The White Glove Society

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.