The White Glove Society

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.