and Anetta). Dalton was at ease, but seeking some sign of life as the man was his father, but uncharacteristically he was not putting Gia at ease as the old man just sat silently looking at his guests in turn. Cassandra guessed his disapproval of Dalton’s love for Gia would be inflamed by Dalton championing her. Cassandra thought hard how to proceed but could not see any act she might take that would not be out of her station.
A curious thought occurred to her. If Geppetto disapproved of Gia, then perhaps speaking from above her station under Gia might intrigue him; or condemn her. “Forgive me Master Geppetto” Cassandra said raising her head and turning to him. “What is the correct manner to address you?”
Dalton frowned surprised.
Gia turned her head startled with shock. The only waver Cassandra had ever seen in her perfection.
Anetta cringed as if she would be carried off to the kitchen for her Mistress indiscretion.
The scene at the table froze again, each character holding their reaction to Cassandra’s simple question of etiquette. Geppetto sat at the far end of the table. Dalton at the opposite end, and like the banquet they had just been to in Massachusetts. Gia sat to his right, Cassandra to the right of her; trailed by the new and highly unorthodox Anetta to Cassandra’s right. The still figure of the Redheaded House Keeper Iris was the only one who moved. Naked, like all the women at the table she extended her hand to the drawing table at her side and gently picked up a slender dagger before moving towards Cassandra.
Perilous as the moment was Cassandra smiled as if innocent of any wrong doing. As The naked redhead past Geppetto so that he was in the peripheral of her vision Geppetto raised his hand. Iris stopped, seemingly indifferent to whether she would murder Cassandra or not. Cassandra wondered if the reprieve may only be to have her sent to the kitchen, but she new practically that would delay dinner. It would take them some time to cook her after all.
“Just Geppetto” the old man said, and the House keeper turned back to her station, replacing the dagger on the drawing table as she past it. “I have never had a title; they are reserved for those who work.”
“You don’t work?” Cassandra asked, clearly asking for an explanation as he was the most powerful man in the Society and created people to be what he pleased.
“It’s not work. It’s my calling. I was born to do it; it would be an effort to do something else.”
Cassandra smiled as if graced by the answer, and then resumed her position of silence, staring down at the table.
Geppetto was looking at Dalton as if he’d bought something interesting on his visit. Cassandra hoped Gia would be pleased, for the first time since she’d caught a sense of her Mistress; she was unsure how she would react once away from Geppetto’s disapproving company. But her fears were misguided. Cassandra’s baldness as Gia’s intern had lightened his condemnation of her Mistresses and the station she’d taken for that moment.
“What did you think of the Maids Gia? Did your inspection prove pleasing?” Cassandra didn’t know it but Geppetto addressing Gia had been a rare event since his son had fallen in love with her.
Gia dutifully returned to her graceful form. “They are a delightfully variation on your theme of the Maids. They will give our guests intriguing service and entice them to pay their funds for the Harvest to follow.”
Cassandra didn’t understand. The Autumn Estate had, when she was last there, a full complement of Maids. She risked speaking, unsure of how ignorance would be perceived after her baldness. “The Harvest?”
“Cassy…” Dalton was too familiar. “Cassandra” he corrected “has made incredible progress in nine months, but is still ignorant of many of the Estates functions. She has been participating in serving favors whilst gaining an education and induction.”
Gia seemingly happy for any chance to speak addressed the matter. “The current Maids will be requisitioned by guests who have been taken by their charms on the seasonal opening of the Estate and made subject to their whims. Afterwards, the New Year’s Maids come, ignorant of the event and resume the Estates duties.
Subject to guests whims meant terrible things.
Anetta was ghostly pale and the soft whimper that escaped her caused her great terror at the knowledge; dangerous for her station. She grasped the necklace Cassandra had given her, the only thing donning her petite little body, for protection.
Cassandra knew that even though the conversation was becoming equitable displaying concern for Anetta was foolish. She ignored her intellect and placed her arm on Anetta’s shoulder, the boldest form of comfort she dared offer.
“Oh Anetta.” Geppetto bellowed. It was a revelation to Cassandra that as a Master slave maker Geppetto knew everyone of his creation intimately. “You have found a niche; surely you know you will not be involved in the activities of this Harvest. Are you perhaps worried for your sister Maids?”
Anetta was terrified into silence.
“Answer succinctly Anetta.” Geppetto tone was beyond misunderstanding.
“Yes.” Anetta whimpered not raising her head.
“Father” Dalton broke in. “We’re terrifying Cassandra pet.”
“She was born for this. Her sisters will pass on, but she should be pleased she can continue to serve.” Geppetto was relaxing and the option to hold court as judge over the coming meal seemed to be fading. “Did any of the other Maids find a niche?” He said addressing Gia again.
“Giselle showed great potential in the act of cunnilingus; unfortunately there is no place for her in the Estates positions. We can’t simply have her on hand solely to please guests, she needs a larger role.
Lilianna is too efficient at running the Estate, and there are seldom events creating openings.” Gia replied dutifully, inserting a boast of how well the Estate ran.
A tear rolled down Anetta’s check. Cassandra, more confident with the conversations mood leaned into Anetta and speaking softly into her ear said, “Whisper it to me.”
Anetta turned and perched to her Mistresses ear. “Giselle is my favorite.” Cassandra was startled by the innocent plea. It was also the first time Anetta had ever, to her knowledge, expressed a desire for anything.
Cassandra turned to Gia. “Mistress, I know now is not the time, but I asked Anetta to choose something she would like as a reward for her talents.” Despite the more important people in the room being neglected from the conversation there was an intrigue as if they were Scientists watching lesser animals act out a ritual. “Might I give Giselle a niche for Anetta’s sake?”
Gia, seemingly pleased by the attention Geppetto was giving the topic. “Yes, but you’re collecting a lot of pets Cassandra. You’re going to have to start eating them at some point.” It was a crass statement and not necessarily true to Gia’s opinion of Cassandra’s nature. But the three powers in the room all started to laugh, and in the distraction of their levity Cassandra kissed Anetta on the cheek and whispered. “We can save her at least.”
Anetta calmed slightly in posture. Only the observing House Keeper seemed vexed by the plebian victory. Cassandra turned and looked her in the eye. The thought of finding out whose station, hers or Iris’s carried more weight in Geppetto’s Alhambra occurred to her. She decided not to risk it and turned back to the dinner table.
Every dining room in the Society Cassandra had been too had double doors leading from the kitchen. As Geppetto’s opened she expected to see another beautiful woman on a silver tray, whimpering or pleading through a gag. Her surprise at the procession of waitresses carrying platters of vegetables and gravy’s seemed in direct contrast to the usual went undetected. Cassandra’s relief was short lived. The final server carried a long platter with a glazed ham, the origin of the meat unmistakably a woman’s shapely leg. Its owner must have had a beautiful body. It seemed the Alhambra had the resources of a preserving meats and making delicacies. Her vegetarian lifestyle would have to wait.
Conversations where Cassandra had sat at her father’s side as he campaigned for office quickly taught her that the powerful, like lawyers, used words in abundance. A question can never simply be answered by yes; no. At any cost someone may never say I don’t know. As the long pig ham was carved and the guests indicated to the servers their selection of the other dishes Cassandra saw Geppetto break from Authority. He addressed Anetta, like a grandfather would a grandchild, accepting simple answers but probing; genuinely curious of her adventures having been exposed somewhat to the real world and the liberties he’d discovered she’d been gifted. Anetta, afraid of the authority of Geppetto seemed to love the father figure. He had after all guided the direction of her life like a parent. Cassandra realized that through Anetta’s complete honesty to the man she was also becoming known to him. Dalton and Gia relaxed, the intimacy present in their talks showing as if they were allowing Geppetto to grow accustomed to it again after his initial disapproval. Cassandra realized that Geppetto didn’t object to them having their relationship, but perhaps he expected something to come of it.
Cassandra abandoned monitoring Anetta’s accounts of books she’d read and cartoons which amused Geppetto and began thinking. “Eureka”, she whispered. When the stories were put aside, when the decadence and politics were not being played the relationships were obvious. Geppetto, Father and Master. Dalton; son and heir to the Alhambra and all its responsibilities of raising the generations of servants. Gia; lover and Mistress who has a gift for guiding people along her designs.
Geppetto is unhappy because Gia will not give Dalton a child, the next heir to the Societies inner workings. Not only is she holding back, but she eliminates any other woman intimate with him.
Cassandra enlightened by her revelation surveyed the guests, ignoring the ongoing scrutiny of Iris, dagger still by her side. Gia had never spoken of a desire to have children. Neither had Dalton. Cassandra finally had an observation worthy of discussing with the Master Geppetto should she ever receive an audience. The party ate, and the food was delicious.
“There is a matter I would like to discuss with you.” Gia said as the China plates were being cleared after the meal.
Geppetto smiled, obviously expecting the matter to arise. “I know you do, but I have a different idea.”
Gia’s acclimation into comfort over the meal faltered, and again Cassandra sensed she was nervous. “Please Geppetto”, Gia said as if she was asking a father or priest for forgiveness.
“I will discuss the matter with your young intern. If you are, as your confidence suggests, proud of her she will champion your question.” Geppetto rose and head for the door behind him, not fare welling his son.
Cassandra felt the nerves of a test coming on. She turned and looked to Gia for instruction. Anetta mirroring her nerves at her Mistresses task.
Gia, let down, turned in haste. The window for Cassandra to follow Geppetto out of the room was short. “The names of those who sought his blessing in the matter.” She instructed and then tapped her on the shoulder to follow the man out of the room. Cassandra rose in haste. As she followed Geppetto out of the room Gia called, “We will mind Anetta for you.” A reassurance in thanks.
Chapter 15.
Geppetto wanted to walk. Achems razor suggested that was why Cassandra had followed him through his living quarters followed by Iris. Not being privy to the facts this man held it was possible there was something he wished her to see. They came to a door where the edge of the building should have been. Instead twin sliding doors like those in a hospital were pushed open and Cassandra walked into a laboratory with cabinets of drugs; operating instruments and tables covered in bleached white sheets. The lab was bordered with a window and Geppetto looked out it to a courtyard where several young and nude women stood around two girls, they appeared to be sparing jujitsu.
“Do you know all the House Keepers are trained to fight with great proficiency?” He said, either as preface or idle boast.
“No I did not know that Geppetto.” Cassandra said politely.
“They have been trained to overcome all the Societies servants in case of emergency. Even the strongest guardsman is no match for a Keeper. Iris here could kill you with ease. But Lilianna was better.” As he spoke Cassandra could feel the jealousy coming of Iris in heat. “I selected Lilianna for the Autumn Estate to usurp your Mistress, as punishment for Gia usurping its rightful Manager. She did not.” Geppetto didn’t seem frustrated. “Lilianna is getting older. In a year or two she will be replaced with a younger House Keeper, and my hope for her ascension will be gone.”
In poker, if you have a pair in the hand you go in hard early to discourage those with weaker hands. It does not mean a pair is a good hand, it just means you prevent others from developing better hands. “Geppetto, has anyone sought your blessing in overthrowing Gia.” A game of politics with Geppetto, if won, would see her served as dinner. Directness was required.
Geppetto ignored her. “I’ve heard stories about you from Dalton. He came here because you destroyed his House Keeper and he needed a replacement.” He paused. “Jasmine was bald; overconfident; and had a low threshold for pain. Did you know if it had accrued to her to break ranks she could have killed you as easily as Iris could?” Geppetto was trying to intimidate Cassandra. “How did Jasmine die Cassandra?”
“Badly.” Cassandra went all in. “If Gia were to have Daltons child would your opinion of her change?”
The Masters eyes flashed then narrowed. Cassandra had played the Red Heering early. She knew Geppetto would speak rhetoric and then make a proclamation avoiding the subject is given the chance. She had to have something to offer to at least create a negotiation “She spoke of this?” He said, as if perhaps Cassandra was blessed with knowledge above his expectations.
Cassandra sold herself. “I think Master Geppetto”, she added the Master to show acquiescence. “Gia removes all of Dalton’s companions and I don’t think you could find a finer woman than Gia. Rather than remove her, perhaps encourage her to have his child.”
Geppetto’s mood indicated he had already thought of this and countered his case, more than Cassandra would have gotten had she not made herself a player in the game. “See raises her profile in the outside world. She is photographed in Magazines; her name in print. You can Google her. The plebeians we feed off ask themselves, who is Gia Eros. They should not even know of her existence” He slammed his fist on one of the operating tables. “This is not how we operate.” It was becoming obvious that Gia’s magnificence had angered Geppetto. She had become more than he could handle.
“If you will not tell me who has sought your blessing in her downfall, then I shall take my leave.” Cassandra, not willing to risk any further anger, and more aware than ever before that it was only Dalton who prevented Geppetto from destroying Gia, bowed her head and moved to take her leave.
Iris blocked her path.
“Lay on the table Cassandra.” Geppetto instructed, seemingly calm now. Cassandra was fearful. She eyed Iris, and from the look in the Redheads eye realized any attempt to push past her would be a mistake. Under dourest Cassandra turned and slowly sat on the operating table, then lay helpless in front of Geppetto. “You are loyal to your Mistress. This is not a bad thing. I will ask you a question.” He paused. Cassandra knew control would always have returned to Geppetto and she had made her best play. “You impress me. Will you usurp your Mistress?”
It was not only the vulnerability of Cassandra physical position that caused the apprehension growing inside her; it was the knowledge she would displease him. “I can’t.”
“She has tamed you then. But I like you. As you said, you do think.” He nodded to Iris who understood like an appendage given impulse. “I give you a choice. Leave this room as you came in with no information; or leave with a hint of the most dangerous threat, and an itch.”
Geppetto’s choice of the word “itch” troubled Cassandra. Things Cassandra couldn’t deduce always troubled her, and they were few.
“Come dear it’s simple. Gia already knows who will try. After that dinner party back in America many were scared of even considering it. But there is someone who will try. Let me modify you, and you’ll get a hint. Just a hint, if Gia is as clever as you she will figure it out.” Geppetto stood above Cassandra comfortable in his position as Master.
“You already know she won’t figure it out or you wouldn’t tell me.” Cassandra replied.
“Maybe you could figure it out for her. Some chance is better than no chance.” Geppetto already knew Cassandra was submissive to Gia. If her relationship with her Mistress had been more mature she might have tried for independence, but she knew her dismissal of the deal would be reported to Gia and their bond would be fractured.
“I’ll take that hint.” Cassandra said trying to be bald, but her nervousness showed.
Iris didn’t hesitate to strap Cassandra’s wrists above her head. There were straps to fasten her ankles as well, but Iris just forcefully pulled her legs open and held them with the intent to enjoy Cassandra’s fight.
Geppetto reached for a pair of tweezers and then walked to a nearby cabinet. He removed a jar and opened it. Something was moving in the jar and he was trying to catch it. As Cassandra became more unnerved he exhaled in success, pulling what appeared to be a red wasp from the container. With it held firmly between the prongs of the tweezers he walked back towards Cassandra. “This my dear is the Insatiabilis Wasp. It’s has no venom, but injects hormones into female insects causing them to lay their eggs prematurely. The Insatiabilis Wasp then feeds on the eggs. It is a remarkable insect and further more has a most unique effect on humans as you will soon see.” Geppetto positioned the little red wasp so its stinger could be directed, and as he lent in between Cassandra’s legs she realized where it was being directed. “Do not take this personally Cassandra. You are remarkable as my son reported.” The wasp was so close Cassandra could feel the faint flow of air caused by the wasp rapidly flapping its wings. “Soon you will realize, this is a gift for your Station.”
Iris smiled manically and Cassandra tried to close her legs. Iris preventing any escape or change of mind.
“The hint you may give your Mistress is: That it is the last person she will expect.” Money paid, Geppetto directed the wasp to sting Cassandra’s exposed clitoris. It was a surgical act. Cassandra felt the prick, a spread of heat as if burnt coming from the tiny stinger. She inhaled in discomfort thinking this was the worst of it. As the chemistry of the wasp’s weapon took effect on the sacred bundle of nerves she immediately started screaming.
Chapter 16 (The Docks).
“You sure you ladies want to be here?” The cabby asked. He didn’t really care. He asked out of the habit people have of fulfilling the need to display courtesy. This is particularly the case when two attractive women, obviously drugged asked to be delivered to the meat packing district of the docks. In reality Chad, the taxi driver, knew setting these girls straight would be a hassle that would see his daily earnings plummet. Chad was an asshole, and they were whores anyway. As a reply didn’t come immediately he shook his head and drove off abandoning the two.
The women were confused, a side effect of being directed by the simplest suggestion. They had woken in a hotel room in a haze, certain only that they should each take the blue pills left for them and head to the address on the card. They hadn’t showered; they wore their working girls clothes and they stood in front of the gate wondering what was supposed to happen. Had they been in their right mind they would have realized it was a heavily fortified meat packing plant, and that the elderly black security guard walking towards them was carrying a pistol with an extend clip. They probably wouldn’t have been aware it was a Glock G38, or that this pistol was well out of the price range of a simple security guard.
“Help you lovely ladies.” He said politely. He had assessed there state of mind from the girls slow reaction to his approach. They seemed complacent to wait, but in need of his direction.
Beth just smiled and ran her hand over her neck displaying a sexual vulnerability.
Kat had only the simplest presence of mind and lifted the business card that had been left at the Hotel. She presented it to the Security guard. He inspected it and his mood shifted. The limp in his step, his slumped back from age, the polite disposition faded in an instance. The man stood proud and erect, clearly formidable having dropped his act. He’d been expecting the girls. He reached to his radio. “It’s them. You better come out and meet them; I don’t think they’re capable of following complicated directions.” He moved his finger from the trigger of the radio. As if he may be being watched he slumped forward again; his face resumed the non-chalant expression and he started his fake limp walk to the gate. “Follow me girls.” And of course, the girls did.
“It is a fact you can Google that 2,300 people go missing in America every day.” The Stranger from the night before came out of an office to meet the girls as they passed the gates. Seeing him bought some comfort to Beth and Kat, for they knew this man would not be like Chad the cabby asking who they were; where they were from; what teams they supported. This man asked simple questions and didn’t call them stupid when they had trouble answering. This stranger was nice. “And you two lovely ladies are about to become two of them.” The man was talking with absolute confidence that the girls couldn’t grasp the ominous nature of his indication. He started to walk towards a different building from the one they came out of. “On average about six to twenty girls are bought here every day from all across the country. And I’m not talking your run of the mill girls. I’m talking about the girls, who when you see their photo one the news, you think; Damn, I wish I was the guy who abducted her.”
Beth and Kat were at a loss. There was so much noise coming from all around them the Strangers confident tirade made no sense. They clung to each other’s inability to make a decision and the knowledge that this man would tell them what to do. Their faculties had completely failed them.
“Look here.” The Stranger said pointing through the open door of a shipping container they happened by on route. Three naked girls all just of age hung from meat hooks whimpering and shivering in distress. A man in waterproof overalls was hosing them down, washing away the filth of their captivity. “For some reason, even though we can get girls from all around the world, the people we work for love….. And I mean LOVE American girls.” His narrated tour had taken them to a small portable. He opened the door and let them walk through following closely behind. “And that’s where you girls come in. You are our Guiney pigs. Those blue pills you took, they’re going to make all this a whole lot easier.” The portable was a self contained kitchen filled with oversized appliances. “If you girls work out things will change dramatically. I’m talking; see a pretty girl in a bar, slip her a blue pill; she’ll follow you right to a kitchen. No more security and cages. No damaging the product, just fresh, willing meat.” Whether or not I become a very wealthy man depends on you lovely ladies answer to the next question.” The man to a graceful stance. “Would either of you mind if I cooked and ate you?”
Beth was at ease. She’d already answered this question. The drug did not diminish memory just the will to direct…… will. “Oh, you can eat me if you like. I mean, you want to, don’t you?”
“I do Beth. Thank you.” The Stranger turned to Kat.
“And what about you Red. Would you mind if I cooked and ate you?”
Kat, less taken by the drug puzzled. “Would it hurt?” She asked hopefully not upsetting the man she was dependant on for direction.
“It would hurt. But I REALLY want to do it.” The man’s expressions would be viewed as over the top, but the girls were not capable of distinguishing that. He was just exaggerating to make his point clear.
“Well, if you really want I suppose you can.” Kat looked at the clean laminated floor as if unsure, but she hadn’t resisted.
“Thank you ladies. You’ve been great.” He became serious again. “Red: he said talking to Kat, “you seem more hesitant so I’m actually going to cook you to see how much resistance you’ll give. “Brunette, he said smiling at Beth. “You’re a submissive little angel. We’re going to keep you on a regular dose for a while just to make sure there are no long term side effects.” The man unbuttoned his shirt and the girls stood puzzled. Realizing he hadn’t made himself clear he turned to Kat. “Strip Red, we’ve got to get you in the oven.” After removing his jacket he put on a white apron and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Kat was hesitantly disrobing. Her street walkers clothing didn’t take much to get out of but the portable was chilly. Goose bumps appeared over her flesh. “Don’t worry Red; you’ll be plenty warm soon. Just stand there and relax for the time being.” Kat complied. She felt no modesty, but place one arm across her breast and the other over her privates to hold off the chill. Massachusetts is cold this time of year.
The man walked to a giant wall oven and opened it, pulling out a tray. The struts that supported the tray were solid and looked like they could carry a lot of weight. With effort he lifted the tray onto the table in the middle of the room. “Hey Brunette” he said to Beth, learning her name clearly not interesting him. “Could you go into that cupboard over there and get me whatever oil and spices take your fancy.”
Beth was confused. “I don’t…. What takes my fancy?”
The man turned a smiled at her. “Your just perfect honey. Don’t worry I’ll do it. Why don’t you just take of your clothes and be more comfortable.”
“It’s cold.” Beth said, showing only the slightest protest.
“It’s what I want.”
“Oh, Okay.” Beth slipped out of her shows, her short skirt and halter top following.
The man went to the cupboard and picked a bottle of olive oil; rosemary; and thyme. “Come on Red. On the tray.”
Kat stuttered at the sudden command after standing idle for some time, but hastily climbed up onto the table. The stranger could tell she was uncertain of how to lie on the tray. Initially she curled up in the fettle position.
“Red”. He said playfully. “I’ve got to oil you. Lay on your belly.”
Kat complied and the stranger drizzled the oil from the bottle over Kats body. He turned to Beth who seemed eager for another command; some instruction on what to do. Already it was becoming obvious to the man that left to their on devices on the drug the girls would just stand idle.
“Come here and rub the oil in for me Brunette. I don’t want to get my hands sticky.”
Beth, now nude, stepped forward and started caressing Kat’s body, spreading the oil thinly over every inch of exposed skin. She ran her hands over her shoulders; down the length of her arms and legs; even into the creases of her buttocks.
The stranger sprinkled the herbs over Kats oiled body. “Ok Red, roll over.”
Kat complied and the process continued. Her body glistening Beth finally moved to Kats sex to lubricate it with the oiled.
“Wait a minute Brunette. We’re going to cook poor Red her. Why don’t you give her a little thank you present?” The stranger moved up behind Beth and whispered in her ear. “Make her come.” He stepped back, and obediently Beth began caressing Kat’s privates. Kat, inhibitions nonexistent on the drug, arched her body up into Beth’s hands aiding the act.
The Stranger watched the scene for some time. Kat’s breathed hastened more and when he read she was ready to come he lent over her ear and said. “Don’t come.”
Kat reacted by moving her sex away from Beth.
“No don’t fight her.” The man clarified. “Just don’t come.” Kat understood the instruction. The battle now came from within her own body. She writhed, her face contorted, she was trying to repel the coming climax. She started to moan and exhale in vexation as she struggled to obey. After a two minute battle holding back the inevitable the Stranger said. “Come.”
Kat’s body relaxed into the orgasm. Catching her breath and luxuriating in the pleasure of the narcotic climax.
“Good girls.” The Stranger was all business again. “Now Beth, help me get Kat here into the oven.”
Chapter 17.
Cassandra awoke craving something. It could not be defined as an irritation that woke her because it was not a bad feeling; not a first anyway. There was the urge to immediately sate the impulse and she reached to rub her sex. Her pussy was moist and her labia’s and clitoris itched. She needed to touch herself. As she went to fulfill the act, not yet aware of where she was she found her hands restrained. They had been shackled behind her back. She moaned in mild distress at not being able the quench the impulse.
A trusted voice soothed her. “Relax Cassy.” Gia, who had her sitting on her lap, gently reached around her waking interns thighs and gently caressed her.
Cassandra sighed in relief at the touch. It satisfied but she urged for more.
“Just a little Cassy. Others stung by the wasp have mutilated themselves trying to satisfy the sting.” Gia spoke calmly as if trying to settle a restless horse.
Cassandra arched her pelvis up into Gia’s stroking hand, trying to accelerate the motion. Temporarily, but only partially satisfied she now took in her environment. They were back on the plane. She sat on Gia’s, now clothed, lap. Her Mistress had one hand satisfying her new urge, the other around her beat holding her in affection. Anetta sat off to the side facing her, a look of concern on her face; and a row back Fleur, disgruntled sat staring out the window.
“Where’s Dalton.” Cassandra asked.
“Ever observant Cassy.” Gia complemented and changed the rhythm of her caress. “Dalton’s father saw fit to give him duties at the Alhambra. Convenient timing for Geppetto. We will have to make do without him.” Gia hugging arm grew firmer in a display of solidarity. It was a gesture Gia gave to Cassandra out of genuine care. Cassandra’s immediate concern was not with her current state of hyper arousal, but with her Mistress’s safety. Gia attend to Cassandra’s plight before seeking the information Geppetto had given her in exchange for her loyalty. “The wasp that stung you will change you. Right now you are at its mercy, but it will subside; some. Your libido will be increase; your clitoris will swell and become larger and you will have to battle the will to become a slave to desire.” Gia kissed Cassandra on her neck, drenched with sweet from the lust she was enduring. “I think he saw your wit as a threat, and sought to cripple you some; to make you manageable.” Manageable being handicapped.
Cassandra, hungry for touch as she was understood. In hindsight she should have realized anything she got from Geppetto would mean losing. “How long till I can…..” Cassandra didn’t know how to finish. In her current state she realize if her hand were free she would do little more than touch herself till her fingers and privates bleed; and then some. Cassandra wanted to do things, and was expected to do things for her Mistress.
“Eight hours to the Estate, then I’ll have the nurse put you under. You should awake to an ease to the initial reaction, but to the permanent effects then.” Gia beaconed to Fleur who sat down the planes cabin. She came obediently. With some maneuvering Gia shuffled Cassandra of her lap and onto the seat next to her. As Fleur approached Gia ordered. “Tongue’s are less abrasive than fingers. Cunninglingus for eight hours. I don’t care if you get tired, you will continue until the plane lands.”
Fleur, outside her usual duties, looked displeased, but as Gia’s property obeyed and went down of Cassandra whose sighs of gratification filled the cabin.
“Just last eight hours Cassy.”
Cassandra grabbed Fleurs head and buried it into her sex. It was more effective than Gia’s touch. With some presence of mind she tried hard to concentrate. “Geppetto said” she paused to sigh in pleasure, battling the impulse to indulge and the need to convey the information. “He said everyone you suspect is not the threat.”
Gia made herself comfortable to the side of the medical sex act. “Then who Cassy.”
Cassandra fought back a moan. “The last person you’d expect. He said you’ll never see them coming.”
Chapter 18 (Inside the oven).
For a moment Kat had direction. The Stranger had told her lay still as he pushed the tray into the long oven, but once the tray was in and the door gently closed she was at a loss. The drug didn’t affect her memory and she knew she was going to be cooked. It was okay, it was what he wanted; she just didn’t know what to expect. What is ones conduct when being cooked?
There was an electric hum in the darkness. Kat couldn’t tell where it was coming from but it sounded like it was from above and below her. A dim red light appeared in a strange pattern and comforting warmth came with it. She was relieved; she’d been cold since she’d stripped. The red luminescence grew brighter and the heat increased. The red light was forming a pattern and it made perfect sense. It was the element of the oven above her heating up. Kat was bathed in the warm and soothing light now, it made her feel happy. Like she had been told she lay still and waited to cook. She started humming a Lady GaGa song to herself content with the warm embrace.
“Hey Brunette.” The Stranger called to Beth who was standing watching the oven light up. “Do you know what the definition of stupid is?”
Beth was in no state of mind to answer, but she did know what stupid was.
The Stranger wanted to talk. Beth didn’t have the faculties to detect it but he was an arrogant asshole who loved to have power over other people and enjoyed putting them through discomfort. More than a sadist he was a Narcissistic Sociopath who only cared about getting off; not sexually, but from control. He was the perfect man to lead Gia’s project. “Stupid is a person lacking intelligence or common sense.” He reached out and crabbed her arm and pulled her away from the oven. Inside Kat could be heard, innocently humming a pop song, calm despite being in an oven set to 320 degrees Fahrenheit. “I don’t think you’re stupid because that little pill you’re going to be taking every day will make you do whatever anybody wants you do to. I think you’re stupid because you worked as a whore and when a client gave you a pill, and you didn’t even know what it was, you took it.” The man brought Beth’s body right up next to him. He ran his hands over her hips, enjoying her youthful firmness. “Do those sound like the actions of someone with intelligence or common sense?”
Beth had been under the effects of the drug for so long anything other than an instruction almost distressed her. “I don’t know. Won’t you tell me?”
The man kissed Beth, not aggressively, just on the lips testing to see if he was welcome despite knowing he was. “I think you are Beth, but it’s not a bad thing. People just like you are going to make the people I work for very happy.” He turned Beth around so she was facing the oven. “Take Kat in there. At the moment that oven is at about seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit. The oven is about two cubic meters in size; that’s 21.5 cubic feet. To raise the temperature of air in the oven one degree we need to apply 1.53 BTU’s of energy.” From his position behind Beth he started fondling her breasts. “Now I know you don’t know what a BTU is so I’m just going to say; if we put your friend Red in there with all that energy required to reach 320 degrees Fahrenheit embracing her body all at once. Poof. Every nerve in her body would explode, instantly. Her lungs would seer; her brain would melt as all her fat dissolved into a lipid soup.” He grabbed Beth by the throat choking her slightly. Beth started to object but he whispered “Stay still.” Enjoying having the power over her, controlling when she breathed. “Now on the other hand, if we heat her up slowly, her nerves survive long enough so one by one they flare and she suffers; crying out to escape; she grows week and passes out from dehydration after a little terror and screaming, which means her lungs don’t take in as much hot air and don’t see or fill with liquid because of the osmotic difference; and if we time it just right, when she’s nice a cooked; she’ll still be alive when we eat her.” He released his hand from around Beth’s throat. “Now that you know all this, I’m going to ask you again. Would you mind if I cooked and ate you?”
Beth didn’t know what she wanted, the drug made it so. “I don’t know” she said confused. “I mean if you want to, I suppose you can.”
The Stranger marveled at the perfection of his work. His little blue pill left the user open to suggestion even under stress.
It had become uncomfortable in the oven. The tray was getting hot and Kat was sticky from the oil. She didn’t have much room but she fidgeted trying to get some relief. Her head felt heavy like she was going to pass out, but the heat from above and below meant she could just relax and rest her head. All she knew is that she had to be cooked; she just wished it wasn’t so darn uncomfortable. She moaned for the first time. Verbal exclamation bringing some relief she did it again, but it was a losing battle everything she tried; tensing her muscles; grinding her teeth; crying out. Everything that help her deal with what was now becoming intense heat was defeated by the ever increasing temperature. She stirred, too violently and her nipple came in contact with the red hot element. She screamed and something broke in her head. She lost her senses and the screaming continued. Her mind started to tell her to get out of the oven, but it was over ridden by the clear instructions she had been given by the Stranger that he wanted to cook her. “In all fairness the man had said it would hurt.” She said in a mournful cry to an audience of just herself. The screaming took over again.
Outside the oven the Stranger pulled his pants off as Kat started screaming. He pushed her against the table in the middle of the room. “Okay my stupid little Brunette. She’ll be screaming for about twenty minutes before she finally passes out. In that time, I want you to give me your best, and I mean your absolute best, blow job.”
Beth didn’t even think twice. She got on her knees and started sucking, not oblivious to the screaming. The client crabbed her hair and pulled it. It was obvious he wanted the suction in sync with the peaks of Kat’s screams. Beth paid it no mind; she was incapable of discerning the behavior as sociopathic.
Chapter 19.
The rule about not using mobile phones on planes did not apply to Gia Eros. As her phone rang she pulled it out. She gave a concerned look to Cassandra who lay beside her exhausted and drenched in sweet but still very much in need of the explicate kiss Fleur had been giving her for the last two hours. Gia had lost count of the number of orgasms her poor intern had endured. The strain on her muscles had made them painful events now and Cassandra had tears rolling down her face as she endured the haze of lust.
“Captain.” She said moving away from her seat to get distance from the sounds of the sex act.
“Mistress Eros. I’ve picked up the shipment from the docks. Your cargo will be at the Estate slaughter House within the week save any delays.”
“Excellent.” Gia said all business. “How many in total?”
“Two hundred and forty six souls. We’ll keep them as perfect as their behavior allows.” The Captain was always honest. Sometimes the girls caused trouble on the freighter as they were transported to the Estate for the guest’s consumption. Examples had to be made and punishments issued.
“I understand. Any other news.”
“Yes.” But the Captain paused as if he didn’t know how to follow. “That man of yours at the dock, he delivered a strange scene.”
“Strange how?” Gia asked. She had some idea to the business but the man’s method of conducting it might prove a problem.
“He had a meal all laid out for me.” The Captain had said nothing out of the usual yet. He was often fed girl meat either port of his transit as he was forbidden from indulging on his voyage. “He woke her up as she lay to be eaten and prompted me to ask if I could eat her.” The Captains voice was concerned now. “The girl (known by both parties to have been cooked) told me I could…. She wanted me to eat her.”
Gia immediately understood that this was the pharmaceutical trial she had invested in. “I am aware of the reasons behind this scene Captain. Please do not speak of this to anyone.”
“Of course Mistress Eros.” The Captain state, composed and returning to duty. The Captain was in his sixties, and had been a Society servant his entire life. His long life span testimony to his trustworthiness.
“Did he give you any other packages other than the shipment Captain?” Gia asked.
“Yes. Some sealed cases of blue pills and a young woman. He said I am to give her one pill every morning and that she is not to be harmed. He said she is your assurance there are no side effects.
“Perfect Captain. Safe voyage. I’ll see you in a few days.” Gia hung up the phone. Her chemist friend, brilliant as he was, was advertising Gia’s surprise product. She didn’t even need to think on the matter. Once she had the product and the method of manufacture she would dispose of him.
The White Glove Society 8: Autumn.
By ninja5
Part 1. Homecoming
Chapter 1. The introduction.
Cassandra didn’t remember the monotonous awakenings from before she met Gia. It used to be she would awake to an alarm clock; hit the snooze button and then finally drag herself out of bed and shower. Once she had been claimed by Gia she awoke to a days that involved erotic puzzles; acts of torture or murder; or the decadence of adolescent boy’s fantasies.
This morning Cassandra awoke…. Horny; and her hands were tied with velvet ropes to the bed posts. She pondered if she should be surprised; she was past the point of being concerned about such things. It was obviously a precaution, no doubt, to prevent her from rubbing her begging cliterous to a blister. She sighed and the daze of sleep cleared. She was not surprised that she was not alone. Usually she awoke to Anetta’s smiling face with a tray of breakfast dutifully and lovingly made to please her. The Maid who stood before carried a tray but was not Anetta. Cassandra saw a solution to her problem of wanting to touch herself.
“You’re going to have to untie me if I’m going to be able to eat breakfast.” Cassandra said.
The Maid, similar in build to Anetta moved forward, but was halted in her tracks.
“Don’t untie her.” Came a voice Cassandra had not heard before.
Cassandra immediately deduced she had authority over the Maid, but she did not know the woman in the white dress who stood by her window watching over her. Cassandra looked her over. She was tall and slender; she had a beautiful figure matched by her face half covered by wavy dirty blond hair. As she studied her there was a twitched on her left cheek; a nervous tick. “I’m sorry, I don’t know you, but I really would like to be untied if you don’t mind.” Cassandra was polite through a distinct trust that she would come to no harm at Gia’s Estate.
The Maid looked troubled as if she didn’t know whose instructions to follow.
“Cassandra.” The woman in the white dress said, clearly knowing her. “This is Giselle, the Maid you requested from Gia. She will deal with your…… itch, but only after you’ve eaten breakfast.”
Cassandra usually able to deal with things with a little more grace raised her voice. “How am I going to eat breakfast with my hands tied? I honestly think you should just untie me.”
“And then you’ll what; play with yourself in front of us.” The woman said making her case. The woman in the White dress stopped leaning against wall and walked towards Cassandra as she lay helpless on the bed. “Very well. A compromise.” She looked to the tiny Maid. “Giselle; under the covers.”
The little Maid promptly put the tray of food on the night stand and lifted the side cover of Cassandra’s bed, her petite frame crawling under. Moments later Cassandra sighed in relief and relaxed back into bed. Despite having slept for almost eighteen hours she was still exhausted. She closed her eyes to relax, as the little Maid went to the work she was famous for saw Cassandra’s relaxation suddenly shifted. Her eyes which briefly closed in rest suddenly rolled back in her head. Giselle was masterful at her art. Cassandra began breathing heavy.
“I had hoped to introduce myself whilst you ate, but I suppose this will have to do.” The Woman cleared a lock of hair from the front of Cassandra’s face to get a better look at her up close. It was an act of intimacy, though the two were not familiar. “My name is Kimberly. I’m sought of your sister in a sense.”
“What?!” Cassandra managed to say through jolts of pleasure. Giselle was very good.
“I was… adopted by Gia like you, a few years ago, and went through a similar process you’re going through. Though I was never stung by the Insatiabilis wasp.” Kimberly had obviously been informed on Cassandra’s recent adventure with Geppetto. “I have my own life now, but Gia and the Estate are still very important parts of my life.”
Cassandra even under pleasurable dourest felt strange introducing herself, but through her pants and sighs of excitement proceeded. She needn’t have been embarrassesed; Kimberly seemed to be enjoying her trails. “I’m sure Gia means us to be close. When I can think, can we meet properly?” Cassandra’s head pushed back into the pillow as Giselle got her rhythm just right.
“There are some things you should know.” Kimberly was obviously waiting to give Cassandra news that could not be transcribed through a servant. “Gia is acting against those she suspects are party to the attempted coup. You will have duties to perform at the Estate as a result to free up Gia’s time.” Kimberly seemed to have stated her business, and then in afterthought. “Dalton rang. It seems a young girl he had breed by design has been born. Apparently you are to be told as you will play some role in her upbringing.”
Cassandra remembered the painting in Dalton’s Manor, the beautiful ebony girl he had been inspired to design and whom he wanted to have the qualities he liked in Cassandra. “Than….. Thank you for telling….. Telling me.” Cassandra tried to articulate as Giselle drew her closer to climax.
Kimberly giggled and started for the door. “Giselle will untie you when you’re done. I’ll be in the office with Gia discussing affairs all morning.” She opened the door to exit Cassandra’s room. “Come when you have leave.”
Chapter 2. House Keeping.
Cassandra had been untied to her room surrounded by parcels of belongings from her house near Harvard, and new gifted belongings for the coming Autumn. She felt the tingle in her clit as she rose. Her lips were moist, but the urge to pleasure herself has subsided. A note lay by her bed on the night stand from Gia.
Cassandra,
I have preparations to make so could not be there for your awakening. If you require servicing Lilianna will make arrangements. Giselle will shadow Anetta for induction on serving you. The two seem to share an affection. Get comfortable and then seek me out.
Love Gia.
Anetta had obviously taken her leave with Giselle. She’d likely gone to the library and had taken Giselle in tow, officially to introduce her to leisure time, but Cassandra suspected the repressed affection of her little Maid would give a new meaning to the term “leisure time” and she had to admit, Giselle was remarkable at what she did.
Lilianna knocked on the open door as Cassandra rose to unpacked. Cassandra had taken note of the unconventional attire for a House Keeper when she wore. The black satin brazier was visible under the cotton dress more suited to an Ibiza nightclub or rave than the Estate. The dress was loose fitting around her waist but her breasts were prominent and perfect. The hem line was high but did not cling to her hips. Cassandra gave a brief thought to directing her wardrobe, but her instincts told her Lilianna’s subdued drive for independence should not be toyed with.
“Enter.” Cassandra issued and the House Keeper glided into the room shutting the door behind her. The confidences of her steps seemed to have a hic-up, but her poise was every bit that of her Station.
“You should let your Maids do that.” She said referring to the manual labor of Cassandra unpacking, and also to the fact that Giselle was now also her servant.
“I like them to have some liberties Lilianna.” Cassandra replied politely. Lilianna was usually strictly business and she wondered if the House Keeper was concerned about jealousy amongst the other Maids so close to the Harvest. Knowing that in two days time the Maids would be selected by quests for terrible deaths should mean that there would be no long term affect on discipline.
“They have locked themselves in the library so I could not enter.” Lilianna said, but there was no sign of annoyance in her voice. Again Cassandra was confused, if her Maids making love in the library was not the issue then Lilianna’s business was almost inefficiently being held back.
“You’re Pet Kaley” Lilianna followed, giving a title to Kaley’s position in the House, “is still being kept in the breeding stables. I assume you want her on hand for indulgences. Have you given consideration to how she will be restrained until she has been tamed?”
“I don’t have much experience with such things. Lilianna.” Cassandra said. It was obvious that this was also not the issue Lilianna had come to see her about either. The presence of her voice had changed, she was not forceful and omnipresent like usual. The traces of resentment present at a mere intern being her Mistress were absent. Something was on Lilianna’s mind. Cassandra decided to play along. “What do you suggest?”
“Shackles can be attached to your bed. A cross like Mistress Gia has can be moved in. A chain and collar to a secure point, or even a small padded cage can all easily be arranged almost immediately. More intricate suggestions like suspension from the ceiling will take time, but your imagination is the limit Mistress.” Lilianna finished the options and smiled, trying to conceal her uncharacteristic nervousness. She still was hesitant to state her business and Cassandra suspected it may have something to do with the threat to overthrow Gia. None of this business already discussed justified Lilianna having closed the door for privacy.
“Lilianna do you credit me with perceptive skills?” Cassandra questioned. If the unstated business was about the threat to Gia, Cassandra would cut to the chase.
Lilianna hid her panic very well. Only the slight tensing of her neck muscles gave her away. “I…. I’m…” Lilianna seemed at a loss for words. Her body language shifted. The posture and confidence that had been held until know had naturally reverted back to childhood insecurity. Slowly Lilianna pulled up her loose fitting dress, past her shaved privates until her belly was exposed. A small bulge was present and Cassandra realized instantly that Lilianna was in the early stages of pregnancy.
Cassandra immediately understood. Lilianna would be striped of her position and placed in the stables until the baby was born. The baby would be taken by the Society to be raised and Lilianna’s fate after that would be at the discretion of the dinner guests, or at the whim of Gia’s breeding program. Lilianna knew that Gia would be strict in this instance; she was coming to Cassandra out of hope of compassion.
Cassandra, quick in gaining position selected her tact and politely state her terms. “If I help you Lilianna, you’re going to have to shift you’re view of me.”
“I will.” Lilianna agreed eagerly and with a sincerity that indicated thought on the matter. Cassandra’s offer of assistance being the thing Lilianna desired.
“I mean it. I will no longer be something you are ashamed to belong to. You will accept the grace of my compassion.”
Lilianna dropped her dress so it hung naturally. To her credit she had selected a wardrobe that hid her condition perfectly. “You will have my loyalty and gratitude.” Lilianna dipped her head, the confidence of her position returning.
“Gia has external stresses. Hearing of this would result in her expediting the situation. Keep your secret; when the time is right I will speak to Gia and plead for you to retain your position.
Lilianna quaked as if the point she intended had not been made.
Cassandra realized that Lilianna was not only concerned for her safety, but for that of her child. In her experience with House Keepers as autocratic dictators of Society doctrine, it had not occurred to her that their sadist nature could be overpowered by anything, not even maternal instinct. Cassandra had misread the situation; Lilianna was concerned for the child.
“Most of us are cattle. Less than a handful make it old age.” Lilianna was pleading again.
Cassandra remembered the child Dalton had spoke of; the one he dreamed from a painting, inspired by Cassandra herself and how it would be raised for a special purpose. She knew there was a chance she could make the same argument to Gia and express a desire to design Lilianna’s child. To the point, it aided in the argument she would lay forward. “I will make a case to have the child raised outside of Saudi Arabia. I need to find a propose for the child.”
Lilianna was sated by hope, and her promise of loyalty seemed to be braced, for the moment at least.
“Dalton Monroe has had a child conceived to emulate my company within the Society. I will argue that the girl requires a loyal friend raised of a similar mind. That should grant your child a reprieve from a guided upbringing and place it above servantile status; hopefully.” Cassandra was resourceful in plan at least. The execution of the idea was a different matter. Gia would see the request as a favor. Maybe it would be granted from affection; maybe payment would be required.
“Thank you Mistress. You are smarter than I credited you.” Honesty to Cassandra was Lilianna’s greatest thanks. “Is there any way I may be of assistance.” Lilianna said resuming her role.
“No Lilianna, please tend to the Estates running.” Cassandra paused from her unpacking. The libido she had been infected with tingled slightly. She was just getting used to it, but already she knew it would only increase. As Lilianna opened the doors to leave her to finish unpacking Cassandra turned and said, “Wait, Lilianna. Have Kaley bought to my room and shackled to the bed.”
Our body’s chemistry dictates our behavior more than we know and Cassandra’s hesitation at the Societies indulges had been lifted slightly by a dramatically increased hunger for sex. The knowledge she was arranging to indecently assault an abducted woman, didn’t seem to concern her like it should. Geppetto’s words ran through her mind, “Soon you will realize this is a gift for your Station.”
Chapter 3. Accepting no right of Consent.
Cassandra had only half unpacked as Lilianna led the parade back into Cassandra’s room. Lilianna was followed by the guard servant Tomas, the man who had shielded Cassandra from the hungry Russian when she had first gotten in trouble at the Estate almost a year ago. Cassandra would have smiled at him, still grateful he protected her, but she was troubled by his face, all business as he used intimidation to drag along a beautiful blond woman, clean but with matted hair she had obviously just been showered and dried. Kaley Morris walked fearfully, on a collared leash held by Tomas into Cassandra’s room. Her eyes lit up with surprised terror at seeing Cassandra who wore only a silk kimono. As Kaley’s mouth dropped in both understanding and horror Cassandra calmly said, “Hello Miss Kaley Morris. Get on the bed please.”
“Cassandra, just please tell me…” Kaley began to plea. Tomas tugged on the leash. A whimpering cry silenced Kaley
Cassandra knew this was a ritual. It was three versus one and she was in charge of the trio working to dominate the helpless ballet teacher. “What’s going on?” Cassandra said finishing her sentence, “What’s going on is that you need to get on the bed.” Cassandra had shared Gia’s company long enough to know how to play the dominatrix. Internally it is not how she wanted the encounter to play out. She sought to visit Kaley in her holding cell in the breeding stables and through dialogue subdue her. But perhaps Gia’s way, practiced and perfected was best, and her new found libido had expedited the process. Once Kaley knew she was Cassandra’s now, Cassandra could play it any way she saw fit.
“I just want to go home.” Kaley pleaded. Her beautiful body, always the embodiment of grace had a defeat curl to it. She tried to shield her privates, knowing they where the prize of her forced nudity.
Cassandra turned to Lilianna. “Has she been harmed in any way?” She asked to make it clear to Kaley that Cassandra was in charge.
“She has not been damaged, but we did water board her on her arrival to calm her fighting spirit.” Lilianna spoke with full servantile grace, as if Kaley’s torture had been a mundane task like sweeping the floor. “And she has seen Rosalita, and it has been made clear things can get much worse if she is not obedient.”
“I don’t want you to have to do anything more serious.” Cassandra said, mock traces of concern in her voice.
Kaley cried out in fear and tried to slink away. Tomas yanked on the chain bringing the cowering woman back to attention.
“Would you get on the bed please Miss Morris?” Cassandra asked civilly to her pet.
This time, with hesitation, Kaley started a slow fearful walk to the double bed. Tomas followed as the leash required it.
“Lay in the centre.” Cassandra said, as if the whole matter was taking too long, and Kaley compiled a stutter in her movements, acquiescence to urgency indicating fear of punishment. She lay with one hand across her breast, the other over her sex.
Lilianna stepped in with shackles and fastened one to the nearest bedpost. Kaley out of reflex cowered away. Lilianna with her free hand grabbed her face turned turned it so she looked her dead in the eye. “You are better off with Mistress Cassandra, than with me.” Her tone was unmistakable and Cassandra realized despite the act the trio play, Lilianna was the true master dominatrix. Kaley surrendered resistance and Lilianna fastened her wrists and ankles to the bedposts. The House Keeper admired her work, tested the tightness of the ropes, and then dutifully turned to Cassandra. She removed the leash, but left the collar. “Good day Mistress” she said and with a glance to Tomas left the room.
As they left Cassandra saw Tomas shoot Lilianna a quizative look that suggested he required an explanation on her sudden diligence in her servitude to Cassandra……. Or an update. Cassandra had a pretty good idea of who had been responsible for Lilianna’s pregnancy.
“Well Miss Kaley Morris” she said turning to her helpless pet. “What am I going to do to you?”
“Cassandra…. Cassandra I don’t know….” Kaley saw Cassandra as someone she could plea with.
Cassandra took a moment and examined her captive. The months of watching and lusting after her ballet teacher came down to this. When she was unconscious, captive in her basement she feared getting caught; but here, she was in a fortress of slaves and Masters. She would be held in suspicion if she didn’t take every indulgence imaginable from this exquisite hostage. Kaley saw the look in Cassandra eyes and gave up pleading. Her face scrunched up and she started weeping. She was not a hard woman outside the studio. Kaley was a sensualist and student of the arts who aspired for greatness in her dance.
“I want you to get used to your new station in life Miss Morris.” Cassandra undid the silk kimono revealing her naked body. “You can earn liberties by complying” she crawled onto the bed and prowled up so her body was alongside the helpless Kaley’s. “And punishments for poor attitude.” Cassandra finally did what she had dreamed of. She leant over Kaley and kissed her quivering belly; once; twice; and on the third time, bit it gently.
Kaley cried out in humiliation and fear. She thought sex was the peril. She knew nothing of the desire Cassandra had to cannibalize her new pet.
“We’ll take it slow.” Cassandra kissed her belly again, and again; moving up towards her breasts. She licked one nipple, it stiffened despite the lack of consent and Cassandra smiled, realizing she could use Kaley’s body against her. Cassandra was face to face with Kaley now. Cassandra at peace with her lust, secured by her station; and Kaley fearful and captivity. She was a beautiful damsel in distress. Cassandra kissed Kaley’s eye and tasted her tears. The urge to get off was Cassandra’s ultimate concern, but she knew she couldn’t just rape Kaley. “We’ll lye here for a while” and Cassandra snuggled into the warmth of Kaley’s fever of fear. “Don’t speak, and nothing will happen.”
This was a test for Cassandra in two ways. If she could resist the desire to get off then she could get control over her new urges with the thing she lusted after most; and if she could refrain from abusing Kaley, she could achieve what she wanted form her. Admiration.
Cassandra didn’t nap. She lay in a tantric state enjoying the warmth and slow panicked breaths of Kaley Morris. After about an hour gently resisting the urge to touch herself she felt as if she had it under control. She opened her eyes. Kaley had been staring at her and immediately looked away knowing any attention would be bad. Cassandra rolled on top of Kaley and mounted her. A shiny line of her vaginal fluids remained where Cassandra had lain on Kaley’s leg. Cassandra took a deep breath to counteract the urges she felt at seeing Kaley who lay still in apprehension.
“I have to figure out how to train you.” Cassandra said openly. “I want more from our relationship than just a hot water bottle.” Cassandra rose, and as she did so run her fingers down Kaley chest and belly. “So perfect” she said thinking of her pet and rose, walking naked to the shower.
After cleaning herself Cassandra dressed into a blue summer dress, one that had been left in her room as a gift. Without Anetta on hand she just pulled her hair into a ponytail and decided to not put on makeup. She was young a beautiful, natural could be easily pulled off. On the way to find Gia, Cassandra walked past the library. She tried the door and it was now unlocked. Anetta sat in her chair; and it had becomes hers as she sat there so frequently, and Giselle sat on the floor at her side. Cassandra hadn’t notice, Anetta being isolated from the other Maids, but she now had an air about her that gave her a natural station above her counterparts. Cassandra knocked on the open door as she had been undetected when she’d opened it.
Anetta looked up and smiled. She immediately placed the book down and rose. Giselle parroting her stance to attention. “There are still some things that need to be unpacked in my room. Please see to them.”
“Yes Mistress.” Anetta answered.
“And please don’t speak to the woman on the bed. Just ignore her, but call Lilianna if she gets out of hand.”
“Yes Mistress.”
Cassandra started to leave the library but a final thought occurred to her. “Please play your affections out with each other in your quarters.” Cassandra said in an effort to prevent the Maids from taking siege of the library for intimate acts. “I’ll arrange to have Giselle’s effect bought to your new room.
The Maids eyes lit up in surprise. It was unheard of, but two junior servants were being given there own quarters.
Cassandra smiled as she left them to their excitement. And walked down the hall. Not by accident, for Cassandra knew there were no accidents with Lilianna, she bumped into the House Keeper. “Taken care of your needs.” Lilianna asked politely.
“More; gain some control over them.” Cassandra replied honestly. If she was to champion Lilianna in her problem she wanted a clean slate with the House Keeper and honesty was a part of that. “How do I train her Lilianna?”
Lilianna was direct. “Torture until surrender and dependence then reward for correct behavior, or…”
Cassandra did not like the idea of hurting Kaley personally; she wanted an affection brought about by mercy without force. “…Or?”
“I think you call it good mistress / bad mistress.” Lilianna smiled. “I punish her daily; starve her; deprived her of relief from basic functions like expelling waste; cleanliness; and rest.” She dipped her head as a signs he was stating the obvious; not wanting to insult Cassandra intelligence a new paradigm in her interactions with her. “You offer treatment; rest; release; hygiene and sleep. She will see you as her benefactor. It will help if you are stern with me when you takeover, as if I am not doing as you please, but what is necessary. If the process is repeated, over time it will tame her.”
“I like that plan.”
Lilianna nodded. “The first sessions must be intense to breakdown her faculties. I will begin immediately. Come collect her in two days.”
“As you see fit Lilianna.” Cassandra was hesitant realizing Lilianna was masterful at torture, but the sooner Kaley was an obedient pet the better. She had demonstrated control to herself, but it was a burden to exercise.
As Lilianna turned to go about her business from the anything but chance encounter she said, “Mistress Eros is waiting in her office with her associates.”
“Thank you.” Cassandra said and head to Gia’s office.
Chapter 4. Further Introductions and Plans.
As Cassandra approached the offices double open doors she could hear the Woman she’d met earlier, Kimberly, speaking to Gia in a manner not often heard; as an equal.
“I’m just saying why did I only just find out you’d taken another intern?” Kimberly asked. There was no malice in her voice; she was just concerned at being out of the loop.
“She didn’t know about you either Kimberly.” Gia answered, and from her tone Cassandra she could tell Gia was multi-tasking. Cassandra wondered why Kimberly didn’t bight her tongue like she did when Gia was busy with other matters. Gia resolved problems instantly; it was rare the urgency of something, let alone an explanation of her action, couldn’t wait.
“So why were we both kept in the dark?” Kimberly was insistent.
“Because I hadn’t decided if I was going to eat one of you; and if so, which one.” Straight to the point, Gia was busy.
Cassandra waited by the side of the door not wanting to further complicate matters. It was futile. Cassandra didn’t know Gia had a security camera outside her office so she could see those approaching.
“You can come in Cassy. Kimberly’s not going to shut-up.” Gia called through the open doors.
Cassandra walked in and smiled. Gia sat behind her desk in a black dress; Kimberly seemed to like posing and leant against the office window in her white dress. Cassandra had deliberately selected the blue dress to be different from Kimberly. “Mistress.” Cassandra said as if reporting for duty.
“I’m just collating guest preferences for the Maids for the Harvest this weekend.” Gia said. Cassandra had almost forgot the Estate was opening and select guests were coming to exterminate the generation of Maids who currently scurried about the house cleaning and maintain Lilianna’s order of things.
“Was Anetta on the list?” Cassandra asked.
“No. I took her off when I sent her to you in America, though Giselle was first choice for a gentleman who has a preference to skin people alive before stripping their flesh.” Gia looked up. “He’ll have to settle for his second preference. You did her a big favor; she owes you so don’t allow any slackness from her.”
“No Mistress.” Cassandra said trying not to think about the liberties Giselle had already been given.
“You never gave me a Maid.” Kimberly said and looked out the window.
“You never used one correctly.” Gia rebutted. “You three should meet properly.”
“Three!” Cassandra was shocked. She suddenly looked around and sitting silently, completely undetected was a tall strong Japanese man. He looked formidable.
Cassandra” Gia said rising and walking around her desk, “This is your sister Kimberly.”
Cassandra smiled “We met briefly under strange circumstances.”
Kimberly relaxed in posture and attitude. “It is nice to meet you when you have your whit’s Cassandra.”
“And this” Gia gestured to the sitting Japanese man who rose as announced “Is Komatsu Takeshi. He is Kimberly’s husband, and her marriage to him is her liberty from me. Kimberly is here of her choice and at my request.”
Cassandra was not a student of Japanese culture but she did her best to bow. Komatsu responded a stern look on his face. She guessed he was not the warm type.
“Komatsu will be on hand to deal with any threats; I’ll need your help stopping Lilianna from seeing his presence as a challenge of authority.” And presence was an understatement. Komatsu wore a dark grey suit, but it was obvious his body was a weapon. With a natural power in his grace Lilianna might see it as a challenge to her position.
“I will speak with her.” Cassandra said and bowed again to Komatsu.
Gia moved back behind the desk. “So. People wish to see me removed from my position. I will weed them out; Komatsu will deal with those I can’t; and Cassandra and Kimberly, you will see to the Estates affairs whilst I am preoccupied.” Gia double checked her list of divvying up the Maids. “Understood.”
“Yes Mistress.” Kimberly and Cassandra both said at the same time. They shot a glance at each other and it was obvious, both were Gia’s prodigy. Komatsu was silent and vigil.
“Kimberly, Komatsu I want you to go about getting settled. And Kimberly, Cassandra picked out a present for you and Komatsu. I’m sure you’ll find her selection intuitive into her mind.” Gia turned to Cassandra. I will be busy this evening. Prepare a dinner for your new family Cassandra.”
Kimberly started out the office followed by Komatsu. “Send word for dinner. Komatsu and I will be inspecting he grounds.” She gently stroke Cassandra’s arm as she passed showing warmth towards her. As they left and walked out of sight Cassandra closed the door and turned to her Mistress.
Gia knew something was the matter for Cassandra was being bald seeking privacy. “What is it?” Gia said. She must have been vexed because she added. “Please do not let it be trivial Cassandra.”
“Now is not the time, but there will never be a good time, so I need to ask you for something and I am prepared to apply what little force I can to get it.” Cassandra stood at attention.
Gia raised an eyebrow, as if Cassandra could apply any force. Then Gia lowered it, realizing Cassandra was very intelligent and those who underestimated her….. “I’m listening.”
“You will let me finish before you judge.”
“Ok.” Gia said. Had she not cared for Cassandra she would have played it differently.
“Lilianna is pregnant. I do not want her stripped from her position or punished, and I want to raise the child to be a companion for the special child Dalton has had conceived recently.”
Gia was silent. “Tomas.” She said, her fast mind calculating the father.
“I like Tomas.” Cassandra extended as if her request was to also blanket his safety.
Gia took a deep breath. “Cassandra, Lilianna is getting old for her station. It would only be a couple of years before this fact alone saw her relieved of her duties.”
“I think we should keep her on. She is still very beautiful and will be for many years, and how loyal will she be when rewards are showered on her child.” Cassandra did not know how Gia would rule.
“I have a lot to do Cassandra, and soon so will you and Kimberly.” Gia flicked open a folder and turned to her computer, as sign she had reached her decision. “Lilianna is your belonging, write to Dalton, if he wants a companion for his special child we will do things your way, if he doesn’t she goes to the stables.” Gia started typing. “Tomas is a loyal servant, we will overlook his breaching the rules of fraternization amongst the staff either way, and he is needed if things go astray.”
“Thank you Mistress.” Cassandra said and turned to take her leave. Her next stop was selling the idea to Dalton, but there was hope for Lilianna.
Chapter 5. Throwing Your First Dinner Party.
Cassandra reflected on things she learnt from her past when making fresh decisions. In this instance, planning dinner to introduce herself to Komatsu and Kimberly she though back to a conversation with Gia in a New York shop whilst searching for Lingerie; White for angelic; Red to be punished; Black to seduce. The practice taken from theory was sound, but the application was no the conventional way to introduce one’s self to your newly discovered sister. Cassandra hoped the attention would be taken as a fumble, a means to show she was not a threat to Kimberly’s standing in Gia’s mind. Cassandra would offer submission to the couple to show she had no intention of shadowing any of their plans, so naturally, she felt vulnerable.
Anetta had seen her Mistress in the mandatory negligee Gia had her wear, and had dressed her, but never for submission of this nature. “This is perhaps very stupid given how little I know about this couple.” Cassandra said, to herself despite the audience of Anetta and Giselle.
“They will want to eat you.” Anetta said. Having Giselle and her own room had given her confidence she was protected at the Estate, and she had no fear of Cassandra.
“That’s kind of the plan.” Cassandra mused on it. “I have to get this wrong.”
Anetta looked puzzled.
Cassandra turned around and took both her hands. “If I do this perfect she’ll see me as a challenge to Gia’s affections. I have to screw this up, not completely, just a little.” Cassandra looked down at her naked chest. “I know this is the wrong statement to make, but if everything else goes as planned I’ll be viewed as capable; and a little naive.” Cassandra turned back to her desk and the phone that only went to the operator at the other end. She picked it up.
“Yes Mistress Blake?”
“Please have someone find Master and Mister Takeshi and ask them to the dining hall.”
“Of course Mistress Blake.”
Cassandra hung up and turned to say goodbye to Anetta. “What are you two doing tonight?” She said questioning the Maids plans, and hopefully encouraging them to make them.
“We’re picking out furniture and colors for our room.” Anetta said.
Cassandra smiled. She hadn’t thought Gia would be so generous to allow them the liberty of interior design.
“Just keep the theme of the rest of the Estate in mind. You have your own room, creating your own world might imply you are not happy here” Cassandra offered as advice and exited the room.
When naked at the Estate there is very little to do other than let everyone know you intended to be naked. Cassandra strutted down the walkway to the dining hall as if it were a catwalk. She passed a couple of doomed Maids, who refrained from making eye contact and the cellar keeper, most likely returning from dropping of a bottle of wine Cassandra had thought his advice on. The cellar keeper gave her a hungry yet shameful side glance and Cassandra felt confidence that her diner guest would want to eat her too. As she entered the dining hall Lilianna was at position and everything had been set up. Fleur was at the head of the table, her arms stretched out and shackled to the heavy wood of the table top. Her bountiful breast lay exposed, hanging over onto the table, above a thin glass-top hot plate. The obvious implication that they would be cooked. A bowl of herbed oil and brush lay between two chairs set up either side. She had a pink ribbon around her chest as offering and a ball gag in her mouth. He was not crying but had a defeated slump to her posture. Cassandra summoned Lilianna with a gesture, trying not to make it seem like an order, the pair finally seemed to be getting along. Lilianna complied and left her post. “Gia has left it to my discretion, but I need Dalton’s approval to raise the child.” Cassandra was straight to the point and spoke hushed save anyone overhear.
Lilianna reflected on this. “Please do your best.” It was very uncharacteristic of Lilianna to say please out of protocol.
“I’ve written to Dalton. We will have his reply soon.” Cassandra said. “He does like me.” She added hoping her reassurance was not in vain.
Lilianna composed herself. “Are you sure about your attire for tonight?”
Cassandra smiled. “Deliberate blunder to indicate absence of threat.”
Lilianna nodded in understanding. Society politics were her foray.
“You are relieved. I will attend to our guests.”
Lilianna nodded again and exited the room only to have Kimberly and Komatsu walk in, arms folded. They took in the scene, and the scene was Cassandra, more vulnerable than Fleur who was about to become dinner.
“I’m not sure who we’re having for dinner?” Kimberly said in comment to Cassandra’s nudity. The pair eyed her up and down, but paid particular attention to Cassandra’s slender legs. Cassandra realized that like Gia and herself they had a preference for a part of the female anatomy.
“If I’d known you liked stems, I’d have arranged dinner differently.” Cassandra gestured to the two chair, one either side of the restrain Fleur. “But the specimen is exquisite” she added
Komatsu bowed at the invitation and they broke embrace to go to their seats. Cassandra moved around behind Fleur, who anticipating the torment of live cooking whimpered in apprehension. As the guest were comfortable Cassandra reached around a tugged on the sash of the bow. It fluttered free exposing Fleur’s perfect breast in their perilous situation. But Cassandra hadn’t finished. She reached around behind Fleur’s neck and unfastened the ball gag.
“Master and Mistress Takeshi, this is Fleur. Cassandra ran her fingers through Fleur’s hair so it hung back over her shoulders. “May you get to know me through my selection of cattle?” Cassandra had blundered in attire and perhaps in dismissing servants so she was the one who served, but she planned to show she could play Gia’s games.
Kimberly clarified “Komatsu took a vow of silence with his employers. He never speaks.” Kimberly reached over the table and stroked Komatsu’s hand, it was then Cassandra saw the missing segment of his pinky and realized he was Yakuza. “But I will play.” Kimberly smiled and turned her attention to Fleur. “Where are you from Fleur?”
Fleur was distressed, but the illusion that there was hope and a chance to plead for mercy was more than she could afford to over look. “From the Alhambra. I’m…..”
Kimberly shook her head and raised a finger. “Answer only what is asked or you’ll spoil the game and bring it to an end.”
Fleur went silent through desperation. An end to the game meant cooking.
“What did you do at the Alhambra?” Kimberly said. She reached for the brush in the oil and dipped it. Fleur watched with great apprehension. Kimberly took the bush and started to paint Fleur’s closest breast.
“I work in the Conservatory.” She answered, not using past tense as if she was still under its employ.
“The Conservatory is where all the finest of the Societies servants are held until they are bought for healthy fees.” She was explaining to Komatsu, who seemed to be enjoying the sight of his wife painting Fleurs perfect breasts. “But you worked there? You didn’t dwell?” Kimberly was addressing Fleur again.
“I was sent there, but I am skilled at organization; logistics; and negotiations so I was promoted to a position of employ. I also have an eidetic memory so I can remember the traits of all the girls and women housed there.” Fleur was pleading her case; arguing she was useful as more than a meal.
“Yet Cassandra chose you over all the perfect women in the Conservatory?” Kimberly had finished painting the closest breast and moved over to the other.
“No! She didn’t even examine what we had to offer. I questioned her; she just picked the first one she saw.” Fleur was making herself out to be a victim; and obviously she was the victim, but not of the claimed crime.
“So my new Sister Cassandra just walked into the Conservatory and pointed to you, and said, I’ll take that one?”
“No… no, not exactly.” Fleur realized her argument had fallen on un-empathetic ears.
“I think she chose you because you were in charge.” Kimberly said and turned to Cassandra.
Cassandra smiled, Kimberly deducing her selection.
Fleur panicked. “You don’t have to. I’m smart; very smart. I can serve you in many environments. I’m beautiful. I speak eight languages fluently and several more at a basic level I can offer you….
Kimberly ignored Fleur’s final attempt at reprieve and reached forward and turned the dial on the hot plate. As the red light illuminated under the glass and the almost instant heat rose Fleur cried out. Cassandra stepped forward with the ball gag and pulled Fleur’s head back, forcing it in. She fastened it and stepped towards the House Keeper position.
“Please let me know when they are cooked to your liking and enjoy the show.” Cassandra said, and produced a carving knife.
“Smart girls do suffer better.” Kimberly said to Komatsu, and he nodded in agreement.
Fleur had only just started to feel the heat from the hotplate and already she was furiously tugging at her restrained arms trying to get free. The hotplate must have been efficient for soon the gag was muffling her screams, her nerves fresh to the heat. The tears came; Cassandra was slightly disappointed, the monotamy of every victim acting the same way as they cooked failed to entice her she hoped for something better from Fleur; and then as a surprise, she got it.
Once the initial wave of heat had burnt out the nerves in Fleurs delicate breasts a bestial nature was exposed. Relieved from the pain Fleur took control of the horror of being cooked and glared at Kimberly with vindictive rage; as if she was cursing her by will. Melting lipids from the soft breasts changed their shape and welled up through the skin mixing with the herbed oil before steaming off in a delicious aroma.
Kimberly smiled amused; an act that only encouraged the defiance in the meal. Slowly Kimberly leant over and whispered something in Fleurs ear. Cassandra could not hear it, but Fleur went ghostly pale and started screaming again.
What did she say? Cassandra guessed it was an account of what the pair would do with the rest of Fleur. Cooking her breast wasn’t lethal; there would be much beautiful meat left to play with. The expressions of Fleur’s sufferings seemed to entertain Cassandra’s guests greatly. Periodically Kimberly would apply more oil with the brush or poke a breast with the chopstick (they were Japanese after all) to see if it was cooked; signs that the skin was separating from the flesh became apparent. The soft cooked tissue would be marbled flesh full of flavor. After about twenty minutes Kimberly seemed satisfied. “She’s ready.” Kimberly said over her shoulder and Cassandra stepped forward. Picking up a plate she sliced off Fleurs nipple, the sight to Fleur bought about another round of muffled screams, before thinly slicing her breasts into a centric layers of meat thin enough to be eaten with the chopsticks. She moved around to Komatsu’s side and repeated the process. She served him last despite men coming first in Japanese culture. Cassandra guessed from what little she had seen of the couple that they shared a bond were Komatsu wouldn’t mind Kimberly being attended to first. Once the plates had their meat Cassandra turned off the hot plate. Fleur eroded breasts had been cooked, the wounds were not fatal.
“One moment.” Cassandra said, asking for a delay in the commencement of their eating. She hurried down the table and produced a silver tray laden with dipping sources, gravies, and vegetable (most likely not to be eaten) for show. She stood behind Kimberly waiting for them to taste her dinner.
Komatsu selected a piece of meat from his plate and skillfully curled it with his chopsticks. He chose to taste it plain and chewed. He gave a rare smile to Kimberly, and then turned his head to extend it to Cassandra. He approved.
Kimberly turned around and Cassandra leant over to receive the comment. “Well done little sister; he seldom smiles.”
The pair ate in silence. Cassandra had her duties as servant and Komatsu never spoke. Despite the quiet, it was an occasion of warmth.
Chapter 6. Finalizing the Day.
Surprisingly, Komatsu was the one who ate slowly. Kimberly ate fast and sampled all the dips and sources. She even, to Cassandra surprise, took advantage of the vegetables. When they had finished eating, defeated and a nervous wreck, Fleur, eyed them with fear. Whatever Kimberly had whispered still held, and the dinner knew her ordeal was not over.
Kimberly rose and turned to Cassandra. “Thank you for a lovely meal Cassandra.”
“Please, call me Cassy. Everyone I’m close to in the Society does.” Cassandra smiled.
“Some advice” Kimberly said politely eyeing Cassandra up and down. “Try not to look more appetizing than dinner.” Kimberly gently placed her right index finger on Cassandra’s swollen clitoris.
Cassandra yelped from its sensitivity despite her usual composure. Despite Kimberly’s warning, her plan had work perfectly. Kimberly thought her fallible and would not see her as threat.
In the back ground Komatsu unfastened Fleurs arms. Fleur’s ravaged body slumped back and onto the floor helpless. She tried to slink away as Komatsu grabbed one of her legs and firmly caressed it, obvious this was his choice of meat, and that the pair would be having more of Fleur tomorrow.
“You may take your leave Cassy.” Kimberly said coming over to examine the long muscular legs of their prey. “Komatsu and I will make arrangements for Fleur’s treatment and health till our dinner tomorrow.
Though unseen as the two seemed focused on their prize Cassandra bowed and walked back to her room. Her clitoris still itched from Kimberly’s tap and she felt her libido firing. She hurried to her room. Once there she closed the door and picked up the phone.
The operator, the one who never seemed to speak answered. “Yes Mistress Blake.”
“Could you please connect a line to the Maid Anetta’s room?”
“Of course Mistress Blake.” There was a pause then the phone rang, and rang.
It occurred to Cassandra that Anetta had never received a phone call before. After a minute and a half Anetta’s voice softly answered. “Yes.”
“It’s me Anetta.” Cassandra said.
“Mistress?” Anetta said, identifying her and awaiting instructions.
“Is Giselle there?” Cassandra needed some attention.
“Yes.”
“Could you send her to my…..” Cassandra stopped. She thought about using her little Maid as a means to get off. She felt reliant upon it, but didn’t know the effect it would have on Anetta; Giselle being her lover. “Actually, forget about it Anetta.” Cassandra rubbed her sex. “You two have a pleasant night’s sleep.”
Ignorant of what nearly happened Anetta’s happy voice came through the line “You too Mistress.”
Cassandra hung up the phone and walked to her computer. She checked her messages. She’d received an email from Dalton, not having his number at the Alhambra it was her only way of contacting him. She clicked the message.
Dearest Cassy,
A playmate for my special little creation sounds wonderful. I trust the heritage of the child is unique coming from Lilianna and a pure Italian (Gia must have also written to him about the matter). I would be happy for your first breeding project, even if created by accident, to act as a companion to mine. Be mindful that the Estate is not a suitable for a child. Quarters will have to be built to shield it from all goings on until it is of appropriate age. However I required something from you in return for this grace.
Firstly: My father has me busy decorating (tattooing) Maids and servants for the Spring Estate. I am running low on designs and your creativity would be appreciated. Attached are photos of the girls. Kindly create decoration for each and I will ink the art.
Second: Gia is under pressure. Please offer your body to her. Affection from someone she can trust will put her at ease. Though I caution you, as a woman, this may involve her needle.
If these terms are met, my blessing will be continued.
Regards,
Dalton Monroe
Cassandra finished reading the message. It didn’t take much thought. She was already suitably dressed and Gia would be at work somewhere. All she had to do was find her and offer herself to her. It would solve her libido problem, but also redefine her relationship with her Mistress. She sighed, rose and headed to Gia’s office, where no doubt she would still be at work.
Part 2. The Harvest.
Chapter 1. Coming on Noon; the Arrival of the Guests.
Petite and innocent like adolescent girls the Estates Maids stood in a line. The marching they had been taught as children came in handy, for they would have to stand at attention all day subject to the discretionary arrival of the guests. Each Maid had been shown a photograph of a guests, or guests in the case of couples, to care for and they waited in turn for their arrival to carry their belongings and see them settled in, before serving them throughout the day.
At Nine PM Lilianna would ring a bell throughout the Estate, and the guests would pounce on their attendants. The Maids would probably scream and try to flee in vane, only to be turned on by the very Estate they served to die for the entertainment of those they’d attracted.
“First Harvest?” Kimberly asked. Cassandra liked to keep the door of her room open to save anyone from thinking she was keeping secrets. Kaley was asleep on the bed, not disturbed by Kimberly’s question asked as she past the doorway. Kaley had been through quiet the ordeal at the hands of Lilianna. Every one of her movements suggested damage, yet she did not have a mark on her. She had a fever and periodically woke screaming, only to be calmed and offered a mild narcotic tonic by Cassandra. Kaley had already stopped resisting Cassandra’s gifts due to the reprieve from relentless punishment and the narcotic. In a few months Kaley would be ready to offer gifts of her own.
Cassandra was perched on her window watching the line of Maids erode as the guests arrived. The innocent little things, to close to adolescent girls for Cassandra’s liking, had no idea they were hours from agonizing deaths. “Yes.” Cassandra said rising and moved to approach her sister.
“Kimberly halted her with a gesture of the hand and walked in. “I’ve been to three, and I’ve even selected a Maid myself once.” Kimberly didn’t seem to think there was any betrayal in the event, her voice was perfectly composed. “I’m curious how you feel about it. You adopted two Maids to keep. You must have liked them.”
Cassandra smiled. “Anetta helped me survive my first ordeal. Reciprocating the favor was part of the deal.”
“But you also claimed Giselle. You didn’t even know her when we first met.” Kimberly scanned Cassandra as if checking a China bowl for cracks.
“Giselle was for Anetta.” Cassandra didn’t see the point in concealing the fact of her attachment to Anetta. “Anetta is my friend now.”
Kimberly’s curiosity grew. “You mean lover?”
“No. Lover never. I mean friend. The Maids are people, they are capable of feelings and they have a loyalty that never betrays.”
“Huh.” Kimberly said surprisingly. Cassandra would have thought Kimberly’s life before her internship would give her a conscious, weather she chose to listen to it or not. “Best locked Anetta and Giselle in your room tonight. Sometimes the guests aren’t sated by just one victim and go looking for others.”
“I will do that.” Cassandra said taking the advice, and note of Kimberly’s indifference to the Maids. Whatever her back story, the Maids had not helped her.
“Well. I’ll leave you to training your pet.” Kimberly smiled and as she exited gave Kaley naked body a healthy examination with her eyes. “Scrumptious.” Kimberly said in reference to the bound ballet teacher, and left the room.
Cassandra’s phone rang. It was situated on a stand right beside were Kaley lay. As it sung out Kaley woke and started to cry for mercy again trapped in a memory of one of Lilianna’s torments. She must have been tortured beyond her stamina for she always woke thinking the ordeal was continuing. Cassandra rushed to her side and shushed her, stroking her brow. Seeing it was Cassandra and not Lilianna calmed Kaley to near silent long breaths of distress. Cassandra answered the phone.
“I want you again.” Gia’s voice came clear through the line. It was in reference to Cassandra’s surprise visit to her office a couple nights ago. Gia had not been surprised, but had been delighted to educate a clear virgin in her now implemented bi-sexuality.
“Mistress I would love to comply, but I’m taking advantage of the last of my free time to tame my pet.” Cassandra was diplomatic.
“It’s not a request Cassandra.” Gia overruled the current activity, but added. “I’ll come to you.” She hung up the phone.
Cassandra did not have time to summon Anetta to be propped. Hastily she rose and unzipped her dress, leaving it lying on the floor. No time for makeup, no time for hairstyling. She headed straight for the shower and turned on the water. Ice cold at first then heating, Cassandra stayed under until she was drenched, hair wet and mated. She ran from the bathroom dripping wet leaving a trail of puddles making it to the centre of her room just as Gia closed the distance from her office.
She found Cassandra wet and slippery, shivering and totally exposed a picture of surprised vulnerability. Just what a Mistress like Gia craved...
“Cassy” Gia said admiring the helpless intern. “Always coming up with new ways to entice.” Gia closed the door and then the gap between them. One arm wrapped round her waist whilst the other grasped her sex, claiming it. Gia leant in and kissed Cassandra passionately for a moment before pulling away, bighting Cassandra’s lower lip. “Go mount your bed. You need lessons on eating pussy, and your little pet will be your notepad.
It was uncommon for Gia to use words like “pussy”, but affection meant she got to see a whole other side of her Mistress, one removed from the act of perfection given to others. Gia had seemed almost nervous at delving into Cassandra’s sex for a prolonged period of time. Worried Cassandra would not like a woman’s bight. Cassandra complied, she could hear Gia close the window and start disrobing. Cassandra was on all fours, her head at Kaley’s crutch. Kaley had been waxed to a pre-pubescent smoothness. Her vagina was neat, her labia’s trim and firm. Cassandra could smell the lavender wash she had been sparingly washed with to remove the sweet and saliva of Lilianna’s games.
“Kiss it.” Gia said placing her hand on Cassandra’s back.
Cassandra went down and kissed Kaley’s clitoris. Kaley stirred and whimpered. It was hard to describe the noises the Societies victims made as anything other than whimpers. There is no symmally for a distress gentle moan, and no simpler way to describe it.
“Now taste it.” Gia’s hand stroked the sensitive skin of the small of Cassandra’s back.
Cassandra had been on the receiving end of the last sexual encounter between the two. Now she was working. Cassandra, being watched tasted the pretty slit from one end to the other. A salty flavor came to her tongue and mixed with the scent of the lavender. Kaley was feverish, but responded part way through the taste.
“Find that spot, and concentrate on it.” Gia said, her hand skimming over Cassandra prone bottom.
Cassandra repeated the action listening hard for a change in Kale’s breathing; a twitch; a shift in her position. She found the spot and as directed, worked it; not neglecting the rest, just focusing. Cassandra was a quick learner.
“Good girl.” Gia said, enjoying the show as Kaley now became distress at the coming rape. Her sex became moist despite herself and she started to thrash her head about. Kaley seemed afraid to tug on her restraints or resist by shifting her pelvis. Such behavior had obviously been met with punishment by Lilianna.
“Please don’t.” Kaley begged, but didn’t insist, as if that too was an option repaid by pain.
Cassandra worked for five minutes or so, Kaley finally fatigued beyond resisting, but still being traumatized. Kaley cried out and slumped, her belly quivered and it was obvious she had been forced to pleasure. Cassandra pulled her mouth away, coming up her body and bighting her belly; teasing herself now with the thought of eating her former ballet teacher and now pet.
“Ok Cassy.” Gia said as Cassandra sat on the bed and faced her Mistress. “Now do me.”
Chapter 2. 13:30 Preparing for Sadists.
Gia reciprocated what Cassandra had learnt as long as time allowed. To Gia, an orgasm did not indicate an end to her responsibilities of sating Cassandra’s libido. Already her absence would have been noted and she could not indulge in the hyper sexuality of her little intern any longer. As Cassandra lay prone on the floor recovering from her last orgasm Gia crawled up her body. “We are lovers now Cassy.” She said staring intensely into the flushed face whom she’d saved nine months ago. “I don’t think Dalton will mind, but you’d best be careful; you can hurt me now.” Gia delivered the warning with a passionate kiss then pulled herself up. “Call Anetta for me. I’ll shower here and then she’ll have to redo my hair and makeup.” Gia picked up her dress and marched to the room ensuite. Cassandra was still panting on the floor.
Kaley had succumbed to her exhaustion again and lay still. Cassandra figured when Lilianna came to collect her she would argue for her to have more rest; but surrender her to Lilianna anyway to play her part and encourage the process of their plan “Who’d have thought rape was fun.” Cassandra said to herself thinking back to the way Kaley’s sex has surrendered to her. What delicacies lied ahead in her domination? She forced herself to get up and picked up the phone.
“Yes Mistress Blake” Came the familiar voice of the operator. Cassandra briefly wondered who she was and where she was, but didn’t care.
“Please put me through to Anetta’s room, and if there is no answer, through to the library.”
“Yes Mistress Blake.”
The phone rang through for Anetta’s room and Cassandra heard Gia humming in her shower. It was the Spanish opera she hummed when she saw Dalton; she was humming it for Cassandra now too. There was a click, which Cassandra assumed was the phone tapping over to the Library. Three rings and a bashful Giselle answered “Yes”, not knowing whom she was addressing.
“Hello Giselle.”
“Hello Mistress.”
“I need Anetta to prep Mistress Gia in my quarters could both of you please come here immediately.
“Yes Mistress.”
“And Giselle. Bring everything you need for the night. Both of you will be staying in my room this evening, even through dinner.” Cassandra hung up the phone. Anetta knew what was coming but Giselle may not have.
Moments later Anetta and Giselle appeared carrying a picnic basket; plackets and pillows. They were efficient little things. Giselle had a book with her and Cassandra gestured to a seat by the window she could relax in. Anetta busily got out the tools and implements for her envisaged creation on Gia. It was not the first time she had done Gia’s polish and she had grown in confidence. Anetta stood at attention waiting for Gia to appear from the shower. Neither made seemed phased by Kaley’s feverish shuffle in her semiconscious state, nor by Cassandra remnant nudity from the sex she had just been party to. They were both in their Maids costumes, a fact Cassandra would change once the new generation of Maids arrived tomorrow. She liked the look of Anetta in summer dresses and the Mediterranean weather of the Estate lended to them. It would distinguish them from the other servants, but more importantly offer as indication to the guests that they were protected.
Gia sat in the chair in front of the vanity and smiled at Anetta. “Come now Anetta; spare none of your talents, I need to look perfect.”
“Yes Mistress” Anetta replied already going to work with a brush and hair dryer.
“I expect you to make an appearance too Cassandra. Go shower and you can be done next.” Gia was directing her.
“I was going to sit guard with Giselle and Anetta.” Cassandra replied.
A look from Gia indicated she had social obligations to meet and Cassandra dipped her head and head straight for her shower. She took her time under the water knowing that Gia would need that time to take on perfection. Ordinarily she would question her sexuality; question her acts to Kaley, but she had no friend who would be discouraging of such events. It became obvious, both her sexuality and morals when not judged sought to expand their horizons. She resolved, perhaps trivially to try to hold on to her moral compass for the big picture. Kimberly had been though the same experiences and lived in the outside world. She was also perhaps the only person she could seek advice from; Gia might not understand her desire to keep a conscious in reserve.
Chapter 3. 14:00. Daddy Issues.
The smile Cassandra had on her face as she walked by Gia’s side vanished when her eyes met Senator Charles Blake; Father; Dad; Daddy when she was little. When Cassandra’s Mother had died of Cancer during her high school years her father had isolated himself from them, at the time she thought not to witness his pain, but now she thought it was not to halt the momentum of his enterprise in himself. Cassandra has spent all her school holidays and weekends on his endless campaigning, her only reprieve her dancing and homework. Despite his lack of attention to her, Cassandra had learnt much of what had saved her from the cannibals from sitting by his side as he negotiated and charmed VIP’s. But now she was at Gia’s side, loyal, and a newly activated lover.
“Sweet Pea”. Her father said as He greeted Gia. It was something at least he acknowledges his kin over the Estate Mistress. “You look so beautiful.”
Cassandra and Gia both wore Autumn dresses for the Mediterranean. Light fabric, tightly fitting and showing Cassandra’s pale skin in contrast to Gia’s olive velvet flesh. Cassandra was agonized into silence and her Society smile failed. Gia answered for her. “One wonders why you ever gave her up!” Gia did not release Senator Charles Blake’s hand from the shake. She was demanding he give her his absolute attention.
“She….. It was…..” The Society did not usually give those sentenced to the kitchen a reprieve. He must have known this would be awkward, but had not counted on Gia’s open hostility. He was depending on the status quo expected from him to be present in the exchange.
“It was clearly a mistake on your part. Your career obviously blinded you to the brilliance you had at hand, though, you hardly had the resources to establish her momentum.”
Charles Blake wavered, Gia still held his hand.
“Heaven knows where she’ll be when she gets released and that momentum flies in the direction of its choosing.” Gia released her grip.
Charles Blake was intimidated to defensiveness. “I’m still her father.” He said looking for an exit to an interaction he should never have sought, but instead showing antagonism. Perhaps he had held the belief that he had inroads with Gia because she liked Cassandra.
“And I’m her Mistress.” Gia smiled. “Come Cassandra I want to introduce you to David Mallet. His salon, Salon de Coiffeuris the perfect place to loan Anetta. She’ll be in heaven there.” Gia moved on as if Cassandra father was nobody. Cassandra followed, not having said a word to the man who’d have traded her life for votes he didn’t even need to win his election.
As they weaved through the small crowd, gathered for the coming Harvest Cassandra could see the courtyard and balconies spectacled with the Estates Maids, awaiting instruction and following the guests like duckling after their mothers. She looked back. An Ebony Maid she recognized, but had never learnt the name of was standing by her father’s side. She wondered what twisted fate he had spent the year planning for her.
Chapter 3.5. 21:01. Daddy Issues (Continued).
“Please Gia. I don’t want to watch.” Cassandra had said in the privacy between groups as she and Gia navigated the scene.
Gia had sighed and run her hand affectionately over Cassandra’s check. “Seal yourself away with your pets then, and keep them safe.” Gia leant in and had opening kiss Cassandra on the lips, delicately, in a display of public affection. Gia’s ownership of Cassandra obvious and unmistakable to the guests. It was also a show that Cassandra had submitted completely.
As Cassandra hurried back to her room she pushed the door open. Giselle still sat in the chair she had been directed for reading, never seeking another perch other than the one offered. Anetta was absent. Cassandra had called out. “Anetta.”
Kaley woke and cried out, but Cassandra didn’t care. Giselle, sensing the apprehension in Cassandra’s voice had dropped her book and rose. “She went to get milk for the tea.” The Maids had laid out a tea set from the picnic basket. Milk must have been absent.
“She went to the kitchen?” The house was not safe.
Giselle was growing distress too. Years of conditioning made her fear a Masters apprehension. “To the milking shed.” She almost cringed in anticipation of punishment. The pair had been given liberties and had somehow spoiled their freedom in Giselle’s mind. Cassandra had no time to reassure Giselle. The grounds were less safe than the Estate house. Anetta was not privy to the timing of the Harvest.
The Bell had rung, dead on nine. A terrible cheer rose, and then the cries of surprise followed an introduction into the screams. Giselle back into the corner, tears coming down her face. All she knew is something bad was happening.
In the present Cassandra had a flash of memory to when she was learning to drive. She was on a winding road doing Eighty miles an hour when a Fawn had stepped into her path. In s split second she realized she could not swerve or break hard if she was to stay in control of the vehicle, she had resolved to drive straight into it. It was a split second resolution and a mindset that had saved her countless times. Now it told her what to do.
Cassandra picked up the phone. The same courteous voice that always knew who was on the other end form any phone in the Estate. This persona on the phone knew who and where she was.
“Yes Mistr…..”
“Send Tomas to me. I’m heading to the barn,” she hung up and ran out of her room, for the first time locking the door with the key that had stayed in the lock every time she’d been at the Estate. When she was new to Gia, it had locked her in; now it secured Giselle.
Cassandra erupted into a courtyard filled with young woman being stripped; men and women probing every gravis. Tools and implements of torture were being produced as Maids were strapped to structures and racks being bought out of storage, where they would be slashed, lashed and broken before consumption. She ignored it and ran now bar foot (stepping out of her heals) across the ground to the barn. Part way there steady fit steps at her side. Tomas, unknowingly now as loyal as Lilianna, had joined her and ran by her side as protection against Cassandra’s fear.
As they approached the barn the door was wide open and a bald Anetta protested. “I have jewelry.” Her voice was stressed, but the confidence Cassandra had given her indicated she knew she was not to be taken. The cows stirred at the disturbance in their world that was filled only with their stimulation and daily attendance.
“I don’t give fuck who you belong to you little bitch. I’m going to rape and eat you fucking raw.” The amplitude of the voice and the malevolence of the claim as Cassandra and Tomas entered the barn was not needed for Cassandra to recognize her father’s voice, his words speaking to his character true and clear. It was a character he hid even from the members of the Society, ashamed of it, or somehow to maintain the delusion he was better than them at a base level.
“NO!” Cassandra stood in the doorway, strangely not out of breath, the drama was not at an end.
Tomas paused for a moment at hers side.
Cassandra’s father had torn Anetta’s dress and his hand cropped her half naked body. He threw her to the ground. “This has nothing to do with you Cassandra.” He said. “Get out.”
Cassandra took in the scene. Her father stood, cornering Anetta. To the side behind the row of cattle, the ebony Maid lay motionless in a finalized fall. Blood ran from her head. Cassandra suspected her father had taken her to the barn ashamed to kill her in public and in a struggle she had fallen striking her head fatally. Feeling entitled to a Maid, Anetta the victim of bad timing, he’d replaced his victim.
“I said no. Anetta is mine!” Cassandra’s tone could not be misinterpreted, even if her boast of ownership was counter to her desire for Anetta’s liberty. She was giving her father an order.
“I paid for a Maid and I’m going to…..”
“Tomas. Kill my father.” There was no mistaking the words. They were planned, weather the threat had been her father of not. Gia was not there to see, but she would have marveled at the demeanor and poise of Cassandra as she exercised her will. The very essence of the superiority over people as lesser beings came to a priori in Cassandra’s mind. Her father could be disposed of for her comfort.
Tomas took a step forward.
Cassandra’s father faltered at the sentence, but more seriously at the obedience of a Society Servant at her command despite his status above him. He stepped away from Anetta securing her escape.
Cassandra could have called Tomas of, she had what she wanted, but she let him continue his march.
Now Cassandra’s father realized he was in Cassandra home. “Cassandra Blake stop this this instance.” He tried to order.
Deaf ears.
Tomas marched closer.
Cassandra’s father shuffled in stance as Tomas rounded the stupefied and insane cows so no obstacle was between them. “Cassandra please, I’m sorry” Came the voice of absolute realization that any relationship they’d ever had was dead. But he needed mercy. “Cassandra please tell him to stop.”
“Stop Tomas.” Cassandra ordered as Tomas tensed his body to beat the life out of the man who once was Cassandra’s father. “Please carry Anetta for me. If they see her in your arms they will know she is protected.”
Tomas, indifferent to the kill or not moved past Cassandra’s father not even eyeing him as a threat and gently scooped up and cowering Anetta. He started to walk out of the barn carrying this pardoned vulnerable past the cows he’d branded and left to insanity.
As he walked proximal and then past Cassandra she calmly said to her father. “You’re going to leave. You don’t holiday here anymore.” With total indifference she turned and walked with Tomas back to her room.
Chapter 4. Rear View Window.
They were locked in Cassandra’s room now. Tomas stood outside the door on guard, asked by Cassandra to reassure the two surviving Maids of their safety. The scene upon returning to the room had been a greater ordeal than dealing with her father. That testified to the manner in which Cassandra had grown to her life in the Society. Anetta had been carried into the room by Tomas. As he set her down and she thanked him Giselle, who had been hiding under the bed that Kaley laid on appeared and the duo had a touching reunion accompanied by tears and the stirring confusion that they had been raised for the screams that emanated through the inwards and door. The betrayal of their upbringing had been exposed to them. Cassandra realized that the hardest part of saving them would be reassuring their safety and somehow circumventing the injustice of their Masters.
The door opened and Lilianna sparing a moment from her monumental duties of the evening came. Obviously the operator at the end of the telephone reported to her. She stayed only briefly to pass on a small silver container containing two tablets. “If they accept these from you, you have their trust and they will sleep calmly.” She nodded to the two Maids, a recognition they had not received prior to tonight, and left as quickly as she’d come.
Anetta and Giselle stood before Cassandra’s bed. “I want to give you something to help escape what’s happening tonight. Will you take it?” Cassandra looked at the two little Maids. Anetta was clearly still shaken from her attack but nodded with faith, trusting her Mistress. Giselle had not experienced the prolonged relative kindness of Cassandra and was hesitant. At first she looked like she wouldn’t take the pill, but checked, looking nervously at Anetta. Anetta nodded, and reassured by her sister Maids Giselle complied. Both petite Maids reached in and took the pill. Cassandra laid out the blankets on the floor, side by side, but the Maids snuggled together on one in an innocent embrace. Cassandra covered them lightly in a sheet as it was a warm night and already could see the narcotic putting the little helpers to rest. Cassandra checked on Kaley. She was oblivious and Cassandra figured she would stay that way till her return to Lilianna’s form of bondage tomorrow. Cassandra walked across the room past the already sleeping Maids, and her pet to the window and looked out on the courtyard.
The view from the window matched any in the Estate save Gia’s office which over looked a hedge maze of rose bushes with rows towered by ceramic statues of submitting women. Cassandra had never really examined the window view. This was her first time here as anything other than a hostage. The courtyard it looked out on showed the front gate slightly askew, but the main grounds for entertainment could be seen. The courtyard center on the entrance to the dining hall. Platforms layered down the raised build that was the Estate House, subdividing into courtyards. The tennis courts and pool were on the angle Cassandra couldn’t see, but the layered partition now housed spits, structures like hangman’s stocks with hooks for butchering; pits with coals and little figures strapped to grates for grilling. The party had progressed onto dinner. The chorus of screams had subsided, but particular individuals had intensified. In the centre of what looked like a giant wok, and figure; howling in agony; tried to scramble out of the fry pan. The sides had obviously been grease and she kept sliding back into the boiling oil in the centre. Directly below her window on the flat between the right angle of two staircases, a man was flaying another Maid alive. Having removed all the skinning from her torso and extremities he was now slicing of slithers of flesh and placing them in a bowl to cook later. Cassandra had delved deeper into the world of the Society, but she did not like the mass snuff festival playing out outside her very window. She closed her curtains and walked over to the sleeping Kaley. Cassandra mounted the bed and snuggled up against her pet, meditating on the thought that if the training went well, Kaley would offer her body warmth without restraints someday. A thought only kind in comparison to the horrors outside.
Cassandra knew she was bad. She just preyed her indulgences would remain sophisticated and absent of perverse mania bought on by there repression.
Part 3. The First Day of Autumn
.
Introduction.
The breakfast table was in abrupt silence at Kimberly’s comment.
“Kimberly. Really?” Gia spoke authoritarian, but Cassandra knew she refrained from actually issuing Kimberly an order; largely she suspected out of respect for Komatsu.
“No, I want to know. Are you a lesbian Cassandra? If she’s to be my sister I think I should know. Does my husband have to be on guard?”
Komatsu smiled. A rare event and Cassandra could tell he dearly delighted in Kimberly’s mischief.
“We used to spend moments together Kimberly.” Gia stated, but added “Before you met Komatsu. Are you a lesbian?”
Komatsu took his hand from under the table and placed it on Kimberly’s arm. A simple gesture, but one that put the question to rest.
“Which brings me back to my question, Gia.” Kimberly teased out her former Mistresses name. She turned to Cassandra. “Are you a lesbian Cassy?”
Gia had attempted to direct the pressure away from Cassandra. Cassandra was a little unsure of what to say. To say no might offend Gia, who was her lover now; and she had Kaley as a pet of lust. She couldn’t say no, but the answer was in her mind no. She was not a lesbian.
“I knew it.” Kimberly ejaculated with a wild gesture of her arms. “You’re taking advantage of her Gia.”
“I am not Kimberly.” Gia said stern faced.
“You are. You always do this to pretty little things.” Kimberly seemed frustrated about something in the past Cassandra was not privy to.
Cassandra thought of something intelligent to say and said it. “My Mistress is a beautiful and intelligent woman, but she does not possess intellect and passions that I am unable to perceive. As her intern I am responsible for attending to her service in any capacity.”
“So you don’t like being intimate with your Mistress.” Kimberly said trying to get Cassandra in trouble, somehow playfully.
“I enjoy serving my Mistress in all capacities.” Cassandra smiled. “Should it be otherwise?”
“And that pretty little thing you handed over to Lilianna for training this morning?” Kimberly said referring to Kaley.
“Tantric food.” Cassandra quickly replied, her wit recovering the questioning of her sexuality.
Komatsu looked at Kimberly for an explanation English being his second language. “Tantric” Kimberly reiterated. “The anticipation is greater than the act.” Defined.
Komatsu nodded in understanding and then dipped his head to Cassandra in a show of respect.
Gia’s phone vibrated. It was a text that she didn’t need to read. “The new Maids have arrived. We’ll get them straight onto cleaning up last night’s mess. Breakfast is over. We’ve got guests checking out; guests checking in; and a shipment of fresh girls coming in from America later today. Everyone get to work.”
Chapter 1. Virgin Affairs.
Nolan Whithers had greasing, curly hair and acme. He wore thick glasses of the style of hipsters, but his lean bone structure did not lend him to the style. His father owned a small chunk of Silicon Valley and Nolan he spent hours on end in his room masturbating to Japanese cartoons.
“Virgin.” Kimberly said tossing the bio over to Cassandra’s pile. They were going through the files of arriving guests.
Cassandra sighed. “Why do I get the virgins?” She opened the page and realized Nolan was lucky his father had paid his way to the Estate. Well perhaps not lucky. The details the Society collected to make guests happy were often intrusive. She wondered how Nolan would feel if he knew that Cassandra was reading his blog posts about a Hentai cartoon called “Bible Black”. She frowned. “You live in Japan. What the fuck is Hentai anyway?”
“Guys who draw detailing of what we actually do.” Kimberly picked up the next dossier. I think it’s safe to say Nolan wants to try some pretty extreme stuff.”
“I’m the one with a conscience remember.” Cassandra said flicking through the pages. “Shouldn’t you deal with the perverts? You’re more mature in the art of torture and cannibalism.” Cassandra was cocky, but the pair had established banter; and it was a teasing one. Nolan had almost perfect marks in physics and math, but they were over shadowed by his teacher’s remarks on his art subjects. School reports were in the dossier.
“Conscience hey!” Kimberly looked at her sternly. “How’s training Kaley going. Do you still need to have her tortured, or is she eating your pussy of her own free will?”
“I have a condition.” Cassandra rebutted in reference to her libido.
“You have a libido and total power over, what I might say, is a very delicious looking woman.” Kimberly gathered the folders of the guests she would accommodate. This was usually done with great efficiency by Gia, but she was busy ordering everything from hitmen to soldiers for hire to solidify her position despite the wishes of the Government of the United States of America.
“You still haven’t told me why I get the virgins?”
Kimberly smiled. “Because you have the brains to stop them becoming the deviants who give us a bad reputation.” It was a complement.
Chapter 2. Goshe; awkward in the Company of Relaxed Sexuality.
It was obvious from the manner he sat that he was too nervous to enjoy the attention Cassandra had arranged for him. Earlier she’d Googled Hentai and found numerous illustrations of doll-like, big eyed girls in Maids costumes submitting to degrading sex acts almost joyfully. It seemed that the embodiment, the Estates new nymph Maids already at work dusting and straightening the room Cassandra and Nolan sat in. The effect was not excitement, but made him uncomfortable despite his fantasies.
Nolan had a repressed sexuality. Cassandra suspected his father had arranged for a visit to try and cure him of it. His father was known, despite dorkish features, for being one to indulge in co-eds and interns at his company. No doubt he had expectations that his son would overcome his awkward stage and become part of the nerd sheik of San Francisco.
“This will be more beneficial for you Nolan if you are honest with me.” Cassandra opened with. “My name is Cassandra, and I have been asked to ensure that you have a pleasant stay at the Estate.”
“Hi.” Nolan said, and went rigid as Florence, an Italian and rather curvaceous Maid, bent over to dust and vase by Nolan’s side. Here naked rear was clearly revealed and Nolan seemed ashamed to have seen her nudity beneath the flimsy Maids uniform.
“What kind of experience are you hoping to have here Nolan?” Cassandra asked. Despite her research Nolan may actually surprise her.
“You eat people don’t you?”
“We do. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to. Many of our guests just come here to live out their sexual fantasies.” Cassandra crossed her legs and lent into Nolan. It was deliberate body language to make him think she liked him. She hadn’t formed an opinion of him either way yet, but she had a job to do. “You seem shy, but if you could tell me about your fantasies, perhaps I could make them happen.” Nolan shifted with a nervous energy. It was part due to the Maids exiting; he was suddenly released from his prison of introversion. Cassandra had instructed them to be in the room only during the introduction to get a feel for Nolan. He pulled a sketch book out from under his arm. Cassandra moved chairs so she was sitting next to him to look at the sketches.
Nolan had drawn a series of anime drawings of girl like Maids restrained in various poses. Legs pulled up behind their heads; strung from a ceiling with their rears sticking out; even an amputee lying on a bed (Cassandra thought of Randy). The theme; totally vulnerable to whomever had them restrained. An ordinaries person’s reaction to the drawing would be to the perverted nature, but Cassandra having studied art under Dalton noted more; that he had not retraced lines to get the best fit, and that accurate expression of mood of the Maids was expressed. Nolan was a skilled artist, perhaps more gifted drawing than he was at Math and Physics. His gift, despite its perversion, illustrated and intelligent and emotive mind capable of capturing a pose of vulnerability. With training she knew he could capture and prolong that moment, but only with confidence. Cassandra flicked through other portraits. They were not all pictures of bondage, some were just drawings of characters Nolan had created; his dream women.
“Nolan.” Cassandra said putting the sketch book down. “I could let you pick a Maid from the Estate, and we could provide any devise you wished to restrain her; but if you’ll bear with me I’d like to make a suggestion.”
Being his first time Nolan was not aware that Cassandra was there to make any fantasy a reality like some of the other guests were, and so was open to compromise. He was not a demanding customer by nature of ignorance.
“What if you picked out a girl from those available, one close to these portraits without the bondage, and just spent some time talking to her; getting to know her; and then, spend the night with her.”
“What?.... No stuff?” Nolan said referring to bondage; torture; cannibalism; whatever was possible.
“If you wanted you could do the stuff another time.” Cassandra leant in as if she were giving secret council. “Sex sometimes isn’t what you expect it to be. Seeing someone you’ve selected in pain might make you feel like your bad, or feel that you can’t have sex any other way than by force.” It was a valid concern. The artwork of the girls Nolan had created were all sweet and innocent. Cassandra saw that there was a good chance he just wanted someone who wouldn’t, or wasn’t in a position to, judge him for being nervous and insecure the first time. Rather than replace those feelings by giving him absolute power, why not give him affection and understanding.
“But if I still want to eat them after, can I?” Nolan asked.
Cassandra suspected he was turned on by the notion. “Sure Nolan. Just try it my way first.”
“Ok.” Nolan said and seemed a little more comfortable. “When do I get to pick a girl?”
Cassandra picked up the phone by her side. The usual voice answered the Estates exchange. “Yes, Mistress Blake.”
“Have Lilianna line up the Maids in the courtyard. I have a gentleman who wishes to select one.”
“Of course Mistress Blake, let me check.” There was a moment’s pause. “Five minute Mistress Blake.”
Cassandra hung up the phone and a bell rang in the background moments later; Lilianna summoning the Maids for presentation. “Come on Nolan, let’s get you a companion.”
This was Cassandra’s first formal presentation of the Maid staff as a whole. The parade led by Lilianna moved up the stairs till they were lined up by the rose hedge maze. The Maids seemed nervous but had been trained that they were to speak only when spoken to and even then, only briefly. They stood at attention. Their uniforms were different. The skirt hems were higher and the uniform was absent of midriff. The v line of the collar was also lower to show of the more developed breasts of this year’s servants. All in all, they were scantly glad vixens.
“What do you think?” Cassandra said to Nolan. Cassandra thought these Maids were a refreshing change from the petite style. It felt wrong being served by something so child like. The Maids were voluptuous and curved with slender waists. They were more sexually appealing to the mainstream, but Cassandra’s curiosity was not in their body’s makeup. Cassandra knew that the generation’s mindset would be different as well as appearance. At this first impression it was impossible to judge if they shared the shy vulnerability Cassandra had felt the need to protect in Anetta. “May I?” Cassandra asked Nolan, partly to show him the Maids acquiescence and partly to learn for herself the mindset that would make up the norm this year.
Cassandra stepped forward till she faced one Maid in particular. She had an angelic face with a sharp jaw line and high cheek bones. She’d guessed the Maids had done each other’s hair and makeup for the day. Her breast, though not as large as some, were perfectly shaped. Cassandra noted this Maids was perhaps more beautiful than her. Cassandra smiled at the Maid. The Maid parroted the action, but seemed happy that Cassandra was taking an interest in her. Cassandra glided her hand to her face; felt her skin; pushed her hair back examine the side of her face covered by the shoulder length curled hair. The smile did not waver; the Maid was comfortable being touched. Now Cassandra glided three fingers gently over the Maids soft smooth skin moving to the centre as she past the breast the tested the Maids sensitivity. The Maid let out an acceptable sigh of pleasure. Cassandra continued past the belly, it twitched; ticklish (Cassandra thought of food, but was researching). Final Cassandra’s fingers reached the Maids sex and gently probed. The smile on the Maids face grew and her posture waivered to increase the pleasure Cassandra applied.
Cassandra removed her hand. “Good girl.” She said and smiled again at the Maid.
As she walked back to Nolan she could see the bulge in the crotch of his dress pants. “They’re all so eager.”
“I know.” Cassandra conceded. She was being professional but allowed some mock excitement to show to encourage Nolan. They had two extra Maids, accounting for the natural attrition through Lilianna’s discipline. “Last year’s might have been more to your liking. They were…. Innocent.” Cassandra made a mental note to keep Anetta and Giselle away from Nolan should he turn. “Would you like to pick one?”
Nolan blushed.
Cassandra smiled. “Take your time. You only get one.”
Nolan stepped forward. Lilianna took a few steps back signify to the Maids that they were under Nolan’s scrutiny. He was too nervous to pry at the Maids like cattle but he started with their faces. He walked down the line, seeming to have an interest in the Maid’s necklines. He seemed to be looking at the way the neckline met the collar bones rather than ogling their breasts. Cassandra noted he passed quickly by the ebony, Asian, middle-eastern and redheaded Maids, he seemed interested more in the blondes.
“Your first time should be special Nolan. Look at the Maids you like faces. Look at the way they react to you.” Cassandra spoke from her own experience with Kaley. Watching her graceful ballet teacher for months; wanting to have her confidence of poise at her command. What little she knew of her assignments duties told her, and for her own mindset she wanted, Nolan to have a pleasant consensual experience for his first time.
Nolan, naive and not tainted by the control he would soon have over women, listened to Cassandra’s advice. He past a Maid and she giggled. Nolan stopped dead in his tracks and blushed, his voyeurism attacked. The Maid must have known this man didn’t command the power of punishment. Nolan glared at the Maid and she giggled some more. Nolan clearly believed the Maid was mocking him. Cassandra new this generation of Maids were raised to be eager for sex. Breaking ranks and protocol the Maid reached out and grabbed Nolan’s hand. Slowly she guided it under her flimsy skirt letting him touch her, replicating what Cassandra had just done to her sister Maid.
“Eeeer.” Nolan said panicking.
The Maid just smiled.
“It might be easier if you just relax Nolan. It seems this Maids wishes to share herself with you.” Cassandra realized had Lilianna been in control of the situation the Maid might have been sentenced to the kitchen for such baldness, definitely she would have made note of it. “Do you like this Maid Nolan.?”
Nolan starred into the smiling face of the Maid. Blond, not the most beautiful but larger breasted than most, but she had an eagerness to serve.
Cassandra approached Nolan, his hand still touching the Maid. She whispered in his ear. “This one will guide you and like you.”
They were the magic words. Nolan nodded; a signal he would take this Maid.
The Maid seemed over joyed and Cassandra signaled for the Maid to break ranks and follow her. Nolan, like a dog on a leash also followed. Cassandra merely moved them away from the line up of Maids. As they drew away Lilianna clapped her hands and the Maids dispersed, back to their duties. Cassandra led the matched couple up into the Estate House and along a hallway of guest’s rooms till she came to Nolan’s.
“Your things have been placed inside. You can retire now or take young….” Cassandra turned to the Maid, not knowing her name.
“Rachael.” The Maid submitted.
“You can retire with Rachael now, or perhaps view the grounds. The choice is yours. She will follow you dutifully and obey ANY command.” Cassandra smiled, Nolan could figure out the rest.
Nolan fumbled for the door. “Thank you.” He said, obviously eager to get Rachael in the room.
“If you require anything, please call for me.” Cassandra dipped her head and took her leave. She had almost two hours before she had to attend to her next guest and she was eager to visit Kaley, but had no idea what Lilianna had done with her. Naturally as the question was raised in her mind Lilianna appeared. Like Gia, Lilianna seemed to know everything she was thinking, but Lilianna lacked liberty from the Estate grounds.
“You’re pet is hanging in the slaughter house.” Lilianna said, answering the unasked question. “I thought seeing what could happen to her might be more beneficial than torture.” Lilianna had fallen into step with Cassandra. “And I’m so busy with the new Maids.”
“Anything I can help with.” Cassandra offered picking up on Lilianna’s eluded request for assistance.
“They just need to become aware of their new space. Soon it will be like clockwork.” Lilianna paused.
Cassandra stopped with her; a fumble, Lilianna was assuming control of the conversation. This meant she wanted something, and also she saw Cassandra as amenable to granting requests. “I need a doctor to check my condition.” She said referring to her pregnancy.
“Of course. What do we usually do with the breeders in the stable?” Cassandra didn’t know.
“We have a midwife, but not the technology of the Outside.” Despite being privy to the administration of the breeding program Lilianna was not satisfied with it when it came to her pregnancy.
“Free up your time. I’ll arrange for Charles drive you to a hospital inland.” Cassandra smiled. Things were going well with Lilianna; she wanted to keep it that way.
Lilianna was concerned. “I don’t exist.” She stressed by her tone her inability to interact with the outside world. It may have even trouble her slightly.
Cassandra wondered if there was perhaps more to it. Was Lilianna afraid of the outside world? “Which would you prefer; an upgrade of our facilities; or an identity?”
Lilianna stuttered. Liberty had just been offered without condition or caution. Now Cassandra was back in control of the conversation. Lilianna was stifled. She was afraid to leave the Estate, but brave enough to demand care above that of the breeders; an interesting mix of arrogance and vulnerability. Cassandra saw the reason she failed Geppetto’s plan to usurp Gia. “Improved facilities.” She said composing herself. “It will be better in the long run for all.”
“I’ll see to it Lilianna.” Cassandra said a smiled. “I have a friend who’s going to be a very skilled Surgeon.” She referred to Randy. A simple phone call and he would fill her in on all they required to give Lilianna what she desired, and update the care of the breeders.
Lilianna was obliged. She had gotten what she wanted. “You should go to the slaughter house. Your pet will be most grateful to be taken from there.”
Chapter 3. Slaughterhouse Blues.
Cassandra knew the grounds but had never been in the slaughterhouse before. The breeding stables had the feel of stables; the milking barn had the feel of a barn, they were both designed to dehumanize their occupants. The slaughterhouse looked like a Southern Roadhouse bar a trucker might stop at for a meal. Cassandra didn’t knock she just pushed open the door. Most doors at the Estate were double doors, wide entrances welcoming admittance. The slaughterhouse had a solid freshly painted red door with a brass handle and a bell rang when it opened like seldom visited shop.
“Mistress Blake.” A male servant younger than Tomas and Asian, but with a similar role rose from his seat. The front room of the slaughter house looked like the exterior would suggest, like a Roadhouse. Wooden chairs surrounding tables and a bar with top shelf spirits behind it. Cassandra suspected that it was where the guests met before selecting their meals. The servant was on hand to oversea the area; he obviously wasn’t expecting guests at this time. Bluegrass blues could be heard from a back room.
“I’m sorry; I don’t know your name?” Cassandra said politely. The servant seemed taken aback. Cassandra was not like Gia, Lilianna, or Kimberly in the manner she interacted with the Servants. It was deliberate; she wanted to be seen as something different; perhaps allowing her a privy to workings and culture the elite sailed upon without notice.
“Bryce.” The servant replied and stood to attention, perhaps worried he was being audited.
“Relax Bryce. I’m just here to collect my pet.”
Bryce smiled as if remembering something funny that had happened. Perhaps Kaley being witness to the happening in the slaughterhouse was a novel event. “Most don’t leave after seeing what she’s seen.” Bryce said. “Unless they’re headed for the oven.” Bryce was easily relaxed by Cassandra’s casual approach to him. Whatever extremes happened in the slaughterhouse it had obviously warped his sensibilities.
“May I see?” Cassandra said.
“Of course.” Bryce hurried pasted the furniture that also served as a recreation area (sort of an office tea room) for the slaughterhouse workers to a back door and opened it.
Cassandra wished she’d not worn her new shoes. The Bluegrass Blues sounded from a tinny radio. Blood rippled across the concrete killing floor into an inadequate drain with her first footsteps. Cassandra looked past the fat man in plastic overalls carving at a corpse to the isolated figure that hung covered in blood in the splash zone of the butchering. Cassandra could tell by the look in Kaley’s desperate eyes that she was prepared to do anything to get out of that room. Perfect.
Bryce came to her side. “We took one of the cattle to stock up on bacon, sausage meat, and mince for the breakfast menus. Lilianna said to keep her nice a close to the action so she could get a good idea of what she is now.” Bryce was smiling. “She screamed herself silent when we started. Hendrix a real artist, he can keep the cattle alive by cutting around the arteries, but when the time came she got painted.” Bryce boasted his busy colleague’s skill. “Hendrix made it clear what we do with cattle.”
Hendrix must love his work, he did not stop to acknowledge Cassandra but continue to harvest from the corpse of the woman hanging from a meat hook, the only indication it was once a woman were the two breasts that hung; once beautiful.
“Tonight Lilianna’s going to come down and select a dozen to line up on the row of meat hooks back there.” Bryce pointed to a row of hooks at the back of the killing floor in front of three evenly spaced solid steel doors. He was explaining the workings of the slaughterhouse. Cassandra guess they were entrances to long cell blocks housing the abducted girls that became the Estates exquisite meals. “The guests come and pick the ones they want.”
Cassandra gave Bryce her politicians smile. He was dim enough to buy that she appreciated the details he was going through. “Could you bring my pet to me please?”
Bryce, remembering he was a servant, nodded and walked towards Kaley.
Kaley hung from shackled wrists from a meat hook. She was painted red from the blood of Hendrix’s victim, but the desperate shock in her face told Cassandra she was now abundantly aware that the torture of Lilianna was not the worst thing that happened in her new found prison. She cried out as Bryce fumbled with the shackles. Her body slumped as her suspension was released. She fought Bryce’s guidance, but weakly, aware of what angering him result in. It was a wrongly directed concern, Cassandra or was the only one who could make the sentence Kaley now feared.
As Bryce led her humbled stance to Cassandra, the Mistress grew serious. “You understand where you are now?” She asked.
Kaley couldn’t answer but eyed Cassandra with terror.
“Obey, and you will never have to come back here. I’m going to take you from here, but you’ll have to trust me.” Cassandra spoke softly, but with sincerity.
There was a long pause. Kaley realized she had to respond to move away from this place. She nodded, not willing to speak.
Cassandra didn’t push for verbal confirmation. “Come on. Let’s get you somewhere safe. If you behave you won’t have to deal with Lilianna anymore.” Cassandra turned and started to walk out of the slaughterhouse. After a moment Kaley realized escape meant following and hurried up to walk embarrassesed and vulnerable in her nudity behind Cassandra. Cassandra, a novice, didn’t realize that she had succeeded in the early stages of gaining the submissive obedience of a human being; dehumanization, with reprieve upon acquiescence.
Kaley followed briskly exposed and covered in death. Cassandra noted her urgency and gifted her a fast pace. “Come on.” She said as if her pet’s needs were a priority in any sense. Cassandra ran across the grounds to the entrance of the Estate House closest to her room. Kaley ran weeping behind her. Without a care, Kaley hastened through Cassandra’s door and sought shelter in the room she had been raped in last night. The extreme of Cassandra’s act diluted by the horrors of the slaughterhouse. Cassandra shut her door and allowed herself a smile of satisfaction, hiding it, she turned to face Kaley.
The gorgeous blond stood, knees bent in the centre of the room one arm over her breasts, the other covering her sex. Cassandra took a step towards her. Kaley cowered and cried out in horror. The isolation in the room was making her feel vulnerable. Cassandra noted that human psychology was strange that vulnerability still played a role when it had been made clear to Kaley that the stakes were very high by what she had witness this morning.
“Come. Let’s get the blood off you.” Cassandra gestured to the door, obviously to her adjoining ensuite.
Kaley wavered. She wanted to move but was afraid. “Are you going to kill me?” It must have taken all the courage Kaley had left to ask. She was both desperate for answer, but terrified that she might be sentenced.
“No. I want to keep you.” Cassandra said.
“Keep me?” Kaley shook as she spoke. The climate was mild; she was chilled by fear, or perhaps a pause in the release of adrenaline.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I own. I want to take care of you.” Cassandra stared, not with affection, but with lust into her former ballet teacher’s eyes.
“You can’t own a person!” Kaley said, not in challenge; she was too afraid for that, but out of a remnant value from her past life.
“Yes you can Kaley. Come on. Let’s get you clean.” Cassandra gestured again to the ensuite and Kaley took slight steps towards it. She had a mild panic attack when she realized Cassandra was following, but the prospect of being watched when she showered was mild in comparison to the desire to remove the horrors that had been painted on her body. Kaley perhaps would have protested if she’d realized Cassandra would be doing the washing. As it stood Cassandra slowly stripping and stepping in the shower happened in stages, gentle steps in an act of intimacy accepted under fear of losing the only protection Kaley had.
The warm flowing water concealed how wet Cassandra’s pussy was at the act of washing her pet. She did not scrub away the dried blood, but removed it by gentle strokes that loosened and diluted the blood. Kaley, both safe and in the process of an indecent act cried softly.
“Stop crying.” Cassandra said gently.
Kaley didn’t waver in her grief at her situation.
Cassandra paused from cleaning her. She rose and grabbed the back of Kaley’s head. Her arms came up in protest. “Don’t challenge me.” Cassandra said firmly. “I’m the person you want to deal with.”
A desperate reality.
Kaley’s arms dropped from their defensive position. Cassandra stared intently into her eyes and again in a calm and reasonable voice said with compromise. “If you can, please stop crying.”
The free Kaley who taught Harvard’s elite dances ballet wouldn’t have understood why the woman in the shower did her best to stop crying at the request. Cassandra resumed the slow cleaning of her pet, delighting in gliding the loafer over her firm and perfect flesh. When she was clean Cassandra stepped back and admired her.
“Ok rinse.” Cassandra stepped out of the shower and Kaley lunged under the centre of the flow as if trying to wash away the trauma. “Turn off the water and come out to dry.” Once one request had been met, simple instruction seemed easy to follow without repercussion. Cassandra handed Kaley a towel. When the ballet teacher was finished she covered herself with the white towel. Cassandra reached in to a slight jerk of fear and pulled the towel away, at first seemingly to expose Kaley again, but then the explanation that Cassandra need to dry herself was offered by way of Cassandra’s actions. Kaley was naked and vulnerable. Cassandra knew what to do next. “I’ll send for my Maids. She will find you some clothes and tend to you.” Cassandra walked naked to the exit of her ensuite. Kaley didn’t move. “My Maids are the only other people who will not hurt you. Do not hurt them in an act to seek freedom.” Kaley slowly followed Cassandra back into the bedroom. Cassandra slipped back into her clothes before picking u the phone and summoning her Maids to tend to Kaley. “They will bring you food, drink clothing, and anything you desire for entertainment.” Cassandra was now acting all business. It was not all an act too; she had to get back to work. Once dressed she put her hair in the usual ponytail that signified she had not been made up by Anetta and moved to the bedroom door. As Cassandra reached it she turned. Kaley stood covering herself in the centre of the room. “I’m leaving the door unlocked. Make any attempt to leave and you will find yourself in Lilianna’s hands again.” Cassandra smiled. “Be nice to the Maids, remember, they’re the only other ones who can help you.”
Kaley stood naked conquered. Cassandra was confident in her obedience. But the interaction had not only affected Kaley, Cassandra’s libido had been awakened. She headed for the tearoom she and Kimberly used as an office. On the way she had past Anetta and Giselle with a tray of food and some clothing for Kaley. She smiled at her obedient little friends. Their faces mirrored the happy exchange. Kimberly was waiting for her in the room. “Nearly late.” She said and presented the bio on her next client. “This one should be easy for you.”
Easy normally. But Cassandra felt an overpower urge to get off. Geppetto’s curse. She fought it back and opened the bio. She remained silent for a moment as she looked at the client.
“Problem.” Kimberly asked observing Cassandra’s reaction.
“No.” Cassandra replied a smile coming to her face.
“Good. Gia specified you were to handle this one.” Kimberly collected her things and waving her next load of work made her way out of the room. “Mush, mush. He’s waiting in the dining hall.” Kimberly said urging her sister to work.
Cassandra followed her out and head to the dining hall. As she entered the familiar over done handsome figure of Randy Kennedy turned and smiled at her. His arms opened to hug Cassandra. Cassandra smiled and met the embrace. As they hugged she kissed him on the check and whispered in his ear. “This is hard to explain, but I really need you to fuck me senseless.”
“What!” Randy went rigid at the surprise request. His playboy nature called into question by the demand.
Cassandra stepped back arms still around Randy’s waist. “Sex Randy. Right now.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him away from his luggage to towards his room. “Come, come Randy; sooner rather than later.”
Chapter 4. Pillow talk.
Randy had climaxed two minutes ago. Cassandra, like she had been trained by Gia, kept going until she was done. This bought some surprise and discomfort to Randy who usually dominated in the bedroom; but Cassandra was on top. She sighed in orgasm and roll of to her friend’s side. She allowed herself a moment to breathe deeply. “Again.”
“What?!” Randy almost sounded almost scared.
“Again.” Cassandra prepared to mount the quarterback but his powerful arms lifted off back to his side.
“I’m going to need…. Like an hour before I’ll have anything more to offer.” Randy was more sexually experienced than Cassandra and still seemed at a loss to sate her appetite.
Cassandra closed her eyes. She’d only been living with her new libido a short time but its gentle nagging seemed to have relaxed. “Ok. I can probably make do.” She rested on her back for a while.
“So Geppetto stung you with a wasp?” Randy said seeking confirmation of the explanation for Cassandra’s insistence of sex, given during the act.
“Yep.”
Randy rollover and looked at her vagina. He’d seen Cassandra naked before when he’d rescued her from being cooked. “It is bigger.” He said examining her clitoris. “And you crave sex?”
“Yep.”
“Doesn’t sound like a handicap really?” Randy said.
“Maybe not to a guy, but when it gets in the way of fore filling my Society obligations, it’s kind of a drawback. I’m afraid, Dr. Kennedy; you’ll have to be on call 24/7.” She smiled at Randy.
Randy smiled. “Will Gia mind?”
“She might.” Cassandra said truthfully.
“I should probably ask her permission.” He said.
“It’s probably for the best.” Cassandra sat up. “So! Guest of the Estate. How may I serve you?” Cassandra placed her fingers around Randy’s shaft and gently pumped it. It was going flaccid, but the stimulation would please.
Randy smiled, “That’s right; you have to attend to my needs.”
“Only if you attend to mine.” Cassandra said and tugged a little roughly.
“Didn’t I just do that?” Randy didn’t rise but kissed Cassandra on the shoulder.
“I need a list of everything we need to make the breeding stables state of the art.” Cassandra took the opportunity of Randy’s arrival to get what Lilianna needed.
“Ok.”
“And I need you to back of your pursuit of Lilianna this year. She’s off limits.” Cassandra looked at Randy sternly. She knew Randy had wanted to get Lilianna on his operating table for years. She was making it clear their friendship didn’t give him access to her.
“Ok. What do I get?” Randy said.
“Go to the slaughterhouse and pick out any girl you want to play doctor with. You can have as many as you like free of charge.” It was a generous offer, but in reality Randy strived to keep his patients alive for as long as possible. Cassandra knew she wasn’t sacrificing many lives.
“Anything else.” Randy prompted trying to sweeten his deal.
“If it’s ok with Gia you can have me as a girlfriend.” Cassandra was working a rhythm on Randy’s flaccid member. She could feel the pulse in it strengthening.
“I’m kind of a playboy.” Randy said. “I really just want to keep my options open.”
“No. You need a girlfriend. It’s time to grow up.” The pulse grew stronger; there was an influx of blood to Randy’s penis. He liked the idea despite how he acted.
“Will definitely have to run that by Gia.” He said almost ready for another bout.
“Ask; and share. Remember she owns me.”
The suggestion of Cassandra’s bondage and the lesbian encounters had Randy ready for action immediately.
“I thought you needed an hour?” Cassandra asked playfully.
Randy dropped the casual act and pounced for Cassandra, determined to be on top this time.
Cassandra had gained so much from a minute of conversation, she permitted it.
Chapter 5. Experimental Stage.
The third shower for the day in Randy’s room meant that Cassandra needed Anetta to attend to her appearance again. Randy had fallen asleep. Cassandra had worn him out. As she entered her room to meet her little friend she saw Giselle lying confidently on her bed. She was reading, showing more enjoyment in the past time already than Anetta ever had. The fact that she now felt comfortable to occupying Cassandra personal space meant the horrors of the harvest had not scared her psyche against her. She smiled at her. Giselle smiled back briefly, and then turned back to her book. Anetta had taught her liberties faster than Cassandra had taught Anetta; proof that training from Society servants worked better on Society servants than any outside influence. Cassandra briefly pondered what influence she could have over the Estate now that she had Lilianna on side.
Anetta waited by her Station. Cassandra stole a look to the corner. Kaley was dress in tracksuit pants and a cardigan. She was curled up in the corner of the room. A tray of food was before her and Cassandra was relieved to see the she had eaten most of it. It had perhaps been some time since she’d been offered nourishment. Cassandra sat and Anetta set straight to work.
“How are you finding things now that we’re back?” Cassandra asked. She hadn’t had much time with Anetta since their return.
“Too many people.” Anetta said.
“You prefer our quiet little house?”
“Yes. I miss TV.” Anetta began cleaning of the blemished makeup she’d applied this morning.
“I get one for you for your room. You can show Giselle.” Cassandra wanted nothing other than to give Anetta more. The attention Anetta gave to every detail of Cassandra’s appearance was the safest form of affection available in this Estate. Despite her status as servant, it was an act of free choice for Anetta. “I’ve got some news. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but there was a man here who owns a salon in France. You could go work for him for some time and perhaps learn, and practice what you know.”
“Away from the Estate?” Anetta asked.
“Yes.”
“Could Giselle come?” Anetta questioned.
“Not this time. But if it works, perhaps in the future.” Cassandra secretly wanted Anetta to take this opportunity. Though she felt certain Anetta would be watched if given liberty to enter the outside world it was the first step to her emancipation. If it was what Anetta wanted, she could pull Giselle out with herself. The trick was making Anetta want freedom.
“Ok.”
“Ok?! I can tell Gia to set it up?”
“Yes.” Anetta said.
“Awesome.” Cassandra said out of character.
Swift of hand Anetta finalized Cassandra’s natural look. “Done.” She said, issuing a mini order for Cassandra to stand up.
As Cassandra rose she hugged Anetta. “Give Kaley her space. She needs time to recover. She’s not used to this place.” Cassandra smiled again at her little friend and made her way to check if Nolan Whither's was a man yet. Cassandra picked up the phone by her bed.
“Yes Mistress Blake?”
“Where is Nolan Whither's?” As Cassandra asked she scanned the ceiling of her room looking for a camera. The person on the other end of the phone had eyes everywhere, perhaps on her.
The voice took only a brief second to come back. “The guest Nolan Whithers is by the pool with the Maid Rachael.”
“Thank you.” Cassandra hung up the phone. She pulled a funny face at Anetta and said “Duty calls.”
“Bye.” Anetta chirped and set about straightening up the room. The two little Maids would stay in the room to keep an eye on Kaley until their Mistress returned.
Cassandra found Nolan sitting legs folded by the side of the pool. Rachael the busty blond Maid was between him and the water, her top of; healthy breasts exposed. Nolan was busy sketching out a drawing, his first time lover acting as his muse. “How was it Nolan?” Cassandra asked approaching the guest from the side.
Nolan turned with a grin on his face; his movements had temporarily lost their jerky nature and taken on an exaggerated swagger. “She bled, but she knew what she was doing.” Crude and to the point, Nolan realized he should have phrased it differently. “Rachael was very kind and generous.” He corrected.
“I’m glad.” Cassandra said and smiled.
“Could I try some other stuff?” Nolan asked.
“Of course.” Cassandra said. She was obligated to attend to Nolan even if he turned on his first love.
“Not with Rachael, but with someone else.” Nolan stressed.
Cassandra deduced that timing and tact wasn’t things Nolan was gifted with. He’d already miss-represented his lover and implied she experience ordeals. “What would you like to do Nolan?”
“I would like to torture someone please.” The words sounded comical in the manner they were presented. “And then eat someone.” Nolan paused awkwardly. “Not Rachael. Neither with Rachael.”
Cassandra smiled. Nolan was not an unappreciative sociopath despite his intent to commit a violent assault and homicide. It was a strange world were that was the best possible outcome. “Ok Nolan. Let’s send Rachael back to her duties and I’ll take you to someone you can torture.” Nolan had graduated from his virginity into an experimental stage where he seemed interested in sampling the Societies options.
As Cassandra gestured to take Nolan on his adventure he tore the sheet of paper he had been sketching and handed to Rachael who was replacing her top. The Maid smiled in delight as she was handed her anime incarnation on paper and rushed in and kissed Nolan, who probably had never had that type of attention from a beautiful girl before. Cassandra nodded for Rachael to move on and the Maid obeyed taking care to take her portrait with her.
Nolan watched as she slipped away. When she was gone he turned to Cassandra. “They’re going to kill her in a year aren’t they?”
“Unless she makes a mistake and is sentenced to the kitchen; yes.” Cassandra said honestly.
“I want to be the one who eats her. Make it quick.” Nolan it seemed had developed an affection.
“If that’s what you want Nolan. I’ll see it put in place.” Cassandra lifted her posture. “Come on. I’m going to introduce you to Rosalita. Anybody who’s anyone has torture Rosalita.”
Chapter 6. Rosalita Still Hanging.
As she stood in the stables Cassandra marveled she was still alive. “Nolan; this is Rosalita.” Cassandra presented the chained pain slave to Nolan. Rosalita cringed at the introduction. She had been moved off to the side and grown even skinnier, but Rosalita hung in silent terror at the realization the visitors had come to pay her the daily special attention. Rosalita didn’t beg for mercy anymore, she just prepared herself for the abuse; a look of a terror filled life panted on her face. Rosalita had given up on escape. Damage control, and drive to maintain her sanity were her priority; visible to even a novice of torturers like Cassandra.
“What do I do to her?” Nolan asked. Clearly he liked Rosalita’s psyche and her presentation. He eyed her naked body with more confidence now. He was not embarrassed she was helpless to his whims.
“Whatever you like. But Rosalita has been sentenced to a life of pain. No mortal wounds. No breaking her sanity. We have to keep her alive and healthy so she can go on suffering.” Cassandra stepped forward and ran her finger tips over Rosalita exposed belly. Her skin was firm from hunger and the scares from her ongoing abuse read like brail at the caress.
“What do most people do? I mean, what does she hate?” Nolan clearly understood that torture was psychological as well as physical.
“Two separate answers.” Cassandra went to the cabinet draw that hide the tools most frequently used in Rosalita’s punishment. “The needle is most popular, and very painful.” Cassandra spoke from experience at both ends of this simple metal tool. “But as you can see from the thin lines of scares meshed over her body; Rosalita is often cut. She fears that the most.” Cassandra removed the long scalpel from the draw and moved back to Nolan presenting it to him handle first. In her own hand she kept a long silver needle, the favorite of her Mistress. Cassandra knew that if Rosalita didn’t satisfy Nolan, that she knew exactly where to put the needle to persuade Rosalita to give Nolan his power trip.
Rosalita closed her eyes tightly and jostled her body. She was preparing for the onslaught.
Nolan approached her slowly and slower with the blade. He was targeting her hips; or lack off; Rosalita had been starved down to nothing, desperately accepted what human flesh she was offered for sustenance. To her credit, she had an unfortunate will to survive despite all hope being lost.
Nolan made is first cut and darted his head as Rosalita gritted her teeth and bore the suffering. A droplet started a trail of blood. “Too deep Nolan.” Cassandra corrected, she knew he would make the rookie mistake, but felt it best to teach him from experience. “Glide the blade gently over her skin; like paper cuts.” Nolan repeated the cut an inch above the last. His depth was good, the skin was sliced and tinted red, but no blood trickled out. “Perfect. Now cut at an angle, the more skin you cut, the more nerves you flare.” Nolan followed direction well. He made two more cuts in quick succession. Rosalita reacted but she was dealing with the pain. Cassandra saw a problem. “If I may have a moment with Rosalita, Nolan?” Nolan stepped back and Cassandra stepped forward. With a sharp jerk she stabbed the long thin needle she held into Rosalita’s left armpit. The brutal wound called Rosalita to cry out and she breathed, as she had learnt through trial, to control the sudden pain. “I don’t like this tolerating of the pain.” Cassandra said brutally and up close to Rosalita.
Rosalita eyed Cassandra fearfully.
“Scream for him. Let him know what he is doing or you’ll have to deal with me.” Cassandra pulled on the protruding needle like a joystick. Rosalita screamed despite herself. Cassandra pullout. “And after I’m done, I’ll have Lilianna give you a going over for impeding my work.”
Rosalita got the point. As Nolan stepped back into place to resume his education Rosalita made no attempts to hide her suffering. Moans, tears, a scream when Nolan got it just right. Rosalita gave Nolan a satisfying taste at the delights of power and the ability to grant mercy. Cassandra was glad to see that Nolan did grant mercy, but only after Rosalita had started to breakdown; maybe Seventy-five cuts later.
“I’m done.” Nolan said. Cassandra forcing Rosalita to let her mental defenses down meant the pain salve was worse off than a session with Lilianna.
“I have a little knowledge of the needle.” Cassandra confessed. “If you want to learn more I can arrange for someone more experienced to give you further advice.”
“I’d like that.” Nolan said. He clearly enjoyed power. “Maybe someone fresh next time.”
“If you like. Just be careful, you may actually feel bad when punishing an innocent.” Cassandra offered the council.
“This one’s not innocent?” Nolan asked.
“She was a reporter who infiltrated the Society and nearly exposed us.” Cassandra filled in Nolan on Rosalita’s tale as she placed the tools of torture back in there draw in the cabinet. “Rather than eat her they sentenced her to pain, and a long life of it. Rosalita is not allowed to die.”
Nolan looked at Rosalita with a little appreciation. “You’d think that’s what she wants most, but she tries to survive.”
“Psychology Nolan. At a base level Rosalita wants to live, even if her intellect tells her she should die.” Cassandra placed her arm around Nolan. She could see why he got such good marks; he was an excellent student of concept and technique. “Come on Nolan. Let go pick out your dinner.”
Their trip to the slaughterhouse had been intersected by an ebony Maid called Tricia with a softly spoken invitation to join Gia at her table this evening. Cassandra would have been dining with Gia anyway, but the invitation was presented to both her and Nolan. Cassandra turned a smiled to Nolan. “Have you met Gia?”
“No.” Nolan said. “Heard about her. She’s supposed to be pretty scary according to my Dad.”
Cassandra sighed. “She’s pretty, but she just wants to make her guest happy. The scary part only comes into it if you cross her.” Cassandra pointed her finger teasingly at Nolan, their relationship more relax after sharing Rosalita’s suffering. “Best behavior just to be safe.” She smile, knowing Nolan was in no danger and the newly ex-virgin and master of pain took his leave to change into dining clothes.
Chapter 7. The Captains Table.
“I see.” Gia said and looked sternly at Cassandra. “Thank you phrasing these as requests rather than demands; it has saved you a lesson.” Gia and Cassandra stood alone in the dining room next to their intended dinner. The reason for Gia’s strictness in tone was to prevent Cassandra from developing independence so quickly. Cassandra would be released into the world and freed from her bondage when Gia saw fit for it; Cassandra knew this. Cassandra had arrived early to make her two requests to Gia; firstly to upgrade the stables; secondly for permission to date Randy. Gia’s focus was not on Cassandra but the buxom blonde fastened by ropes at all fours. She was helpless and to be dinner. Gia played with her hair. The blonde, in her mid to late twenties pleaded softly. Gia instantly grew bored with the common placed nature of the pleas of her the dinner and turned back to Cassandra. “Yes to both, but do not rob me of my fun; have Randy come to me ask permission to bed my ward.” Gia smiled mischievously, not ignorant that the two had already been intimate, but tolerant. Naturally she would make Randy squirm for Cassandra’s affections.
“Thank you Mistress.” Cassandra said and took her leave to the House Keepers position. It was a deliberate act of contrition after Gia’s generosity to assume the role of servant until Lilianna arrived to relieve her.
“And you.” Gia turned her attention back to the blonde dinner. “Do you have any idea what we’re going to do to you?” Dinner looked scared, but from her expression it was obvious her fears ran short of the truth.
Cassandra pondered if any of the girls housed at the slaughterhouse knew the nature of their captivity until they were sentenced by appetite.
Kimberly arrived, Komatsu in hand. “Evening Gia.” She said smiling. Komatsu bowed. “I see dinner is here.”
With her fate outed the blonde dared a panicked look at Gia, whose smiled confirmed the unobvious fate. Dinner believed the sentence, but had difficulty in comprehending the thought to allow her to beg; instead she cringed in her restraints. Gia delighted in her vulnerability, a true Mistress.
“What’s with Cassy?” Kimberly said questioning Cassandra’s stance.
Cassandra stayed at attention.
“She’s sucking up to me.” Gia said with a smile and resumed fondling dinner. “Something you should have done in your time. It makes me happy to know she is prepared to work for privileges.”
Kimberly rolled her eyes, but didn’t proceed to argue like her body language indicated she wanted to.
Nolan stumbled into the room and looked nervous, though not as nervous as he did this morning. He was guided by Lilianna who Cassandra assumed had collected him to make sure he was not late, lost in the House of sin. As Nolan stood in the centre of the room Lilianna moved to Cassandra’s temporary station and the two changed over. Cassandra was now free to greet Nolan and commence introductions.
“Nolan. This is my Mistress Gia Eros.” Cassandra took Nolan over. Nolan was obviously attracted to Gia greatly as e fumbled the hand shake and blushed at Gia’s confident smile. “And these are Gia’s guests Kimberly and Komatsu.” Nolan hid his attraction to Kimberly. Komatsu’s penetrating acknowledgement of the boy showed some contempt for his obviously awkward social skills.
There was a designed silence in the room. After a pause Nolan broke it with nervous energy. “Is this the woman we’re going to eat?”
“The blonde struggled against her restraints and looked around the room for an ally, someone to grant mercy.
“Yes.” Gia said, taking control. “I thought we’d leave it up to you to pick how she would be prepared.”
“I… I….” Nolan didn’t know what to say.
Cassandra championed her charge. “Come Gia, Nolan doesn’t know his options. And there’s always the chance he may not wish to eat this one; or at all.”
Nolan seemed to relax a little knowing he was not being tested. “I would like to eat her; I just don’t know what the options are. I’m a little new to this.” Nolan shifted his stance and alternated between clutching his hands in front of him and letting them dangle.
“Of course Cassandra. We are making the boy nervous inviting him to the Captain table on his first time.” Gia assumed a less formidable pose.
“We can cook her anyway you like. Live is better though, and includes the oven; marinated over a spit; grilled; boiled in broth, oil; sushi, steamed, or any variation you can imagine. She can be butcher and cooked anyway you like if that is what you please, but we are all fans of the spectacle. A woman’s death should be an indulgence if it is to be beautiful.” Gia paused. “We can cook parts of her or all of her; you may want to keep parts of her alive to feed on tomorrow.”
Nolan was overwhelmed. “What would you prefer?” he finally asked Gia.
Gia knew he wanted to get off the hook of everyone’s expectations, she didn’t trail the boy. “I would like to give you a demonstration.” Gia strode over to the now terrified blonde. The blonde, perhaps unique in the absence of screaming or loud begging, twitched and struggled as Gia drew close and wrapped her arm around her. “I know you’re scared, and I know you want out of what’s about to happen; so I’m giving you a chance.” With her other hand Gia pulled a blue pill from the sash around her waist. “Take this pill, and you won’t have to do anything you don’t what to.” Gia smiled allowing the blonde to see her attraction for her. Gia had selected this one to her tastes as well as Nolan’s. “Will you take it?”
“What is it?” Came a fearful voice. Quiet unless tasked, obviously the motive for her predicament under Gia.
“It’s a blue pill. Nothing more. Just a pill.” Gia presented it and held it in front of the blonde’s lips. The blonde dinner took one look around the room, at the lack of mercy from anyone and opened her mouth. Gia smiled and gave her the pill. “You don’t need to be tied up anymore.” Gia said and started undoing the ropes.
Kimberly grew anxious and shift position. “Gia what are you doing?”
“Setting her free.” Gia said confidently.
Kimberly wasn’t satisfied. “Cornered cattle can be dangerous dear Mistress.” Komatsu shifted his stance now, bought to alert by Kimberly. Cassandra and Nolan were merely witnesses. Cassandra trusted Gia, and Nolan didn’t know what the hell was going on.
By the time the blonde was free the blue pill had taken affect. Liberated, but still under threat she retreated back in the room. “Stop.” Gia said. Surprisingly to everyone, though not using an authorative tone the blonde responded, furthermore at the instruction she seemed to calm. “Are you scared?”
“Yes.” The blonde confessed, though she was not acting scared.
Gia beckoned with her finger for the Blonde to approach.
She did.
Kimberly’s mouth dropped. “How are you doing……?”
Gia held up her finger to silence Kimberly. “I know you’re scared because we are going to eat you, but if you’ll just relax you’ll find that that’s what you really want too.” Gia put her arm around the blonde’s waist and started walking her to the patio doors. As she approached them two male servants on the other side opened them to reveal a giant hollow bronze bull in front of a peer of fire. “You want to give us what we want, don’t you?”
The Blonde seemed confused but calmly kept walking towards the Brazen Bull. It was an ancient Greek torture device, but Cassandra could compared how it would easily bake the helpless blonde who seemed unalarmed by how easily the bull could be pushed back over the fire behind it. “Yes.”
“You want to make me happy.” Gia walked the blonde right up to the bull.
“I think…. I think I do.” The blonde now completely relaxed, as if only the vexation of not knowing how to please her murderers was her only problem.
“Be a dear and get in the bull for me.” Gia smiled and kissed the blonde dinner on her cheek.
The blonde blushed and began to climb in the bronze bull, to be sealed in by Gia once helpless inside. Gia stepped back; the male servants stepped forward and pushed the bull back over the fire.
“What the fuck!” Kimberly said in disbelief.
Cassandra realized the pill worked as some kind of hypnotic aid, or brainwasher.
Gia strolled over to Nolan. “If you could have total control over any woman, who would it be?”
“My Specialist Math Teacher.” Nolan said, unsure of what to make of what he had just witnessed.
“Is she beautiful?” Gia asked playfully
“Yes.” Nolan admitted, not worried about reveling crushes or being judged.
“But that’s not why you want to control her is it?” Gia knew Nolan’s mind. Boys all thought the same, and geeks all had the same design.
“She gave me a B minus.” Nolan seemed angry. Nolan wanted power.
“Give her this pill. Slip it into a drink, or trick her to take it; in thirty seconds all she will want in the world is for you to tell her what to do.” Gia handed over a small silver pill case. “The first one is free; the second will cost you Ten Thousand dollars US.” Gia smiled. Inside the bronze bull the metal had heated to the point the blondes muffled screams could be heard. She had started cooking.
“You never stopped to think things like this are the reason the NSA want you gone.” Kimberly said. Cassandra didn’t know if she was angry at being kept in the dark or angry because Gia demonstrate the ability to control anyone. “Presidents holiday here. What secrets might they tell if given one of those pills.”
Gia was not thrown. “What orders might they make whilst under my control.” She was relishing in her accomplishment. “What do you think Cassy?” Gia asked Cassandra.
Cassandra smiled to both Kimberly and Gia. “This is a conversation for another time I feel.” She walked towards Nolan how was passionately grasping his pill case. “This is Nolan’s first meal. The mood should be lighter.” Cassandra had many questions, but the nature of all of them told her they were best reserved for a private audience.
Kimberly seemed to pick up on Cassandra’s reservations. “Quiet right little sister. Another dinner’s conversation.”
The screams were becoming more intense. The blonde had reached the point in cooking were she could feel everything and escape nothing. “A shame we can’t watch her suffer, but rest assured Nolan; she’s having the experience of her life.” Gia sat them down and began an anecdote about a Chinese diplomat; any intelligence agency in the world would have like to be privy to the information that Gia used as pre-dinner conversation.
The curvy blonde lay helpless on her back, paralysis induced by cooked muscles; the beauty had been baled inside the bull. Once the bronze had heated it had been removed from the fire and she had been cooked at a gently cooling temperature till, once cooled, she could be safely removed from the Brazen Bull. She breathed shallowly and quickly. Gia sat at the head of the table watching the subtle expressions of the meal. Lilianna had stepped forward to carve. Nolan being the guest got first pick.
“Shoulder and arm.” He finally said, picking up on the pause. Lilianna tested the meat with the blade. The blonde was not cooked deeply so she carved shallowly from her shoulder and bicep. To Cassandra’s observations Nolan liked womens necklines and arms; his preference as an artist. The blonde watched; and Nolan watched; and Gia marveled at her pill at work.
“You want this.” Gia said sincerely to the dinner. “You really do.” It sounded as if it was something she had always wanted; willing meat.
Nolan served, Lilianna set about seeing to Gia and Nolan’s mouth dropped as he saw what selection she was having. Once Gia had been seen to Kimberly and Komatsu were served, then finally Cassandra claiming the delicate meat from her belly. The conversation was civil as they ate and did not pause as the dinner expired quietly as they bantered.
As the Maids appeared to clear the table Rachael was amongst them. She giggled and beamed a smile at Nolan. Gia picked up on the exchange.
“Rachael entertained Nolan this morning.” Cassandra filled her Mistress in.
“Really! Do you like her Nolan?” Gia asked.
“Very much so.” Nolan replied.
“Then please retire with her now. She may stay with you for the night.” Gia smiled and dismissed Nolan from the table.
Nolan rose. “Thank you for a delightful evening.” He said and mustered away, eager to get Rachael back to his room.
“Do you think Nolan will eat Rachael next Harvest?” Cassandra asked Gia after Nolan had left, seeking her experience.
“That will surprisingly be up to Rachael.” Gia said watching the pair make their way back to Nolan’s room. “If he is really special to her, Nolan will probably make an offer to emancipate her and keep her for himself. If every guest she entertains is treated the same way as he is, Nolan will feel cheated; and torture; and cook; and eat her.” Gia already had an understanding of her new Maids. Cassandra knew she wasn’t saying it, but chances were Nolan would feel cheated by the undemanding nature of Rachael’s affections and the ease at which they were offered to others. “But Nolan has not become a maniac Cassandra.” Gia complimented on Cassandra’s work. “Well done.”
“Yes, good job Cassy.” Kimberly followed with.
Cassandra dipped her head and smiled. Kimberly and Komatsu took their leave and left Cassandra with her Mistress.
“Now Cassy, a test.” Gia turned her attention to Cassandra. Their time in this room was short as the Estates servants gathered to finish of the meat of the blonde under Lilianna’s supervision.
“A test?” Cassandra queried.
“Yes. Punishable by a night on my cross if gotten wrong.” Gia smiled deviously at Cassandra. “Whom should you spend the night with? Randy or I?”
Cassandra’s eyes opened widely. Was it a trick? She stared at her Mistress gauging for the correct response, but Gia was on her game; she gave nothing away. “Ummm.” Cassandra verbalized, not sure what to say.
“Come, come Cassy your answer.” It was of course a trick. Gia was just on a power rush after testing her pill. No answer would result in Cassandra not being tested by her silver needle; the downside to being owned by a loving sadist.
Part 4. One Month into Autumn.
Chapter 1. A Particular Kind of Woman.
Don Mateus an elderly Portuguese man who had not suffered at the recent financial crisis that gripped his country was short, bearded, and portly. He wore a grey suit, unbuttoned, and his large gut hung in front of him. He had badly cratered skin and the blue veins on his red nose suggested he drank too much. He was accommodating that assumption with a brandy in his hand. It was only ten o’clock; morning tea time. “Where is Miss Eros?” He said. His English was perfect but his accent heavy.
Kimberly, being the senior of the two girls answered. “Our Mistress…”
Don Mateus interjected with a tut and a raised finger. He had not been introduced to Cassandra.
“Pardon me Don Mateus. This is Cassandra Blake. She is an intern to Mistress Eros as I once was. We are working together to help lighten Miss Eros’s load whilst she deals with some internal affairs of the Estate.”
Cassandra smiled. Gia’s latest internal struggle involved abducting the daughter of an intended rebel and offering her safe return for a concrete assurance of passive acceptance of her position. The daughter was in the process of being returned; minus a kidney.
Having accepted the introduction Don Mateus continued. “It doesn’t matter who I speak to. Something must be done. All you have are these American girls this year.”
Kimberly took lead again. “The Americans were by far the most popular last year, so we arranged to have more this year. If there perhaps another Nationality or ethnic type you would like I’m sure we can provide it in a timely manner?” Both Kimberly and Cassandra sat legs uncrossed facing Don Mateus. The man still didn’t seem satisfied.
“No; American; European; African. Who cares? I don’t want a girl. I want a woman!” He gestured with both arms, spilling some of his brandy, as if he was summoning a wave to come to him. Despite the fact that he would rape and torture the person he spoke of, Don Mateus was clearly not inclined to young women. It was a quality in a very strange way.
Cassandra, who despite being the junior, picked up on Don Mateus’s intent. “You don’t want an innocent Don. You want a woman who as some……invitation of our indulgences. Bad?!” Cassandra used the term “bad” as a test to further narrow the type he was after.
The Don chuckled. “As bad as you can get.” He said.
Kimberly stepped in with the follow up questions. “Blond; Brunette; Redhead.”
“Just bad. Strong body; angelic face; sin in her poise.” Portuguese translated to English is difficult as the romantic language lends to a more emotive description that English sometimes can’t pick up on.
“We will do our best. When would you like her by?” Kimberly asked rising indicating their meeting was finished. “Tomorrow morning. I want to spend all day on her before I eat her.”
Kimberly didn’t let the difficulty of the short timeframe show. She smiled. Cassandra rose and smiled as well. Both girls shook Don Mateus’s hand. The Portuguese usually kissed woman of both cheeks, but there position under Gia accorded them more reverence and the Don, though demanding, didn’t dare test his limits to service.
As he left the room Kimberly turned to Cassandra. “What do you think? Pretty Dominatrix!”
“I don’t know. Rock band groupie?”
Kimberly sighed. Her facial tick kicked in. She’d managed to repress it throughout the meeting. “I need a night out. Away from the cannibalism and the sexual torture, you know.”
Kimberly smiled at Cassandra and she felt genuine support from her pseudo sister.
“Let’s take the night off. We’ll hit a biker bar in Jerez. Pick up some two wheeler trash for the Don and have some fun.” She wasn’t showing neglect for her mission, she just seemed to want to have some fun with it.
“Do they even have biker bars in Spain?” Cassandra asked slightly surprised at the notion.
“On the coast.” Kimberly started walking out of the room. “And get your pet Kaley or that little Maid Giselle to get you off before we go. I don’t want to have to go down on you in a car park.” Kimberly turned her head and poked her tongue out at Cassandra as she left the room.
“Bitch.” Cassandra playfully said, but the point stood. Spending a couple of hours with Kaley couldn’t hurt.
Chapter 2. “En El Polo”
“En El Polo. I’ve heard that phrase before.” Cassandra said reading the neon sign above the coastal shack bar with dozens of American style bikes in front of it.
“It means, on the pole. It’s what they say to the spit muffins before they mount them for the gyro.” Kimberly answered casually, perfect comfortable with the act of murder in that manner.
Cassandra was less taken aback than she would have been before returning to the Estate. “Are we dress ok for this place?” She asked. She was wearing slashed jeans and a white sweater top that slightly revealed her belly and was loose around her neck, showing enough skin to catch the eye.
“You worried we’re gonna get raped or something?” Kimberly said in a fair more precarious little black dress. “This bar tailors to poser American bikers on holidays and local mechanics. Real bikers can’t afford a ticket to Spain, and don’t have passports.” She smiled at Cassandra. “We’ll be fine.”
“We’re going to get hit on.” Cassandra said, stating the obvious.
Kimberly knocked on the driver’s side window of the car they had been chauffeured in. Charles it seemed had a car on every continent and merely flew from one country to the next to drive Gia’s kin at her will. The car window came down with an electric hum. “Charles, Cassy’s worried about unwanted male attention. What are you carrying?”
“A Glock G31 in my vest, and a Thompson sub-machine gun under the dash.” He replied his face unexpressive as ever.
“Thompson?” Kimberly questioned distracted from Cassandra’s concerned. “Like in those old gangster movies?”
“Mistress Eros has a flair for antiquities.” He replied and pressed the button for the window to go up.
“Ok.” Cassandra conceded. “So we’re packing.”
The pair walked to the front door and had every slumming prep-boy-tourist; local greaser; and middle aged America wanna-be-biker on the veranda checking them out. Cat-calls and whistles, a couple of beckoning calls; not from the bolder men, but from the stupid who think women like them would come at a holler. Kimberly pushed the door open, a wry smile came on her face as she saw the splintered and worn wood panels and tables lacquered and chipped. At the back of the bar was a pathetic excuse for a stage with a striper’s pole shining over the dim lighting. Classic rock played, but it was not so loud to overpower the quests chatter. Everyman was looking at them as if they were meat; the irony being, they both nearly had been. “Cassy.” Kimberly paused as she turned to two open stools on the bar. “Let's get shitfaced.”
In America Cassandra was underage. Here in Spain, she didn’t even need to show ID. Not out of competition, but out of solidarity of spirit she slapped her hand on the bar twice. “Dos Tequilas ahora” she shouted and Kimberly laughed and seemed to relax that Cassandra was onboard. The pair were bound through Gia, but Cassandra did want someone in her life she could have; a counterpart to the strange bondage she lived in. And furthermore, Kimberly had broken free from it and made her own life. Luxuriating in Society life, but returning to Gia by choice.
The shots arrived. Kimberly raised the shot glass in a salute. “To sisters.”
Bam. They both slammed them down. Kimberly face was composed, her tick flinched, but otherwise she handled her liquor with ease.
Cassandra on the other hand was not used to spirits. She coughed and spluttered trying to catch her breath as the alcohol shocked her throat.
“A ha. Little Cassy talks a tough game, but can’t handle Tequila.” Kimberly took a mocking stern look. “You must be punished for your failure.” She slammed her hand on the bar. “Dos Tequila ahora.” Cassandra put her hand on her forearm to try and get her to slow down, but no sooner had she caught her breath than the next two shots came. Kimberly raised the glass again in salute. “To Mistresses.”
Bam. Cassandra nearly fell back off her chair. Kimberly laughed again, not the slightest phased by the spirit. She and Komatsu had sake for breakfast instead of coffee.
“Shit we’ve got to slow down.” Cassandra said looking down at the bar.
“Why Cassy? Afraid if you get drunk you’re gonna get horny.” Kimberly touched her exposed skin through the torn jeans. It was not sexual, if anything it was a reassurance Kimberly was looking out for her. Cassandra just had to choose to trust her.
“I’m afraid; we’ll get to drunk to find a woman for Don Mateus.” Cassandra straightened herself and turned to survey the bars occupants.
Kimberly was way ahead of her. “There’s a cute Redhead with the poser joke by the juke-box; too young.” Cassandra followed Kimberly’s direction. “Now, those two are biker chicks, but I think a little too old and they have the looks that they’ve picked something up from the experience that comes with age.” Cassandra shifted to the woman Kimberly referred to. One was attractive, but she had bad complexion at a late age; testimony to poor hygiene or perhaps confirmation of Kimberly’s subtle hint of an STD. So far it wasn’t going well. “The night is young. We’re early. Bad girls don’t come out till late.” Kimberly turned back to the bar. “Dos Tequila ahora.”
“Oh shit.” Said Cassandra and turned to drink with her sister.
Americans are viewed as arrogant in Europe and Cassandra expected an American tourist looking for a memorable night to be the first to hit on them; but the Spanish are bolder, and it wasn’t till the third local had been shot down, not even allowed to buy them a drink, that the Americans starting coming. To them, Cassandra learn, Kimberly was not polite. Once Cassandra even felt like apologizing for the harshness of a rebuke.
Some activity stirred behind them and they got a reprieve in advances. Cassandra was drunk; Kimberly was holding it together well. “How’d you meet Gia anyway?” Cassandra asked. It was the most obvious question she could ask her, but it had only occurred to her now.
Kimberly’s tick flinched. “I lived in Philadelphia. I went to a rave when I was twenty-one, took a pill of ecstasy; woke up hanging naked from a meat hook in a shipping container.”
Cassandra went ghostly pale. Cassandra had been saved from being eaten to get her internship, but Kimberly’s journey started much darker.
“After a boat ride I was delivered to the slaughterhouse where one by one the girls I’d been transported with were selected by a beautiful woman and disappeared. One day as she perused me I spat on her. She had me taken down and strapped to a cross in her room and tortured me with a needle for days till I had a nervous breakdown.” Cassandra didn’t know what to say. She’d been through a similar thing, less intense, but the edge of Kimberly’s voice hinted that she was still damaged by her early experience with Gia. “That’s how I developed my tick. Physiological manifestation of a nervous condition bought on by hours of unrelenting torture.” Kimberly touched the side of her face as if expecting it to fire at its mention. “Gia liked the way I suffered. And as you know, when you are dominated, and under total control, you fall in love with your torturer.”
“How long were you her pain slave?” Cassandra asked. As much as she loved Gia she felt great empathy for Kimberly’s journey.
“I don’t know, nearly all Autumn. But then rewards came for correct behavior, and submissively I obeyed. I studied; I learnt; and I evolved.” Kimberly realized that she had taken the story too dark. She straightened her neck and forced a little mood. “Something you have to watch out for as you train your Kaley, Cassandra.” Kimberly just slapped the bar; the bartender knew what they were drinking by now. “It goes both ways. As the slave falls in love with the Mistress; the Mistress falls in love with the slave.”
Cassandra was inebriated but the message was received. “It goes both ways.” She parroted, and the next day her sober mind would understand her Sister. Cassandra’s little epiphany was interrupted.
“It’s been a good three minutes sense we’ve been hit on. What’s going on?” Kimberly was showing signs of being drunk now too. She surveyed the room and with a gasp clutched at Cassandra. “Lookie here!”
Cassandra turned, woozily, to see a Spanish beauty dancing on the stage. Raven haired, dark gorgeous eyes; and a sinful, toned figure covered in tattoos and fishnet stockings. She didn’t dance on the pole, though she was fit enough to, but leant over a stool proudly displaying a tight, perfect rear. Her waist was narrow and in the pose she looked like a greyhound. “We found our woman.” Cassandra said, head swimming. “She looks bad.”
“I do want to punish her on sight.” Kimberly, suddenly sober on adrenaline turned to meet the bartender as he bought the shots. “Who’s that woman on stage?” She asked.
“Esmeralda!” The man said surprised. “She’s the reason everybody comes here. Bitch gets paid out of the bar till. Makes more than any of us for twenty minutes of dancing.” He left the drinks and stormed down the bar, clearly not a fan of the operator’s payroll distribution.
“Cassy.” Kimberly said pushing the two shots away.
“Yep.” Cassandra said, drunk.
“You’re the smart one. How the hell are we going to abduct Esmeralda?” Kimberly was all business.
Cassandra hic-upped. “Lap dance.” Cassandra was brilliant even under all kinds of pressure. A mind muddled by alcohol was far less limiting than someone asking you to give them a reason not to eat you.
“That would get us alone with her.” Kimberly conceded.
“Get a lap dance, take her out back.” Cassandra, beyond knowing her limits took the shot off the bar and drank it. It was easier to handle the drunker you were. Kimberly rose and approached a large man in a black t-shirt with black jeans by the side of the bar. Though she couldn’t see from her stool he had a name tag in English that said “Big Andy”. Big Andy was on hand to make sure no one tried to get up on stage with Esmeralda. Cassandra couldn’t hear what Kimberly was saying to the big man, but he shook his head. Kimberly took as step back and from her purse produced a wad of cash. She started counting out bills. Cassandra deduced that Esmeralda didn’t give lap dances, but Big Andy seemed to be coming on side as Kimberly continued to flick out notes. She held, what must have been 2000 Euro’s out to him.
Big Andy had been bought. He moved away from his position and closer to the edge of the stage. Esmeralda, not breaking from dance strutted over to him and leaned in. Big Andy whispered something to her and she looked at Kimberly. Kimberly fanned the cash and Esmeralda nodded to Big Andy who returned to Kimberly, who then in tandem came back to Cassandra. “We go out back when she finishes her show and she’ll give us a private dance.”
Cassandra’s head wavered from the Tequila. “Do you ever feel sorry for them Kimberly?” Cassandra asked, reflecting on what was about to happen.
“To get of Gia’s cross I had to stop thinking of people as people. We’re all just meat, and the biggest predator wins.”
Chapter 3. Is That Even Your Real Name?
Big Andy guided them back through the brown wooden door with a marbled window and clear sign that read “Privado”. It looked like the door to a detective agency from the noir films. Kimberly walked through first and Cassandra followed. Big Andy closed the door behind them leaving them to the stripper’s hospitality. Intuition told Cassandra that they were not worried about trouble with Esmeralda from two delicate girls, and Esmeralda didn’t seemed worried either. She smiled a vixen’s smile, but it had the hunger for the cash Kimberly had fanned behind it.
“You girls want a private dance?” Esmeralda said in the hallway.
“Sweaty” Kimberly said talking down to her. “We’re taking everything you have to offer.”
Esmeralda clearly liked being desired, and she clearly liked money. “I’m no whore, but, you add another ten bills to that cash fan of yours and you can touch whatever you want.” She turned and started walking down that hall. It became obvious there were no private rooms for lap dances. They were going to Esmeralda’s change room.
Cassandra was taking the back seat, but she could see Kimberly getting the lay out. A door with a green light above it saying “Salida” was just a few strides past the room they turned into. Esmeralda’s changing room consisted of a seat, a make-up bench and a large mirror. There was a wooden bar with hooks that her normal cloths hung from; nothing of interest. Esmeralda took her chair and placed it in the centre of the room and looked at Kimberly.
“Esmeralda?” Kimberly said calculating the distance from the changing room to the exit. “Is that even your real name?”
“Giving me a pet name means regular deposits.” Esmeralda took the cash from Kimberly’s hand.
Kimberly pulled out her phone and looked surprised as Esmeralda kept looking at her. “Oh.” She said. “The dance is for my friend. She’s shy, but she just wants to eat you up.” Kimberly was texting, and Cassandra knew it was to Charles, telling him to drive around the back door for an easy exit. As Cassandra took her seat, not sure how this would go down, Esmeralda provocatively started moving her hips from side to side. The only thing she wore was a satin g-string and the stripper shuffled forward, hops still motioning sideways.
“You want to see it now; or should I tease you first.” The Spanish accent was provocative to American ears.
Esmeralda’s eyes were convincing in seduction and it liberated Cassandra. “I want to bight your belly.” Cassandra said, partially because of the Tequila and partially because Esmeralda’s sleek stomach looked mouthwatering to her.
“Oooh. You don’t want to see my prize just yet.” Esmeralda hunched forward, mounting Cassandra so her naked breast were at head level. “Kiss me twice first.” She said, clearly requesting her nipple be sucked.
Cassandra complied, but in honesty her breast were ice cold. Esmeralda was acting a part, superbly, but her chest was not flushed with passion. It made Cassandra a little angry, and concreted a dark part of her that took new as Society she could take what she demanded. Were Esmeralda hers like Kaley, she would be punished for the lake of arousal. A realization. Esmeralda would be punished, and Esmeralda’s sexuality for sale suddenly seemed just cause to hand her over to the Don. Cassandra smiled and turned her gaze to Kimberly who nodded and started to shift into position behind Esmeralda. “Esmeralda. Is that even your real name.” Cassandra dressed the stripper.
“It is for you Blondie.” She replied playfully ignorant of the situation.
Cassandra had developed a sense of standing in the Estate and being called Blondie by a stripper vexed her slightly. “I’m going to ask for an invitation to eat you.” She said, and her face portrayed the confidence of her Mistresses.
Esmeralda clearly sought she meant Cunninglingus as stepped back, inches from Kimberly now situated behind her. “Touching only. I no whore……..”
Kimberly clamped one hand around her mouth and pushed her thumb into the soft spot between the base of the ear and the neck. Esmeralda’s eyes went wide and beautiful in shock and she struggled, but the blocking of the flow of blood to her brain quickly subdued her. “Why are people heavier unconscious?” Kimberly said as she lowered Esmeralda to the floor.
Cassandra was impressed, and after a moment’s reflection on how well Kimberly had taken down a woman equal to her weight she said. “Where do you guys learn that stuff?”
Kimberly smiled. “Cassy, you’ve got the brains, leave the martial arts to us hunters.”
Chapter 4. Anatomy of Rape.
“Magnifico.” Don Mateus circled Esmeralda as she hung from the centre of the room. Sin bound captive.
“Happy Don Mateus?” Kimberly asked, knowing the answer.
Esmeralda’s eyeliner ran down her face with her tears of fear, but the victim raged in a furious captivity. She spun around; contorted her muscles kicked at the out of reach Don as her circled her. She wouldn’t let him get behind her. She hung suspended on tip-toe from the roof of the brick building whose walls were lined with sex toys and devices to inflict pain from every empire and period... A furnace burned so ever item could be heated to add to its effect. The stripper was not gagged and a string of obscenities and threats in Spanish came in an angry determined tone. Her helplessness did not seem to have dawned on her. It was as if she believed her fury could keep what must have been evident at bay. Her muscles were taught, her skin clean, oiled and ready to be lashed. She darted her eyes between Kimberly and Cassandra cursing and crying.
She turned her anger to Don Mateus. “You’ll have more luck raping the virgin Mary.” She said in English.
“Very happy.” Don Mateus said, turning to smile at the girls as if Esmeralda’s performance was background noise; like a jukebox playing in a bar. “Will you lovely ladies join me for dinner tonight?” The Don asked jovially.
“I’m afraid my husband would be jealous if I dined with anyone but him.” Kimberly said and started moving to the exit. “But Cassandra will join you” Kimberly decided for her.
Cassandra despite her hesitation at Cannibalism knew the Estate was one giant social event, and eating of the captured meat was required. “I’d love to Don Mateus” she said, without a hint of the hesitation she felt.
“She likes bellies.” Kimberly added as the pair left the room. It signified the end of their duties and the beginning of Esmeralda’s true ordeal. As they left the room dedicated to torture Kimberly vocalized a musing thought. “I wonder how long it will take him?”
“What will take him?” Cassandra asked.
Kimberly stopped dead in her tracks. She took unclipped her necklace and pulled of her wedding ring. She thread the gold chain through the wedding ring so it dangled. “When a man has sex with a woman she submits.” Kimberly let the chain hang loose, holding the ring, and put her finger through the circumference. “Don Mateus’s will rape her. His game is beating the woman down.” Kimberly now held the end of the chain, the ring swung slightly. As she tried to place her finger through the dangling ring it was knocked from side to side indicating the difficulty of sex without submission. “The act of rape is achieved through strict restraint, inebriation, surrender through fear, or immobilization from injury.”
Cassandra had not thought on the matter. Her activities with Kaley had always been accommodated through Lilianna’s discipline; or the fear of Lilianna’s discipline. She knew what gratification she got from Kaley came from fear. “She’s going to fight.” Cassandra realized.
“She’ll loose. And when she does he’ll rape her and then eat her.” As Kimberly placed her jewelry back on Esmeralda’s first muffled scream filled the air, it was followed with more Spanish damning obscenities. “I’d have a snack something this afternoon. “You’re going to have a late dinner.”
Interlude to Chapter 5.
“This is becoming a real drag.” Randy had Cassandra pinned against the wall. He wasn’t intimidating her, just signifying he had some claim over her. He pulled her hands out to the side so she hung cruciform against the wall and leant in and claimed his kiss.
Cassandra had learnt she was a submissive, a clever one who got what she wanted, but a submissive none the less. As the prolong kiss parted she smiled at her boyfriend for the past month, and hopefully the distant future. “I have responsibilities to Gia. I have to entertain a guest tonight.”
“What about our time together. I’m leaving tomorrow.” Randy wanted Cassandra to himself. Already he started to crave the normality of the affection of their relationship despite the fact he could clearly be classified as a serial killer.
“I’ll come by after.” Cassandra broke away from his hold. Randy offered no real insistence to keep her at the mercy of his affections. “I’ll send a treat to your room; one that will make up for it.” As she pardoned herself she kissed him briefly on the lips again. She had an idea he would just love.
Chapter 5.What Every Boy (With a Fetish For Vivisection) Wants.
Sweet, petite and with a youthful flair Anetta had started dressing herself and Giselle. She ordered clothes from designers and flea markets alike and mixed and matched to create her own interpretation of what Cassandra’s helpers should look like. Cassandra was proud and relieved that the bright summer colours they wore showed signs of happiness, but realized the flimsy and scanty nature was a mark of their upbringing. The pair where sexual creatures and showed it, even if the affections they shared were only for each other, the twin beds Cassandra had had placed in their room had been pushed together. Cassandra was conflicted like a big sister at the display sexuality from such innocents, but accepting had the two beds replaced with a queen size as way of giving her blessing. Giselle was the submissive of the too having less time with liberty and never having escaped the Estate. But Anetta was caring and only demanding when they worked. Giselle though capable at her tasks lacked Anetta skill and creativity.
The two young women from the slaughterhouse sat quietly as Anetta and Giselle applied the detail that polished off their appearance. Both had slender angelic faces; the first had obviously had a boob-job, but Anetta had complemented it by peroxideing the tips, and strands of hair platinum blonde, giving her an artificial but still stunning feel. The second had smaller natural mounds of breast and Anetta died all her hair platinum. Anetta understood the job at hand; she needed to make the girls similar, but not too much like, Cassandra. Both girls had the same long slender legs and gentle curves of Cassandra, both shared her grave full arms and perfect flat belly. The two captive girl’s acquiescence was largely due to two little blue pills Cassandra had requested from Gia. Having gotten the pills she traveled back to the slaughterhouse with its Southern feel and religious blues music strangely at home in the horror of the site. Bryce had taken her on a tour of the cells out back. Cassandra had selected the two most beautiful girls she could find and with Bryce as muscle, force feed them the pills. Half an hour later she emerged with two obedient angels who were taken back to her room and washed, and then seated where they were now, being touched up for Randy.
“They’re very pretty.” Anetta said hopefully from pride of her work. Giselle was silent.
“They’re a present for Randy. He’s leaving tomorrow afternoon. I want to give him something to remember his trip by.” The Cassandra of ten months ago couldn’t have known she would be offering the lives of two young women for the whims of her handsome and disturbed, yet extremely capable boyfriend. All the extremes she had taken; cannibalism; torture; master of slaves, had come from developing relationships and thereby establishing a norm of protocol under un-policed liberty. Cassandra sighed at the memory of making out with boys in the back of their cars. It seemed so strange that letting a boy feel you up was once a way to create a memorable experience for him. Life without limits certainly created desensitization. “They do look perfect Anetta. Excellent work. You too Giselle.”
The shy little Maid and lover to her friend smiled at the praise.
“Done.” Anetta decried as she stepped back, and Giselle finished up and stepped back too.
Cassandra viewed the two naked girls. “Rise please ladies.” Cassandra said, and in the unknown hypnotic state the two girls were in, they both rose and turned to face her. Slender and lean, beautiful in vulnerability and in state the girls wanted to be commanded. “Now.” Cassandra said to her two little helpers. “We need to dress these helpless lasses so they look absolutely appetizing.”
“Gift wrapping.” Anetta said. It was cheek. Her little friend had developed a mischievous nature as an accessory to the crime of sending the two lovely girls to their fate.
Cassandra did not correct her, given her upbringing it was perhaps liberating for Anetta to be casual at the two girls fate, comfortable she would never share it. “Lingerie and high heels. Jewelry and shiny things.” Cassandra paused. “I want them to look like Victoria Secrets models.”
Anetta given her love of reading fashion magazines knew exactly the effect that Cassandra was after. Anetta through experience and talent sized up the two drugged victims measurements and with the confident proclamation of “I’ll be back” hastily took her leave.
The now stunning, doomed women wavered but stood at ease in front of Cassandra. Giselle fidgeted off to the side, not relaxing as her work was not yet finished. Giselle and Cassandra had not spent time alone before, and though she trusted Anetta would be prompt Cassandra seized the moment to get at the mind of Giselle.
“How are you?” She said to Giselle.
“Fine.” Came the brief response. Giselle looked at Cassandra who smiled at her. Slowly the little Maid, less than a year younger than Cassandra started to realize Cassandra was interested in her. “I like games.” Giselle said, perhaps she did not have the confidence to ask Cassandra for something and so hinted as she dared.
“Would you like me to get some games for you?” Cassandra asked happily.