The White Glove Society

The White Glove Society 7: The Good. The Bad. The Necessary. (Part 1)
By ninja5.


Introduction.



“All right” Kaley clapped her hands twice, “That’s it for today. Good work.” The ballet teacher dipped her head to the class, and then turned to her things by the back wall. The class of about a dozen of Harvard’s selected dancers walked about the room chaotically. The murmur of polite exchanges and sighs of relief drifted into the background as one student eyed Kaley Morris with an unusual (and secret) appetite.

Cassandra Blake stood at the back of the class as the students drifted out. She’d recently only been permitted into the exclusive first division class after a friend made a sizable donation to the ballet program on her behalf. At first Kaley had frowned upon her presence in the class. Cassandra did not have the skills the other girls, many of whom had dedicated their life to the art. But the donation meant that Cassandra could learn, and as she worked and increased in skill, every subtle smile of approval from Kaley fueled her fantasy.

Cassandra had been guided into a world of decadents by sensualists from a secret Society, and since she’d seen Kaley dance; her lust had fallen upon her beautiful ballet teacher. As the last student drifted out of the room Cassandra nervously walked towards Kaley. She stood at the front of the private room removing her ballet slippers; she did not see Cassandra’s silent approach. “Miss Morris?” Cassandra said softly.

Kaley bolted upright, startled by the proximity of her student. She composed herself “Oh, you startled me Miss Blake.” Her voice was polite, but not friendly. She turned her attention back to removing her slippers. “You’re improving, I’ll give you that. You obviously danced up until recently. I can see old habits returning.”

Cassandra eyes the muscular legs as her teacher stretched down. She followed the supple flesh up to the firm buttocks. Her teacher did not hear the quite sigh she made as she straighter herself and the gentle detail in her belly showed. Each individual muscle creating a delicious rise and fall as it molded around the next muscle in a sculptured delight.

Cassandra’s mouth started to water, but she asked anyway “I was wondering if you’d like to get a coffee?” She’d said, nervous like a teenager asking a popular boy out.

Kaley turned and leant her back against the bar running along the back wall, chest sticking out. The move was showy, but Kaley was obviously very pleased with her body and had the confidence that came with it. Perhaps she could tell by the inflection in Cassandra’s voice that there was a sexual motive behind the request. As she put her weight on the bar, her belly tensed flat, and Cassandra felt the warm moisture of arousal, her chest flushed (though it was covered by a sweet shirt). “I don’t socialize with students.” There was an air of superiority in Kaley’s voice, and she did not make eye contact, which meant she did not notice Cassandra’s lick her lips as she eyed the ballet teacher’s body.

As Kaley raised her head to look at her student to push home the point, Cassandra raised her eyes to meet her teachers, her purveying undetected. “Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Cassandra stepped away still facing Kaley Morris as if hopeful for a last minute change of mind.

“Miss Blake.” Kaley called as Cassandra left the dance studio.

“Yes” Cassandra said turning back hopefully.

“Your Aplomb needs work. Try and improve it during tomorrow’s class.”

Cassandra’s head dropped disappointed. “Yes Miss Morris.” She left the studio conflicted. Cassandra did not make any effort to hide from herself her lust for her meat, but she knew it was probably in Kaley’s best interest to keep her distance from her.


Chapter 1.


“No she wouldn’t come out for coffee. She doesn’t socialize with students.” Cassandra had taken to calling her Mistress almost every day since her turning. Gia’s advice seemed to have no limit and Cassandra found if she explained a situation clearly, Gia would come up with the most delightful solutions.

“Just give me her last name; I’ll have someone collect her for you.” Gia voice was confident as always and casual even when speaking of abduction.

“No Mistress, I have to do this on my own or I’m never going to learn.” Cassandra walked along the edge of the bleachers of the practice football ground. Harvard’s team was not their but a visiting team from Oregon was doing their prep for the game tomorrow.

“Sweetie, you’re just starting out. Everyone needs help when they start, it’s how you learn. I had to do my first stalk on my own and it took me two years.”

“You’re first stalk was the Autumn Estate Manager, and you usurped her.” Cassandra chuckled and felt a buzz at knowing one of Gia’s secrets. She had been the House Keeper at the Estate in her early days. Through a master-stroke of manipulation Gia had turned on the Estate Manager and served her up as dinner and then taken her place. Despite flaunting this small power through knowledge over her Mistress she knew she wouldn’t be punished.

“It shouldn’t be difficult to find her last name. A Google search will probably give it to me.”

“Mistress no! I want to seduce her like I did you.” Cassandra’s voice had a sentimental tinge to it. Through her liberal captivity, and the rewards given to her she had become quiet emotional for her early days with her Mistress. The memories of the torture and uncertainty at being dinner now seemed like an initiation into a limitless future.

“Cassy, you didn’t seduce me. I saw a girl of great potential caught up in a helpless situation. The only way you could seduce your ballet teacher is if you provoked the same feeling through her love of dance.”

Cassandra was silent.

“Are you good enough at ballet to do that?”

“No.” Cassandra said sadly.

“Then I would suggest another type of ploy.” Gia paused for a moment. “I’ll arrange a visit to your class from a friend of the Society. He is not one of us, but he has certain proclivities which means he travels in our circles. If your teacher sees you with him, she may come to you.”

“Thank you Gia. I have to go, I’m meeting Randy.”

“Ok. I love you Cassy.” Gia said in parting.

“I love you too Mistress.” Cassandra hung up the phone, the journey along the bleachers completed. Randy Kennedy stood in front of her smiling in his Harvard football team jacket. Perfect hair; perfect face; perfect body; and annoyingly confident. “I thought the Harvard team wasn’t allowed to watch the visiting team practice?”

“There just training. They’re not practicing plays. Besides, the teams coach is a big fan of my great uncle.” Randy grinned. Being a Kennedy opened most doors for him.

Cassandra turned from Randy to his entourage of one. “Hey Gredlar. What’s up?” Cassandra smiled at Randy’s hulking friend who had risen onto the team this past year. He had been the substitute quarter back, Randy’s understudy, but his hulking size meant he could clear almost anyone out of a runner’s path. Playing a new position he’d easily gotten a game. He was not what Cassandra perceived as intelligent, but he had kinetic instincts and his presence deterred those who wanted to take Randy down a notch for being so smug.

“Hey Cassy. You look real pretty in your dance clothes.” Gredlar had been firmly told by Randy that Cassandra was not to be treated in any way like a piece of meat. Randy had told Cassandra that every time Gredlar thought about doing something bad to her, he had been instructed to say something sweet. It was Randy’s strange way of bringing the two together so they could hang out.

“Thanks Gredlar. Do we need to get you something to take the edge of your urges?” Cassandra stepped forward and ran her fingers over Gredlar’s massive biceps. She’d taken to flirtation with Gredlar, not through attraction, but as a means of offering him affection which would not be reciprocated in a sex crime. She did the same for Randy. The behavior had started at the request of her Mistress who wanted Cassandra to make the real world a little more accessible to Randy.

“No. I don’t indulge before a game. Need my Mojo.” Gredlar paused. “But it’s after the game that’s when we get to celebrate. And that’s why we’re here.”

Cassandra turned back to Randy. “Win or lose the opposing team is going to celebrate.” Randy surveyed the field and then pointed to a group of cheerleaders stretching along the boundary line. “The question is which one do we take for our little celebration. We can’t get close enough to check them out without causing a face-off with the other team’s players.”

Cassandra knew what Randy wanted. “You want me to go over there?” She asked making it official.

“If you could.” Randy smiled and is eyes shone with attraction at Cassandra. Not in an attempt to seduce her, but out of habit. Randy had never had a girlfriend he didn’t eat (or try to eat), and so was slightly retarded when it came to dealing with women as equals. As much as he was helping Cassandra live her new lifestyle, she was helping him deal with women in a manner that wouldn’t draw attention when he worked around outsiders.

“Ok. What do you want; a picture?”

“What I want is someone with stamina. Someone who’s going to survive having their limbs amputated and organs removed.” Randy looked intently at Cassandra, his dark side looming as he divulged his intent. The plan as revealed didn’t turn Cassandra on; in fact she found Randy’s hobbies a little beneath what Gia had offered her. Randy (despite his breeding) and Gredlar lacked the sophistication some of the other members of the Society displayed.

Cassandra hid her distaste and was not worried for her own safety around him. She knew Randy would never practice his arts on her; she was protected by Gia. If her Mistress was to ever turn on her, it would be a personnel encounter between the two of them. “Ok. Healthy, with stamina. And just a touch of fighting spirit.” Cassandra turned to walk around the boundary line to the gaggle of cheerleaders, as she did so she winked at Gredlar. The wink struck at Randy’s ego and bought Gredlar’s insatiable hormones to the surface. Cassandra was beginning to see how Gia controlled the men of the Society by playing them against each other, even though all they did was eat women like her.



The walk to the opposite side of the field was short and the team’s officials did not worry about Cassandra as she walked to watch the cheerleaders. It was not ballet, and Cassandra hoped she was not becoming a snob as she watched the visiting cheerleaders run a rough rehearsal of their routine. All of the girl’s bodies were honed and tight, any would make a beautiful companion for Randy’s surgical table, but she had to look for something that would entice Randy and Gredlar, similar to the way Kaley had caught her attention. It could be the smallest thing; an inflection in the voice; a hint at liking rough sex; a trusting nature. Cassandra studied the girls, eliminating the more plain looking ones from contention. The girls broke routine and all started jumping up and down in a combination of mock celebration and warm down. After a moment they seemed satisfied with their rehearsal and the centre girl moved forward and turned. “Ok. Run a lap and then come back.” The Head Cheerleader turned Ninety degrees and started running, all the girls taking off after her. Suddenly Cassandra was at jeopardy of being left alone without a prize name to take back to the boys.

A single cheerleader remained and she was smiling at Cassandra. “Hi, how’s it going?” She said friendly. Her body language was open, she seemed extraverted and trusting.

The boxes were being ticked in Cassandra’s mind. “You’re not running?” She said without answering the cheerleader’s question.

She was a blond shorter than Cassandra and she had wavy blond shoulder length hair and a pretty face with a big mouth and big brown eyes. “No, Britney’s a pushover.” The cheerleader said referring to her leader. She was wearing her Oregon Ducks uniform, a tiny green and black skirt with a crop top. Cassandra worked hard not to stare at her tanned midriff and ruin the friendly encounter. “I’m Violet; I’m from Tigard, Oregon.” The girl walked forward and smiled, her body bubbling with friendly energy.

“Hi Violet, I’m Cassandra, I……”

“Where you talking to Randy Kennedy, the Crimsons Quarterback?” Violet interrupted Cassandra mid-sentence. The smile was large on her face, and Cassandra had the urge to pause and see how the young strumpet would cope keeping the smile if kept waiting.”

“Yes.” Cassandra replied, suddenly thinking her work would be easy.

“Is he really JFK’s nephew?

“Great nephew.” Cassandra corrected. “He’s studying medicine.”

To Cassandra’s dismay the smile on Violet’s face grew larger. “I just think the Kennedy’s are the best. Do you think I could meet him?”

Cassandra had gone over to the cheerleaders with an entire ploy invented. She would pretend to ask questions about dancing and training, all under the cover of her Ballet studies. None of that seemed required. Violet was a fish jumping out of the water into the boat. “What are you doing after the game tomorrow?” Cassandra asked after giving Violet another look over, to ensure she was as beautiful as she first perceived. Her tight tanned skin over her fit and toned ample muscle suggested fitness and stamina, as well as healthy eating.

“Nothin’” Violet paused. “Well I can get out of hangin’ with the girls.” Violet was creeping towards Cassandra with eagerness.

“Well Randy is having a small party back at his place after the game; if you like I could tell him about you.”

Violet seemed to have reached her peek of excitement. “Yeah that would be great. I mean, thanks Cassandra.”

“Call me Cassy.” Cassandra stepped forward and handed Violet one of Randy’s business cards. Give him a call at about Eight PM to make sure it’s Ok to come over. It’s a kind of a cool-down thing he does after a game, so don’t tell anyone.”

Violet nodded enthusiastically as Cassandra handed her the card and then marveled at it.

“I’ll let you get back to it. See you tomorrow Violet.” Cassandra stepped back and the ecstatic Violet placed the card in her sport top, before waving with dancing fingers and taking of around the field to catch her team mates. Cassandra stood in place, marveling at how stupid people were. She entertained the notion of how the populous would react if they ever learned about the White Glove Society and their practices of eating women. Before she headed back to Randy and Gredlar she saw Violet run past them standing by the bleachers. Violet turned to her side and waved at the boys, again with dancing fingers. Cassandra decided she would not tell them how the mythos around Randy’s family had scored them an easy meal. She would make them think she was magic.


Chapter 2.


Cassandra felt a little nauseous as Gredlar picked up Dakota like a baby and rocked her in his arms as if trying to put her to sleep. The scarred stubs of flesh where all four limbs had once been disturbed her, but Dakota’s heavily pregnant state directly unhinged her. Dakota was Gredlar’s fuck-pet, a girl taken and eaten but left to live out her existence helpless to the insatiable needs of her owner. The crippled girl whined in distress as Gredlar sang “Mary had a little lamb to her”, an erection visible through his cargo pants.

“Don’t stress about Dakota.” Randy said to Cassandra bringing her a glass of water as she sat in Randy’s living room. “She went insane months ago.”

Cassandra took the glass of water and then looked into Dakota’s eyes. She had a desperate mania in her stare. “What about her baby?” Cassandra said, concerned like any normal woman would be.

“We’re sending it to Saudi Arabia to be raised, and keeping Dakota to milk.” Randy not use to entertaining women other than to seduce and trap them was at a loss to comfort Cassandra. “We ate Dakota’s cousin. The family was pretty, so the baby should be too. It’ll make a great piece of meat when it grows up.” Randy’s attempted assurances were as inept as his compassion.

“Just tell Gredlar to put her away, he looks like he’s ready to fuck her in front of us.” Cassandra said motivated to give Dakota some compassion, and concern that Violet might arrive without having called first.

Randy, despite his heritage of leadership obeyed Cassandra’s order. “Gredlar, take Dakota out back to your room and put her down for the night.”

Gredlar still rocking Dakota stopped singing and started walking to his room. Cassandra guess when they got there he would probably force himself on the pregnant pet behind closed doors. The act of sex would not sate his appetite for long; he was frustrated at the loss to Oregon.

“You seem a little distant Cassy. You worried about getting caught?”

Cassandra looked up at Randy from her seat and gave him a reassuring smile. “No. We never get caught.” She said in reference to the Society as a whole. “I think I feel guilty.”

Randy startled in his expression. “What do you mean?” He took a seat next to Cassandra on the sofa and lent in.

Cassandra turned, confident in her feelings, “The time you met me at the Autumn Estate was my first experience with the Society. To be honest I thought I was going to get to screw some hot guys.” Cassandra paused.

Randy smiled at the memory of Cassandra trapped in her slinky bikini, which she’d worn to impress him, at an Estate filled with cannibals.

Cassandra saw the chance to give Randy a dose of normal affection despite the topic of conversation. She leant forward and placed her hand on his. He looked slightly nervous, but Cassandra knew it was only through someone like her that he would learn affection.

“We are at the apex of our society, so we can do what we please, but sometimes the things that we do imply we’re rather……… crude!”

“I’m not sure I follow.” Randy said, Cassandra’s contact calming his ego so that he listened intently.

“Raping and brutal mutilation of a victim is not the same as seducing, capturing and taming one into an oven.” Cassandra stroked the back of Randy’s hand with her fingers drawing him into the intimacy that would follow. She raised herself up and leant in, her face close to Randy’s, the distance between them diminished, but not the tension she had created. Randy was in a comfortable place, experienced with woman as he was. Cassandra was replying on the fact that being something he hadn’t stalked for sadism she might have the upper hand however.

“You think I’m crude?” Randy said trying to be suave despite the description of his surgical practices.

But Cassandra had learnt her confidence from Gia, and the waver in his voice confirmed her early seduction. “Sometimes. You need to shape up if you’re ever going to make it outside the Society’s world.” She could feel heat radiating off Randy, a signal that she too was flushed with the moment. Randy stayed still, no doubt used to women’s advances and clearly wanting Cassandra to make the final step of the prelude to a kiss.

Cassandra knew Gia would never forgive her if she let Randy have her so easily. She relaxed her body despite her attraction to Randy and slumped back into her seat, not indulging in the kiss.

Randy’s earlier look of surprise returned.

“You’ll get there Randy.” Cassandra said, blowing off the moment and implying that Randy confidence had failed him. She knew from her phone conversations with Gia that she wanted her to have some effect on his life. When Cassandra had developed as an adolescent she’d noticed a change in the way men looked at her. Her education into the Society offered another period of sexual empowerment, and she planned to develop her skills like her Mistress had.

Randy looked confused and a little hurt feelings he would not have had if he didn’t admire Cassandra. The realization that she was important to him combined with her criticism was intended to drive home her message of becoming more sophisticated in his methods of acquiring his victims. His education was interrupted by his mobile phone ringing. He lent forward and pulled it from the pocket of his slacks. A smile grew over his face, “Violet. Yes my friend told me about you.” Randy’s confidence had returned like Cassandra expected it always would. What was important was that it returned to be used with his education.

Cassandra could hear the excited chatter from the speaker on Randy’s phone.

“Yeah, you can come over.”

Cassandra raised her finger to interject.

“One second.” Randy put his hand over the receiver.

“Do you really want to bring her hear straight away? Shouldn’t you get to know her a little first so her reactions mean something?” Cassandra pushed the point, she was eager to have some influence over Randy to report to Gia.

Part of Randy’s practice charmed was his compliance with women’s wishes. “Hey Violet, change of plans. Would you like to go out?” Randy smiled as he heard the excited conformation. “Great, I’ll come by and pick you up.” Randy looked excited, the intimacy with Cassandra already forgotten at the excitement of a stalk.

Cassandra didn’t mind so long as he didn’t become immune to her. She still had the advantage that he could never follow through with his lust and feed on her. With luck she would be able to influence his habits more to her liking. She had come to realize what Gia searched for in her indulgences was a conception of her victim’s psychology. Once psychology was in play, intelligence in her actions followed, and as she learned from people, the intricacy created sophistication and offered education. It was something she intended to use from the start to fend off the consequences of her actions on her victims.

Randy collected the keys to his sports car. “You gonna be here for the meal Cassy?” Randy said as he rose to collect his victim.

“No, I have to go home and work on my Aplomb.” Cassandra rose and stood beside Randy who was still and looking at her intently. Cassandra realized that despite the momentary distraction of Violet, the intimacy of her advances had lingered over. She smiled at him.

“You’re a smart girl Cassy. Too good to eat.”

Cassandra was slightly thrown by Randy’s confession. “Go seduce Violet Randy” she replied, not sure what to make of the possibly permanent development of Randy’s respect. Despite her physical attraction to him, she knew his eating habits were not those of her Mistress, and that her Mistress would not permit her to compromise on her lifestyle for a man.

Randy nodded and walked out the front door.

Cassandra, out of habit, picked up her finished glass of water and took it to the kitchen. As she returned to the living room to collect her things to go home to Anetta she heard Gredlar’s downstairs door slam open.

The worst slavery had to offer happen. Gredlar hastily stormed into the living rooms wearing no pants. “Fucking bitch.” He yelled, agitated as he paced backwards and forwards ignorant to Cassandra shock at his behavior.

“GREDLAER!” Cassandra yelled in shocked, and as an order for him to cover himself. Michael Gredlar stood in front of her, penis erect, angry for some reason. Gelatin like fluid covered his crotch and was mingled with blood.

“Bitches water broke whilst I was fucking her.” He said oblivious to Cassandra’s insistence on modesty.

“What!” Cassandra yelled horrified that anger to Dakota’s situation would be an annoyance to him. She pushed past him and ran down the hall to the room of Randy’s house she had never entered. She was oblivious to the surgical tools and table which furnished the room and served as Gredlar’s decorating and stared at poor Dakota as she wailed in pain in the otherwise soundproof room. Dakota stared at her through her insanity, what humanity she had left seemed to understand her situation and was pleading for help.

Gredlar having calmed through his outburst move to her side, his pants still missing.

“Call Randy.” Cassandra said in a panic.

“What?!” Gredlar said his voice rising in pitch. “If you interrupt him, he won’t bring home any meat.”

Cassandra breathed deeply and gathered her panic into angry resolve. “Gredlar” she said through curled lips, “We don’t harm babies.”

“Fuck the baby, let’s just kill her.”

Cassandra turned and rammed her knee into Gredlar’s groin. The heavy weight buckled and collapsed to his knees with a squeal. The act calmed Cassandra and she moved to Dakota’s side, instinct telling her to comfort the deranged girl. “It’s going to be Ok Dakota” Cassandra said stroking her brow. The kindness took the edge of the poor slave’s desperation. Cassandra had a sickening feeling as Dakota stared at her as if she could bring her mercy. Cassandra realized she had to protect this child and immediately pulled out her mobile phone to call Randy back from his seduction of the simple Violet. Gredlar was still on the floor wailing selfishly.


Chapter 3.



Cassandra sat at the bar, watching the bar-tender hitting on a couple of sluted up co-eds on the other side. Up until recently she wouldn’t have recognized the rehearsed manner with which the bar tender plied his trade. The girls were older than Cassandra but they were buying every line he dropped, caught up in a fit of giggles as the free drinks kept coming. Up until her first visit to the Autumn Estate and meeting Gia, she realized she was just as naive, but now she saw people playing games from every angle, their Id’s needs forming their motivations. She knew she was no different, and at the moment she felt just a dirty as the worst of them.

Randy had returned upon her request, but not without take-away. As he entered his home he carried an unconscious Violet in his arms, his experiment in seduction canceled. Gredlar glared at Cassandra with rage as she assisted in the birth, the first she had been privy too. When the process, cut short through the application of a C-section, had been completed Cassandra took the baby in her arms and nurtured it, whilst Randy stitched up the unconscious Dakota (her suffering not yet over). The baby girl cried its first moments in the world a shock and the sudden realization of where the Societies servants came from made Cassandra felt dirty. Randy made a call, and an hour later a woman in neat clothing came to collected the washed and still crying baby girl, to be taken away overseas to be raised.

Cassandra tapped the tall shot glass on the bar. The bar-tender looked over his shoulder and apologized to the two girls and came to serve Cassandra another drink. As he poured the measure of top shelf vodka into the glass Cassandra, having already had several, leant forward and said to him, “You do realize I’m not twenty-one, don’t you.” She said daring the bartender not to serve her. All she really wanted was to be judged and condemned for something so she didn’t have to feel so guilty. She rocked backward and forward on her stool, clearly feeling the effects of her four shots.

The bartender put the bottle back on the shelf and pushed the glass towards Cassandra. There was no flirtation, not like with the other girls. “Pretty girls are good for business.” He said. There was no hint of showing his attraction to Cassandra, but she had been on campus long enough to know when it was there. Most likely he could tell by Cassandra’s expression she was not interested in him. He simply nodded and turned away, heading back to take his pick of the two girls. As he did so Cassandra tired of the play being acted out before her and turned to see what was happening in the rest of the bar.

What looked like three Math majors all turned away as Cassandra turned to survey them. They were sitting in a booth and obviously had been checking her out. She smiled at the notion, and realized she was now the type of girl that carried baggage, and would generally be considered no good. Behind them in the next booth were a couple looking deeply into each other eyes and talking animatedly. They made Cassandra feel sad. The closest thing to a boyfriend she had was Randy, and as she had seen tonight he was deranged by his upbringing and the grandiose station people held him in. In the next booth were two plain looking girls, and they too seemed close. They made Cassandra think of her strange friendship with Anetta, her little Maid. Cassandra felt sadder thinking that Anetta would never be her equal. She’d been retarded and brainwashed by her upbringing as a servant.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be drinking.” Cassandra turned to the woman’s voice that had approached her directly from the entrance. She was Gia’s aged, mid to late thirties, and like Gia she had maintained her looks. She wore black pair of business slacks (boot cut), a white shirt and a black vest. She looked like a cop, but she wasn’t carrying a gun that Cassandra could see. “How’d you get a drink anyway?”

“Us pretty girls are good for business.” Cassandra raised her shot glass and in defiance to the natural authority the woman had and sunk it back, grimacing at the strength and trying not to show her inexperience at drinking.

“You really think they’d risk the fine just for one pretty girl?” The woman looked part Hispanic. She definitely had some ethnicity too her. She was over six foot tall and slender with and narrow but attractive face. She looked like she could be quiet expressive when not in her current authoritarian mood, but whilst in that mood looked as though she could handle herself in confrontation. “You seem to get into a lot of places without trying Cassandra Blake. How is that?”

Cassandra tried to assess the situation. “Are you a cop?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know my name?” Cassandra, not having all her faculties was relying on the anger she felt from her conflicted feelings.

“I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions Miss Blake?” The woman was bold.

“I think you should leave.” Cassandra said turning away from the woman.

“I think we should talk.” The woman quickly responded.

“Then I think I should go.” Cassandra said and started getting up.

“Do you need a lift?” The woman persisted.

“Look, I’m underage and drunk. The last thing I’m going to do is get in a car with a strange woman.” Cassandra collected her bag and pushed past the woman.

The woman did not stay behind, but followed Cassandra as she left the bar. “I’ve changed my mind. I want to buy you a drink.”

“Fuck off.” Cassandra snapped.

“Have a drink with me, or I’ll call the police and tell them Randal Kennedy and his House-mate are murdering a girl in his home.”

Cassandra stopped dead in her tracks.

“It’s only been an hour and a half. Whatever they’ve amputated will just about be cooked. I imagine they will be sitting down to eat it about the time the cops bash down the door.” The woman stood triumphant, having captured Cassandra’s full attention. She gestured to the back of the bar and an empty booth. “Come on Miss Blake. Your bartender friend can keep an eye on us, you’ll be perfectly safe.”

Cassandra not willing to risk betraying Randy and Gredlar began to walk to the booth, eyeing the woman cautiously as she pushed past her. The woman went to the bar and ordered two drinks, both non-alcoholic, before walking towards Cassandra as she sat on the edge of the booth seat, ready to run for the exit should she have to.

“Who are you?” Cassandra said, firmly and with the intent to report this woman to Gia to be dealt with.

As the woman sat she pressed her lips and touted at the question, as if Cassandra was foolish to even ask. “Miss Blake I prefer you didn’t know. I’m just an intermediary after all, and your Mistress has a habit of eating the messenger.” The woman towered over Cassandra even sitting down. She took a sip from her drink and smiled politely, “Have you ever wondered why the Society doesn’t eat whomever they like.”

Cassandra frowned not comprehending the question, from her experience they almost certainly did.

The woman observed Cassandra’s confusion and offered an explanation. “Why not eat a movie star or a playboy centerfold.” Finally the woman’s expressive nature was being displayed. The simple inflection of her hands emphasized her words and she continued. “Why haven’t the Victoria Secret Models been rounded up and subjected to the most depraved indulgences of the Society members. The reason Miss Blake; the thing that keeps the Society members in check, is the very people who allow the Society to function.” The woman reached into her pocket and pulled a gold badge out of her pocket. Cassandra recognized it from her days with her father on one of his campaigns; it was a gold NSA badge. “We protect the anonymity of the Society members and they adhere to keeping a low profile. It’s not in the interest of their victims, but it means the world can keep turning without the long standing corruptions of the elite causing a mass hysteria of the people.”

Cassandra still eyed the woman cautiously, but realized she was in no immediate danger.

“We protected your father, like we protected the Presidents and wealthy who were members. You may not have realized, but knowing that you too would become a member when you came of age means we have been keeping an eye on you too.” The woman rested her hands and then took another sip of her drink, allowing her information to sink in.

“You obviously want something from me.” Cassandra said, trying to get to the point, but her intent to get to the bottom of this reveal was perhaps at the cost of acquiring more information as to the background workings of the Society. She looked again at the NSA badge, memorizing the five digit Id number on it.

“Someone you are very close to is upsetting the balance of power.”

Cassandra knew what the woman was saying “Gia.” She said slightly shocked. She had never perceived Gia ever having to answer to anyone, not even Dalton her owner.

“Your Mistress is laying out a plan to extend her reach of influence over the world. Since she has no ties to the outside world; no family; no country of allegiance; no accountability outside the Society, we would prefer she not succeed in her endeavor.” The woman was not giving Cassandra any details. Perhaps she herself did not know what Gia was up to. It was possible she was just a messenger.

“What do you expect me to do?” Cassandra extended, trying to say as little as possible. If this woman was NSA she had to give her as little detail as possible. Cassandra realized with what they knew about her it was most likely her phone and home had been tapped, and her movements monitored. The woman probably knew the name of every girl Cassandra had been involved in killing.

She smiled as if Cassandra was an innocent for not picking up on the premise of her ploy. “We want you to usurp her Miss Blake.”

“Excuse me.” Cassandra said rhetorically.

“Use your time to gain influence in her Estate, and when you are secure in your position, usurp her; and indulge in her flesh.”

Cassandra mouth dropped at the woman’s intention to have her eat her Mistress. The expression on the woman’s face indicated she was very serious, and not at all squeamish at insisting an act of cannibalism. “Gia Eros will be dealt with by the end of the next fall. If you are still loyal to her then I’d say you’ll find yourself at the mercy of whoever takes her place.” The woman dropped the friendly act. “You’ll probably end up as dinner; or perhaps a breeder; or if you’re unlucky you’ll end up like the reporter Rosalita and never be allowed to die.”

Cassandra’s anger was kept in check by her fear of what she was being told.

“You’ve been warned Miss Blake.” The woman rose leaving her drink and walked to the exit without looking back.

Cassandra was left in the booth staring into space.


Chapter 4.


Gia Eros sat in the front row of the fashion show beside Roberto Cavalli. He sat in an attempt to appear relaxed, but the tension in his legs betrayed his nervousness at the reception his show would bring. Gia placed her hand on his thigh in reassurance and smiled without turning her head away from the girls who paraded along the catwalk an arms throw away. She had seen several dresses she like, some for herself and some for her House Keeper Lilianna. Cavalli had a habit of releasing his designs six months before other designers collections came out in spring, which would mean her dresses would be new come autumn. In addiction she was viewing the models, captivated with one in particular. Her body was lean, but Gia’s favorite cut of meat was seldom affected by waif weight, and the girl had an enticing range of variations of the vogue expression. Gia wanted to see her perform on her cross as she tested her with her silver needle.

Her meditations were interrupted by a suited attendant tapping her on the shoulder. Annoyed, but not showing it, she turned her attention away from the beauty of the show. The attendant silently apologized through gesture and expression and handed her a telegram. Gia nodded in thanks and turned back to the show curious. She sent telegrams but did not know anyone else who did. She opened it and noted the bordered “Urgent” label at the top centre of the message.

Gia.
Had a visit from NSA.
Badge Number 34931.
Need to talk securely.
Cassandra.

Gia looked back to the show giving no indication her mind was gearing itself for trouble. The model she had been admiring reentered the catwalk again in a dark brown short dress. As her long legs strutted down in stiletto’s her ankle rolled causing her to stumble momentarily but quickly recover, her expression giving no waver in light of the fumble. Cavalli tensed his fists at the blemish on an otherwise perfect display of his designs. Gia leant over subtly and whispered in his ear. “Don’t worry my old friend. I’ll take that one off your hands.”


Chapter 5.

Finding a place that sent telegrams was not an easy job. The task made more difficult by being inebriated and without transport. Rajesh the Indian taxi driver had made close to thousand dollars driving her to various dispatches and money exchange booths in the early hours of the morning. Finally Cassandra had tried the airport and succeeded in sending a dispatch to Gia. She hoped that the telegram was such an antiquated method of communication the NSA would not be able to trace or intercept it. Cassandra wished she could attribute her allegiance to Gia down to pure loyalty, but she knew the formidable task of challenging her near omnipotent Mistress played a role in her commitment to Gia. Despite the threat from her own Government, Gia seemed like the more dangerous sole to cross. A night of drinking, stress and no sleep had taken its toll. She could not concentrate on the instruction given by Kaley Morris as she walked along the line of students on the balance bar. Her voice rose to an authoritarian yell as she passed Cassandra, clearly displeased with her performance. Unhinged and too exhausted to be vexed Cassandra nervously shifted her head to see if the attention of her teacher was still on her.

“Miss Blake” Kaley snapped “Eyes forward, try to get something right today.” Her scathing review of Cassandra’s tired efforts was cut short by the sound of the studio door opening and closing.

“You should go easy on the girl; she’s clearly been kept up all night by something my dear.” The man spoke with a Baltic accent and wore a white suit and tied with black vest. He was in his late Fifties and his blemished face showed a proclivity to not protecting his skin from the sun.

Kaley Morris, graceful even in shock, turned her body to face the man. Her students could not see the humbling effect the proclaiming had on her. She knew his name to be Antoli Burkov, a Lithuanian master who had retired at his ballet peak and consulted at academies for exorbitant fees. “Chef Burkov……..” Kaley could not finish without a pause. She took a deep breath. “Girls to station” Kaley said and clapped her hands. The dancers all turned to face the visitor, who clearly didn’t need an invitation. The girls posed and Kaley glided to the head of the line waving open arms, presenting her students.

Antoli bowed his head at the respect and then flurried his hand as if to demonstrate the grace of the art he had master. “Forgive my intrusion young Mistress”, he said to Kaley. “I have an urgent message for Miss Blake from a mutual friend. I trust my interrupting your class is proof of its urgency” He turned his gaze to Cassandra.

Cassandra had heard his name in ballet circles, but had never met the man nor seen him dance. She guessed he was the “friend” Gia had spoken of whom would help gain Kaley’s attention.

“She looks like she could rest; perhaps I could give her the message whilst you conduct your class. Antoli gestured for Cassandra to take his side and he sat on a chair near the door of the studio. Cassandra turned to Kaley and bowed before walking over to the seat man. As she approached him he opened his arms and kissed her on the check. As he did so he whispered, “Laugh like we are close.”

Cassandra did her best moving back from the affection with the politician’s chuckle she’d learnt from her father. Antoli’s smile was much more genuine and they both took at seat. Kaley continued with her class, though visibly self conscious with Antoli watching.

“Chef Burkov, I’m afraid I’ve never had the pleasure of seeing you dance, but I have heard of you. Are you Gia’s friend?”

Antoli smiled, “Gia is rewarding my visit. I am at your service my meile. Tell me; how I can help you ensnare this dance mistress of yours.”

Cassandra thought for a moment. After seeing what had happened to Dakota and her child she had no present inclination to claim Kaley as her own.

Antoli seemed to pick up on her hesitation. “Something wrong my dear?”

“I saw them take an abducted woman’s baby.” Cassandra tilted her head and smiled as she said it, a ploy to throw of the serious nature of the point she had just raised.

“My little meile, do you doubt they will care for the child? All of the Society servants, all of them, are healthy and satisfied creatures. The baby will be cared for with acute attention to filling the role it is most suited for. It will not be abused with idiotic television and teen music; nor poisoned with fast food and soft drink. If it accepts the discipline that guides it, it may live a long a healthy life will with exorbitance and luxury.”

Cassandra knew the justification the Society members made for their acquiescence of slavery. It was a lie she had tried to convince herself of. Antoli was clearly a fan of the Society. If he was not a Society member then perhaps his indulgences differed from sexual cannibalism and slavery; or perhaps, Cassandra realized remembering a rumor she had heard as a younger dancer, he preferred those activities with men. “Cassandra, understanding a little with whom she was in bed with, felt a little more confident. “I’ve changed my mind about taking my ballet teacher. I’m moving on.”

Antoli looked shocked. “Oh no you don’t. I’m afraid I’m under specific instructions from your Mistress to have you carry on as usual.”

Cassandra was taken aback. “What has she told you?”

“That you are under scrutiny, and that you are to carry on as you would as though you are not being watched.” Antoli reached into his pocket and produced a telegram. “She thought sending it directly to you would arouse suspicion. Read it, and obey?” Antoli looked back at the class which was close to wrapping up.

With apprehension growing Cassandra read the telegram:

Dear Cassy.
Take your Ballet teacher as your own.
Maintain appearances at all costs.
I will collect you shortly.
Love Gia.

Cassandra folded the note twice and hid it from sight. She had been given her instructions, and whatever Gia’s solution was her role had been set for her. By practice she instantly composed herself, “Very well Chef Burkov. Join me in a ploy to have Kaley Morris come to my house for dinner. You needn’t attend the actual date.” Cassandra had fantasized about getting Kaley into the basement dungeon in her house ever since she’d been turned, but now it seemed like bad idea.

“As you wish my meile.” Antoli said wistfully.

Kaley clapped her hands as she always did signifying the end to training. Instead of removing her slippers and leaving like she always did she glided over to Antoli and Cassandra who both rose to greet her. Antoli would give his view of the class, and Cassandra would invite them both to dinner at her place where Kaley would become a permanent resident.


Chapter 6.


Kaley lay asleep like a fairytale princess in stark contrast to the sterile and cold basement. The heavy steel shackles on her wrists and ankles made the retro fifties sundress tell a tale of sexual submission. Cassandra nervously shook the fourth shackle for the third time, clearly nervous that when she awoke she would escape.

“She’s not going anywhere anytime soon my meile.” Antoli said from the top of the stairs. He’d come to Cassandra’s house under the guise of mentoring Cassandra in abduction; but more likely was nervous that she would make mistake and have her prey escape. “You should have stripped her before shackling her. Or do you want her awake when you unwrap your toy?”

“I only went through with this because Gia said to. Recent events have changed my proclivities.” Cassandra said, the fear of being caught encouraging the adrenalin that fueled her confidence with the Man-eater Antoli. She did not mention her recent bad experience with Randy and Gredlar where an innocent baby had been taken off to a life of a piece of cattle or slave. She had learnt; no matter how erotic an idea like a sex slave is; the situation in reality may be extremely disturbing.

“Well it is done. You have your beautiful ballet teacher as a pet, and I will acquire a new toy to play with as payment for services rendered.” Antoli grinned the sadist’s grin that plagued so many of her equals. She was beginning to hate it.

“Do we have any further business Mr. Burkov?” Cassandra wander him gone so she could get some rest before Kaley woke and her life became even more complicated.

“If you are happy, my meile; then we are done.” Antoli clicked his heals together and dipped his head ignoring Cassandra attitude.

“Anetta will show you out then. I’m afraid I need a moment.” Cassandra called up the stairs, though rude not to show him out, she was in fact acknowledging diligence over Kaley’s predicament. She believed seeing this would make him happier than a friendly farewell.

“Take care Cassandra Blake. And mind you’re Mistress, seldom is it seen but she has a furious temper.” Antoli turned and left the tiny silhouette of Anetta fluttering past the doorway to show him out.

Cassandra gazed down at Kaley; beautiful and peaceful, about to wake into a nightmare. She bit her bottom lip realize that her desires carried a death sentence for the adored. “Jesus Cassandra” she said to herself. “What’s going to happen next?”

Her mobile phone rang the Doogie Howser MD theme song; her personalized ringtone for Randy. “Oh fuck me!” she exclaimed and immediately regretted it. Kaley stirred on the floor, nearly bought to consciousness by her frustrated words. “What is it Randy” she whispered, answering her phone.

“Why are you whispering?” Randy said on the other end of the line.

“I’m busy. Call back tomorrow.” Cassandra said and went to hang up the phone.

“Wait. Wait. Wait.” She heard and pulled the phone back to her ear.

“Gia said you have to go to a dinner party with me. VIP’s only and very formal. She’s just flown in and wants you to be there.”

“When?”

“Tonight. Make yourself your usual stunning self and I’ll pick you up in about an hour and a half.” Randy hung up.

Cassandra felt weak. She took one last look at Kaley before walking up the stairs and locked the soundproof basement door, leaving Kaley to wake up alone. Anetta approached her from across the room; she could tell from Cassandra’s expression that she was needed. “I have to go to a party tonight. Can you help me get ready quickly?” Cassandra asked the question, but to the brainwashed Anetta it was a command to be happily obeyed.

Anetta smiled, happy to serve her Mistress. “What kind of party is it?”

“I’m not sure. Randy just said very formal.” The smile on Anetta face increased. She was susceptible to what Cassandra called the Princess factor. The closer to dressing Cassandra up like a princess she was, the more pleasure she got out of the task. “I’m going to go have a quick shower. Just get everything ready.” Cassandra turned up stairs, he steps an effort with her lack of sleep.


Chapter 7.


Cassandra had tried so hard to encourage liberties in her little Made Anetta, often in vain. A single tear rolled down her check and she picked up a tissue and blotted it before her makeup could be blemished. Anetta had selected a long slender, black evening gown with a v-cut neck line. The dress hugged her shoulders as tightly as her waist, and though of a style in fashion, what made Cassandra cry was Anetta concentrating hard on her hair. Instead of curled, flowing hair; or a bun; Anetta had braided Cassandra’s hair into a platted pigtail. Anetta had creatively made Cassandra look like a Norse Valkyrie. She could have easily been a stylist in a high price solon or studio, but instead her upbringing had confined her to have no possession, or even to desire having some. Cassandra knew accepting the servitude of Anetta was not the worst thing she had done by far, but the genuine loyalty she got from her Maid was the most reliable thing in her life.

As Anetta finished Cassandra turned around in the swivel chair and took both of Anetta hands. “It’s perfect Anetta. Gia will love your work.”

Anetta smiled, please with herself.

“I want you to take the rest of the evening off, but you have to spend your time thinking.”

Anetta looked expectantly for instructions on the mental exercise.

“If you could have anything in the world, what would you like?”

Anetta opened her mouth to start speaking.

Cassandra cut her off. “Not something to help you serve, but something for yourself, and not a book. Something you’ve always wanted.” Anetta nodded and the doorbell rang. Randy had arrived. “Go answer the door, I’ll be right down.” As Anetta scurried off to get the door Cassandra made one final check in the mirror, her marks of fatigue had be removed. She rose slowly in the dress and downstairs heard Randy talking to Anetta. Cassandra hurried, fearing his charms may cause Anetta to have a fit of embarrassment. Though come to think of it, Anetta had never seemed to have an attraction to any men, on TV or in real life. The thought was quickly put to rest and she round the corner at the base of the stairs and approached Randy, waiting at the door in a black tuxedo.

“Fuck me.” He said out of character starring at Cassandra.

The dress hugged her young body save the slit up the right hand side to allow her to walk. The low cut neckline and open back showed enough skin to clearly indicate how good she would look naked. “Calm down Randy, you’ve seen me in less.” She said putting in her diamond stud earrings on the fly.

“Yeah, but you were already unwrapped then.” He said referring to the time she had liberated him from the late Stephanie Benson’s steam room; or perhaps he was referring to the bikini she had been in when they first met. “You Ok?” he asked sensing something was up.

Cassandra knew she should be conservative with her recently founded hesitations to the Societies practices, but she knew it inevitable that he would figure it out soon anyway. “I’m tired; I’ve got an abducted woman in my basement; my best friend has servitude ingrained into her; and my torture loving Mistress is going to take one look at me and figure out I have hesitations about our lifestyle.” She left out the part about choosing Gia over her government. Randy probably knew nothing of the matter.

Randy looked surprised. Cassandra was too tired to take in how much her appearance had taken him of guard. Her beauty coupled with the knowledge he wasn’t allowed to eat her had a disconcerting effect on him which facilitate Cassandra recent attempts to get him to acclimate to the real world before he was flung further into it. “Talk to Gia.” He said unsure if it was the right thing to say. “She can help with anything.”

Cassandra ignored him, another thing Randy wasn’t used to from woman. She kissed Anetta on the cheek and wished her a pleasant evening before Randy escorted her to his Mustang. As Randy closed her passenger side door and walked to the driver’s seat she heard muffled cries from the boot and thudding noises as if someone was trying to get out. Despite being tired she realized it was probably Violet. As Randy got in he looked across and smiled, probably hoping for a reaction. Cassandra forced a friendly smile and Randy picked up on the subsurface pang of guilt Cassandra felt realizing she had once again played a part in a torturous murder.

“Don’t worry about the little things Cassy.” Randy said as he pulled away from the curb.

“Anetta was raised from a baby to be eaten one day Randy.” Cassandra said voicing the crux of the problem and the person she was most concerned with.

Randy drove silently for a moment and then spoke. “The deviants; the perverts; the crude bastards who mutilate, always feel guilt from time to time. Those who don’t; like Dalton Monroe; and Gia, they're at piece with their prays fate.” It was an honest account that the sadists grin Cassandra had come to hate came from those who’s mind were conflicted by their actions. The civilized cannibals had no remorse.

Cassandra stared out the window contemplating Randy’s honesty. Though he couldn’t possible maintain a relationship with a woman without eating her, he was very intelligent when it came to Society life. Cassandra took a deep breath and resigned herself to the fact that soon she would watch Violet be cooked alive and in such a fashion that her meat would taste better than any other type of cattle.

Randy stopped at a red-light and shifted his hand from the gearstick and placed it in her palm. “You can protect Anetta and give her anything you want Cassy. No one wants you to sell out and become a monster.”

Cassandra stopped worrying about Violet for a moment. “Randolph Kennedy are you making a move on me?” The question was rhetorical, and had Cassandra an ego she would have been proud at how she handled herself in such sociopathic stress. She opened her palm and slide it from beneath Randy’s.

Randy looked bemused, but proud he understood the playful detachment from his charms. He turned his gaze back to the road and chuckled. “God I want to eat you Cassandra Blake.”

“I guess you’ll have to settle for Violet.” Cassandra said feeling more comfortable and putting on her game face. The fact that she could be vulnerable with Randy made her feel like she wasn’t alone. The appeasement from her stress pushed her fatigue back and she could think clearer.

“Was Gredlar upset he didn’t get to eat Violet?” Cassandra asked in character.

“Yeah. He’s roasting what’s left of Dakota tonight in our oven. I guess we’re going to have to find him another pet.” Randy briefly turned from the traffic and smiled happily at Cassandra.

Cassandra smiled back. The strangely lighter conversation highlighting the intimacy from before as “To be continued.” Cassandra was going to figure out how to short circuit his fetish for unnecessary surgery if it was to go any further. The idea occurred to her that this may be what Gia wanted; Randy and her together. Two pawns on the Societies board.

Randy indicated on a straight bit of road and Cassandra guess they were driving through the wrought iron gates up the drive to the stately building that looked as old as Harvard. As the traffic gave way and Randy tuned in she could see undistinguished valets waiting to greet them at the base of the entrance stairs. At the top of the stairs before an open door stood her Mistress Gia in a red evening gown, beautiful and terrifying in her prowess. She knew red meant Dalton would be attending.

As Randy opened the door for Cassandra she slinked out and headed straight for Gia who looked at her like a lioness. “Cassandra, just when I think you can’t get anymore lovely you do this… And on such short notice.”

Cassandra smiled at the complement; genuinely put at ease her Mistress was pleased with her. Dourest and reward for correct behavior had had a strange effect on her psychology. She did in every sense love her Mistress. “I’d say you look beautiful, but you always look beautiful Mistress.

Gia gave a small smile, the best she could under the circumstances about to be revealed. As they walked in the front door the scene behind them played out as Violet elbowed one of the Valets in the face and managed a step and a half in a run to freedom before Randy quick drew a tazer and stunned her. She flopped helpless to the paved driveway, her fight over.

“The people here tonight are VIP’s, but they are not my friends. I have invited all those in the country who oppose; or at some point, have opposed my position. My guess is the NCA reached out to several people including you. Those who are planning to take my place will most likely not attend this evening, but will be at the Autumn Estate next month. Keep your wits about you, and if you get into trouble find Dalton or I; Randy or his mother.”

Despite the weight of her brief instructions before they entered the lavish hall before them Cassandra’s ears pricked at one piece of information in particular. “Randy’s mother is here?”

“Yes.” Gia said turning to Cassandra as they made their entrance. “She’s curious to meet you. I don’t think Randy’s ever spoken to her of a female friend before. I think he has a crush on you.”

The conversation was interrupted by Dalton steeping from a conversation to great Gia. Cassandra’s Mistress looked like she had come home and despite the formal occasion to two kiss passionately before Dalton stole her away to a couple in a suit and evening gown with only a brief nod of acknowledgement. He was working. Cassandra recognized the man they were addressing from the news; a Republican power broker, he forced a smile as Gia joined them. It reminded Cassandra of the many functions she had been to with her father after her mother had passed away. Not wishing to cause scandal by dating she had been dragged along as his plus one and learnt many life lessons listening to the conversations. From a brief glance at the four she could tell they were negotiating some deal.

“You’re not wearing white gloves Cassandra?” The strong female voice came from her left shoulder and she slowly to appear collected to view the individual who addressed her.

Curled dyed hair, pearls, a dress denoted wealth but not flaunting, and the remains of a once beautiful face. Cassandra could see Randy’s eyes smiling at her through gold spectacles. “Mrs. Kennedy I presume.” She stepped forward offering her devoted attention as a sign of respect. She extended her right hand a softly shook hers for slightly longer than was necessary. Cassandra felt best to show on first impression that she was indeed eager to meet with her. “I can’t tell you what a help your son has been to me since I was introduced into the Society.”

“Really. How so?” Mrs. Kennedy (Evelyn Kennedy) tested, suspicious like all people from status of an admirers intent.

“He has resources, and he’s honest to me.”

“Yes.” She said her eyes narrowing. It seemed that the word “honest” had struck a chord. “Randy says many things, but honestly from him is reserved to those special to him.”

Cassandra smiled in the appropriate manner to show he would not cause any social fowpars with her son.

“Come let’s get you a pair of gloves before one of the guest mistakes you for dinner.” Evelyn turned and Cassandra followed her to an adjoining hall where she summoned a valet to retrieve a long pair of white gloves for Cassandra to wear. As they arrived Evelyn presented them to her, “The trick is to keep them clean. Any stains are bad form, and tell your Mistress as long as you keep Randy on track she’ll have no trouble from any of the Kennedy’s.”

Cassandra dipped her head and curtseyed as Evelyn Kennedy took her leave and rejoined the party. Cassandra slowly put the gloves on. They were soft and fitted snuggly. She looked at her hand in them. They were a secret symbol of power over the life of the unremarkable outside the Society. She heard Violet cry out from a nearby double door and realized she had come to in the kitchen. Cassandra took moment to collect herself. If these people were Gia’s enemies then none of them were her friends. Composed she walked back into the hall ready to help her Mistress fight for her life.


Chapter 8.



The last time Randy had been in the kitchen of this hall a Southern bell had been coaxed out of shock to be spit roasted by a French master chef who was famous for producing exquisite forbidden cuisine. This time the assistance were not on hand to restrain the selected meal, but were busy mixing dipping sources and decanting them into small ceramic bowls to be placed in front of each of the guests. Violet had already been washed and glazed as she lay unconscious shackled to the silver tray; raw; naked save for a silver ball gag to muffle her waking screams. Randy did not deny her figure was near perfect. A tanned, firm, and athletic morsel whose beauty complimented the importance of the guests at the occasion.

“I’ve never heard of this being done before.” Randy challenged, not doubting the chefs skill but annoyed at the lack of respect he seemed to have for Randy who had bought him the main ingredient.

“First time.” Shin Ichi the Japanese Master Chef said sharpening his blade. Pausing in the act he tested the seven inch blade on a raw chicken at hand. The blade carved through the flesh and into the bone. Satisfied it was sharp at shouted in Japanese for one of his assistance who dutifully came and collected the blade for washing, to remove the impurities of the lesser meat.

“Things can go wrong the first time you do something.” Randy protested.

“It will work” roared Shin Ichi and slammed his fist into bench. The multitude of assistances seemed spurred on by their Masters anger.

“Ok. I’ll give her the clotting agent so she won’t bleed out, but if something you haven’t thought of happens, it’s on you.” Randy took out a satchel containing two needles from his jacket pocket and selected one. Gently, and with the skill of the finest nurse, he injected it into her forearm. He put the needle back in the satchel and pulled out the second one.

“What’s that?” Shin Ichi said annoyed that something was going on in his kitchen he wasn’t in control of.

“This, my Shinto friend is desoxyephedrine. If you put a clotting agent in someone and then put them through trauma, their heart might stop, or more likely; they’ll go into shock and be poor dining entertainment.” Randy placed the prick of the needle in the same place and injected it slowly. Before he had even finished Violets jerked into consciousness and screamed in horror through the silver ball gag. The Chef's assistances seemed nervous but did not falter in their tasks. Randy turned and walked out of the kitchen. Shin Ichi eyed Randy angrily as he left. Violet struggled against her restraints. A moving target would make the carving a little more difficult.

As Randy walked out of the double doors to the kitchen he saw Cassandra standing offside before an arch that led into the main hall. She was finishing putting on a pair of elbow length white gloves that both contrasted and complimented her black dress. Randy, unnoticed as she performed the task took a moment to marvel at his friend’s beauty. The moment was short because she Cassandra was always alert and sensed his viewing her. As she shifted her head to identify her observer she smiled sweetly, as if Randy wasn’t a prince by status, nor a monster that tortured and butcher girls. Just a friend she’d come to a party with.

“Your Mother approves our friendship.” Cassandra said viewing her hands in the gloves.

“She gave you those.” He said trying to be brief.

“Yes.” Cassandra stated and turned to reenter the hall.

Randy briskly walked to her side. “Dinner will be ready soon; we have to inform everyone to take their seats.

Cassandra was slightly baffled. “How’d they cook her so fast?”

“She hasn’t been cooked. We’re having sushi.”

Cassandra remembered the time at Dalton’s Manner when the House Keeper, Jasmine, had be bought live and raw on a platter and carved for the Hibachi’s. She knew this would be a similar sequence of events, and was grateful she would not be reacting to a new experience of decadence. Collected, and confident to take charge of Randy having met his mother, she said “You work the room Counter-clockwise, I’ll go clockwise.” The pair, the youngest attending, broke away in understanding and approached the small groups of the elite and offer apologies for their interruptions and advised them dinner would soon be presented. The news was good, so their baldness at approaching the conversations was reciprocated with smiles and thanks. Signs of civility and the rules of etiquette we’re mandatory even for the crowd of her Mistresses enemies.

As the guests and hosts took their seats Dalton sat at one end championing Gia who sat by his side on the right and Cassandra next to her. At the other end of the table sat Evelyn Kennedy with Randy. Though Cassandra recognized that many of the guests sitting on the wings had more power in America and the world at large, Dalton and Evelyn had the power within the Society. No sooner than the final guest had taken his place and a parade of assistance to the chef marched out with trays carrying ivory chopsticks and ceramic bowls of dipping sources. The Master Chef Shin Ichi (whom Cassandra had not met) paraded out in front of four more assistances carrying the restrained Violet on a silver tray, shackled stretched. She sounded muffled wails of fear. Had she know what came next, it would have been screams of horror. The guests at the table buzzed in excitement at her distress.

“What are these sauces?” A Texan voice sounded as Violet was placed in the centre piece. The man was holding one of the ceramic dipping bowls curious as to its function.

Cassandra looked to the chef who looked disgruntled and gambled on the response. “It Karashi, a type of mustard sauce used in Japanese cuisine, primarily rich meat. It is mixed with a mayonnaise when used as a dipping sauce. The other you will have heard of, it is Wasabi. Wasabi has a very strong flavor and it is considered an insult to the chef to add too much as it steals from the flavor of the meat. A slight smear is acceptable. You may use as much of the Karashi as you like. It complements the flavor rather than over powers it.”

Cassandra finished and bowed her head to the chef who stood posed over Violet. The guests were silent, taken aback by a junior member’s knowledge of a meal foreign to them. The Chef bowed whilst holding his knife at the accurate assessment of the dishes, and Violet went ghostly pale as she realized her fate (sadly unable to grasp the suffering bound to it). The matter was put to rest as the chef Shin Ichi bowed to the guests and made an incision across Violets closest thigh. As her gagged screams sung to the guests Gia placed her hand in the slit in Cassandra’s dress and glided it up caressing her thigh. Gia was pleased. In front of them Violet was furiously tugging on her restraints, her belly arching in agony as Shin Ichi slowly drew a paper thin cut of a rectangle around her thigh. Task complete he used the point of the blade to curl a corner. With his free hand he clasped the skin and pilled it away from her leg like he was pulling the back of her sticker. Violet howled in agony and Cassandra became aware that half the dinner would be the spectacle of Violets intense suffering. One of the guests leaned forward as poked her nipple with a chopstick. The childish act broke the tension and bought hearty chuckles of laughter from the table, expect either head. Dalton, Gia, Cassandra, and Evelyn Kennedy seemed above the immaturity.

As Shin Ichi the Master Chef pulled back Violets olive skin, a rectangle of ruby flesh laid exposed. The clotting agent meant that little to no blood wept from the wound and Violet had taken to panting quickly in an attempt to control her pain. Shin Ichi placed one hand firmly on Violets pelvis and pushed down steadying her. With skill a precision her glided the blade in his other had over the exposed flesh cutting a paper thin slice of her muscles. It curled as the blade ran along the area to be harvested. First sample taken Shin Ichi balanced it on the blade and presented it a tray held by an assistant. Prize in place he walked to Dalton who picked it up with the ivory chopsticks and placed it in his mouth. The guests were silent, waiting for his appraisal.

He hummed, vocalizing a pleasing taste. “You’d think it would be chewy being raw. But its cut so thinly sliced it just dissolves in your mouth.” As he finished talking the guests seemed eager to try it themselves. Chatter broke out.

Cassandra realizing her voice would be muffled by the chatter leant over to Gia who was still coaxing her thigh. “This is going to be a very long dinner isn’t it.” She said assessing the time it would take for the Chef to harvest enough meat for everyone to be content. At the back of her mind she knew Violet would suffer more than any other woman she had eaten. The ones who were cooked had the benefit of their nerves burning out.

“Yes Cassandra. It will take some time, but it will give us a chance to interrogate everyone here and get an idea of who else the NSA approached. It may not be someone here, but someone will be in the same circle as them.”

Cassandra leant away from Gia and looked down the table a Randy sitting patiently next to his mother. He winked at her. Cassandra gave him a smile, but was distracted by another sample being bought to Gia next to her. As she looked at the helpless Violet the prey stared at her in an intense plea for help. Cassandra knew there was nothing she could do for her so stared coldly back removing the possibility of her usually mercy being counted as a weakness. Her glance drifted to her taught stomach and it beautiful muscles contorted in agony. Cassandra’s brainwashing to the Societies practices kicked in as it had whenever she saw her favorite piece of the female form. When Shin Ichi came to cut her sample she would ask for a taste of her beautiful belly. For Cassandra to survive in her world, it was necessary.

Chapter 9. (The Other Side of Town.)



The client had turned. Well spoken and well groomed attractive men sought prostitutes not for sex (for they could get that for free) but for delinquent trysts a women met in a bar or coffee shop would not stand for. The fact that Beth was with her had offered some security to Kat, but his vigorous insistence was not sated and their pimp was not on hand as with alley jobs. The hotel meant they were vulnerable to the client’s whims and security in numbers had failed as a defense.

“You’re friend took it and she’s fine.” The man insisted. He hadn’t undressed. Since coming to the roadside motel room he’d asked the girls to strip and get on the bed. Threesomes meant only one of the girls had to work. Few men had the endurance to have sex twice; they just liked the notion of having more than one woman want them. Once on the bed they waited whilst the man looked at them. From his pocket he took he took a pill container filled with soluble capsules containing a blue powder. Beth, an addict of several light drugs had taken the pill hoping it would be a Xanax or Zoloft.

Beth had come to the city to make it as a model, coach surfed when she’d lost her place and finally started sleeping with guys for a place to stay and breakfast. By her own bad luck she’d shacked up with Gator, a pimp and dealer, who’d, got her use to recreational drug taking and partying. By the timed he’d asked her to contribute to his household income her principles had been lowered to accepting money for her body. The work had not haggard her looks and Gator charged extra for her services, which to be honest were accompanied with the lack of expertise that go along with a healthy upbringing. She was average height, English in appearance, but had a sinful body. Used to partying with clients on drugs, she’d happily taken the blue pill.

Kat was hesitant. She was attractive, with larger breast, but her body was softer than Beth’s from a hard life which included heroine. Two years on the wagon, she was no saved soul worshipping Jesus, but she had steered clear of narcotics, and now she was being firmly told to take them.

“What is it?” She asked, staling, trying to think of a way to back out of the situation.

“It doesn’t have a name yet. It’s new.” The man held the pill between his finger and thumb and extended it towards Kat.

“I don’t want to take it.” She said fearful of the potential force the man might wield is pushed to far by refusal.

The man snapped. The threw the open bottle of pills at Kat hitting her on her right breast it stung and she flinched and scurried back from the edge of the bed, away from the man. Her fear was interrupted by Beth who slothenly placed her hand on Kat’s thigh. “Just take it Kat. It’s dreamy.” The softly spoken words were accompanied by Beth curling up like a cat. The pill had obviously put her in the mood for sex and she didn’t even seem to mind the aggression of the client.

Fearing violence Kat picked up one of the spilled pills from the bed and slowly lifted it to her mouth.

“Don’t worry Red” the man said distinguishing her by hair colour, calmed by her consent to his demand. “I’ll pay you both double. You don’t even have to tell your pimp. You can pocket it.”

Kat swallowed the pill. She entered the terrible moment just after taking a drug. Something was about to happen to her and she would have no control over it.

The man sat in a chair near where he was standing away from the bed. “Let’s just let it kick in, and you two lovely young ladies tell me how it makes you feel.”

“That’s all.” Kat said, relieved at the end to the threat.

“That’s all.” The man said and pulled a note pad from his pocket.

“If you’re not going to fuck us why are we naked?” Beth slurred the words clearly inebriated; a preview of what Kat could expect in a moment.

“Because you’re both so pretty.” The man said and smiled.

Beth chuckled, and her laughter caused Kat to giggle slightly. The drug was starting to affect her too.

The man tapped his pen. “Ok, I think we can start.”

As the man was the only animated object in the room he had the two influenced girls devoted attention.

“Brunette” he said addressing Beth. “Do you feel like having sex?”

Beth giggled. “Yep.”

“And what about you Red, you would you like to have sex?” He said addressing Kat.

“I don’t… I don’t know.” Her head felt light, she was aware of the question but she was completely relaxed. She wasn’t answering as though she was a working girl. She was being honest. “Do you want me to have sex?” She asked, confusion creating dependence of the stranger.

“I do.” The man replied like a salesman’s.

“Then yes, I do want to have sex.” As she spoke Kat opened her legs. A shiny film was forming at the lips of her labia. Her body reacting to the insinuation of intercourse. The mental effects of the drug were having a physiological response. Kat lowered her hand to touch herself.

The stranger held up his hand for her to stop. Kat responded as if ordered, halting in the desire to pleasure herself. “Questions first.” He said and Kat relaxed, attentive and submissive.

“Brunette. Would you object to me tying you up?” He continued.

Beth shook her head, clearly enjoying her head swimming in the narcotic.

The man didn’t push for a verbal answer. “And you Red, could I tie you up.”

“If you want.” Kat said. “Whatever you want. “ She knew what she was saying, that she was submitting, but it offered peace to do so. To express a concern at his desire seemed a task like Sisyphus’s.

The man broke from alternating questions. “Red.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled a sterile needle (the kind used by doctors to puncture boils). “I want to pierce your nipple with this needle, do you mind?”

Kat knew the answer should be no, but the man wanted to do it, and what he wanted seemed strangely important. “No, I wouldn’t mind.” She answered politely.

The man rose and walked over to Kat. He caressed her breast and slowly ran his hand down its side. Place that hand under it for support. The other hand, gently pointing the needle, moved slowly to Kat’s nipple. She flinched as the tip indented briefly, and then punctured into her breast. Kat grit her teeth, but did not move away or try to repel the mild torture.

“Does it hurt?” The stranger asked Kat.

“Yes.” Kat bit her lower lip.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked again, drawing the needle out and pushing it back in again in a rhythmic motion.

“No.” Kat strangely confessed. The man had already indicated he wanted to do it, why should he stop.

He pulled the needle out. “Good girl.” He said, and without even asking repeated the exercise on Beth. Coming from an easier life she experienced greater pain, but also seemed more eager to please the man. As the man, leaning over Beth, pulled the needle out, a locket of his hair fell forward out of place. Beth rose and affectionately put it back in place for him. She wanted to please him.

“Would you ladies pick up all the pills spilt on the bed and put them back into the container for me?” The girls obeyed searching carefully not to miss one and then Kat handed him the jar he had but minutes ago thrown at her in anger. “Now girls, before I leave you I have one very important question for you.” The man was standing and putting on his coat, the notebook he left behind was obviously it was just for show. He had the information he had come for, there was just one thing to be certain of. “Would either of you object to me cooking and eating you alive? Or anyone cooking and eating you for that matter?

Kat knew the question was strange but she just wanted to please the man, and everyone for that matter. “No. If that’s what you want.”

Having got the answer from the more cautious of the two he looked over at Beth with little interest.

“You can eat me now if you like.” Beth offered, then stretched out on the bed and started fingering herself.

The stranger smiled. “Good night ladies. Thank you for your co-operation.” The man walked to the door and then, as if in after thought pulled out the jar of pills he had put in his pocket. He funneled two out and left them on the night stand. “When you wake up in the morning take one pill each and go to this address. He produced a business card with an address of a meat packing plant by the dock on it. “Tell your pimp you’re visiting your parents if he calls.” He left the room.

Once outside the motel room he reached for his phone and dialed the number of a person he didn’t want to disappoint. “Good day Charles” he said into the phone. “Is Gia there?”

“No” came the voice of Charles, Gia Eros’s personal driver. “Mistress Eros is at an important function and cannot be disturbed.”

“When it is over, please tell her that the little pharmacological project she was funding is yielding positive field results. Cattle collection has just come a whole lot easier.” He hung up the phone and walked to his car. Tomorrow the two prostitutes would rise, take the pills and head to the docks were they would be sent to Spain, and if given continued doses of the blue pill, willingly be eaten.


Chapter 10.


It was twenty minutes to the third hour of the banquet and Cassandra had seen Gia’s plan unfold. By this time Violets mind had unreeled and her head raked from side to side in delirium of pain. Her thighs had been harvest to the bone and only a thin layer of flesh from her belly remained to cover her innards. Cassandra had intrigued other guest with her request for meat from her firm tenderloin, much to their victim’s detriment. The civility of the quests had been tainted with copious amounts sake served through the long meal. Real sake was drunk before samurai’s went into battle because it added fire to their temper, and in a similar manner the quests issues with Gia came to the surface. Gia acted at first every bit as drunk, flirting with veiled threats and innuendo with counters of desires being sated come Autumn. The overall effect on the vexed but lucid minds of her enemies was that Gia was reasonable and generous. Cassandra wondered how powerful her father might have become had he Gia’s forbidden resources and nerve to sit in a room full of enemies. The trick, which she; and she guessed Dalton, were privy too, is that their sake cups were being filled with water.

Finally the breakthrough came when the man to Daltons left blurted, “It would be great if you could do all that, but isn’t the NSA moving in on your little project?”

Gia’s eyes flicked over the room quickly before pondering the man’s statement. He was rich by inheritance and so not used to playing politics and the subtle jerks and break in mode of four of the guests revealed those who were privy to the threat. Cassandra knew it was no accident the weakest player sat opposite Gia, to Daltons left. Cassandra not believing she could be a convincing drunk whilst trying to read everyone in the instance their drunken poker faces was down focused solely on Evelyn Kennedy who looked seemingly startled at the news. At the very least her friend’s mother was not in on the plan to overthrow her Mistress, which would certainly see her served as dinner.

As Cassandra had gazed on one person, Gia had honed in on the four whose reaction showed knowledge of the issue. All American; all holidayed every year at the Autumn Estate despite their disapproval of Gia. Gia now knew the agent, or agents would be there come Autumn and that the individual/individuals were known by the four. She had already begun overlaying circles of confidence the four were privy to come up with a name that could pull of a coo. “My dear friend” Gia said answering the man after the instance of revelation. “The NSA has but to talk to me about any issue they have.” She turned her body to Dalton and placed her hands on his knee. “Isn’t that right Dalton.” Her sober voice and movements portrayed a grasp of the situation in contrast to the others drunkenness. Her affection to Dalton sent a clear signal she had powerful support.

Cassandra could not be certain if Randy was trying to help but he broke the effect of the scene before it went on too long. “Let’s have some more meat Shin.” He said, as if trying to lighten the mood.

Gia had what she had come for. “You would insult the chef if you gorged yourself Randy. Japanese cuisine is meant to nourish, but leave you wanting more.” She turned to Dalton and smile. “I think we are done.” She said in success.

Cassandra took the opportunity to rise. She extended her hand to Shin Ichi. A gesture that confused him at first till he realized she was asking for his blade. He surrendered it handle first, and no sooner than she’d grasped it Cassandra dashed the blade across Violets throat. Violets throbbing of pain turned to a momentary jerk, and even the clotting agent couldn’t stem the loss of blood from such a serious wound.

The guests were shocked.

Evelyn Kennedy rose to leave, unaffected by Cassandra honest act of murder. “Your girl has a conscious” she said to Gia alone though she spoke over the table. “None of us should judge it as poor form” followed, Evelyn’s words seemed to relax the guest, many of whom were still coming to the realization that they had been played when they outnumbered their adversaries so greatly. As they rose and dispersed, dinner done, Evelyn walked to Gia down the long table. “I like your Cassandra very much Gia.”

“Are you happy with Randy’s progress into the world?” Gia replied. It was obvious that neither of the two ladies were drunk, the pride in their navigation of the occasion outweighing the bruises to the other guests ego. “Have I made up for my indiscretion in the past Evelyn?” Gia asked.

“I’ve left a message with your intern”, she said referring to what she had told Cassandra earlier. “Good luck with your troubles Gia.”

Gia smiled and dipped her head. The dinner party was over. Cassandra laid the blade between Violets still breasts as if she was laying a decorated knight to rest. “If I may ask, what is the digression you two spoke of” Cassandra asked turning to her Mistress.

Gia sighed. “She was close friends to the Estate owner I usurped. She’s always been angry about the matter. Taking Randy under my wing was a peace offering to put the feud to rest.” Gia raised her hand and glided it over Cassandra’s check affectionately. “Come, we must see our guests safely off. Be sure to give Randy affection in front of Evelyn.”

“Yes Mistress.” Cassandra said having faith she had chosen the right side to be on. Gia had revealed a list of suspects in just over twenty-four hours. It seemed as though even a Government agency was no match for her.

“And prepare yourself. We will be heading to Saudi Arabia this evening to see Dalton father for support. Dalton represents the practical workings of the Society publicly, but his father is the one with the real influence”

Cassandra didn’t hide her shock. “But I have school. There’s an abducted ballet teacher in my basement.”

“All will be dealt with Cassy. Don’t keep Evelyn and Randy waiting. We will sleep and discuss the doubts you’ve been having on the flight.” Gia spoke matter of fact subservience to her decision considered mandatory.

Cassandra realized it was foolish for her to have though Gia wouldn’t pick up on her lifestyle doubts and mind set instantly. She smile and turned to her duty. She knew her role in upcoming events had loosely been laid out for her, but that she would have to perceive the path herself.


Chapter 11.


“My, you weren’t taken in lightly. She is spectacular.” Gia surveyed the still unconscious Kaley shackled to the basement floor. Gia knelt down gracefully and turned Kaley’s head to the other side admiring the symmetry which was so commonly associated with beauty. It was obviously she was refraining from touching her figure whilst dress, but Cassandra could tell her Mistress was just as attracted to her ballet teacher as she was. “We will have to make an occasion out of this meal.”

Cassandra doubts already having been vocalized by her Mistress didn’t hesitate to speak her mind. “I’ve decided not to eat her.”

“A pet then. You can tame her. It’s about time you learned how.” Gia rose. “And if you tire of her, she will make an excellent breeder. Her babies would be gorgeous when grown.” The inspection of
Cassandra’s first stalk seemed a deviation from the point of her visit to Cassandra’s home. Anetta could be heard through the open basement door collecting and packing things for the hasting departure from Massachusetts. Cassandra had told her to pack lightly; mementos and personal items only; everything they would need would be provided in plenty at the Estate or could be sent for. Gia pulled her slim phone from her purse. “Charles’s” she said, clearly speaking to her driver. “Bring the usual suitcase and apparatus for transporting a specimen inside. I have a package I want sent directly to the Estate.” She hung up without waiting for a reply.

Cassandra realizing Kaley would be transported in the same manner Anetta had been delivered to her removed the key to the shackles from her pocket and started undoing them to make his task easier.

Gia, still in her evening attire, didn’t seem concerned about keeping Dalton waiting in the car. “Tell me what triggered the doubts you’re having Cassy. When you ate Stephanie I thought you were well on your way to having a healthy appetite.”

After removing Kaley’s restraints Cassandra rose. “Randy’s room-mate kept a woman (what was left of one anyway) as a pet. She was pregnant and gave birth.”

“Did they harm the baby?” Gia said. Her tone indicated this would be a very serious offence.

Gia’s attitude to the topic reassured Cassandra. “No, it got collected for the Society, but it’s been born into slavery. One day that baby will be eaten. On top of that no matter how hard I try, I can’t set Anetta free. She’s determined to be a slave.”

“Slaves with no culture other than that of their Masters to aspire to: They either dream to be like the Masters, or dream of pleasing them. Anetta wishes to please you. Such was Anetta’s life that the liberties you have given her would influence her daughter slightly, and her granddaughter would be slightly more influenced. The weight of the environment and the natural way individuals surf Societies views mean that it is not like Django Unchained, not with anyone born into slavery anyway. No sudden outcry for freedom and power.” Gia using a pop-culture reference was unusual. Perhaps she was being efficient at expressing herself to Cassandra. “Just treat her well Cassandra. If we survive this threat and navigate away from conflict she may live a happy and contented life as your companion.”

Cassandra forced a smile at her Mistress as a sign, though not happy, her explanation was one that she would accept.

“And as for the eating……” Gia eyed Kaley’s exposed legs in the light dress she’d been ensnared in. “Can you honestly say you don’t want to eat this woman?”

Cassandra smiled again, this time genuine. “If I ate her, she’d be gone.”

Gia chuckled as Charles appeared at the head of the stairs carrying a large suitcase and oxygen tank. “You’re young Cassy. You tire of lovers; get bored with pets; but they are always tasty in the end.” She stepped aside letting Charles get to work. “If for the time being you have a conscious, then feel free to be a vegetarian of sorts, just not at public occasions” Gia walked to Cassandra and kissed her on the lips. It was a surprising act, a concrete sign of Gia’s attraction to Cassandra and perhaps an indication of how their relationship would evolve this Autumn. “I know you like to distribute impulses of pain (a polite way of saying torture).” This was true, on her first day with Gia she had discovered the thrill of hurting the pain slave Rosalita; and her experiences with Jasmine, Daltons former House Keeper had been empowering. “What you need to do is stop being selfish and interrupting others indulgences in similar acts. No more slitting throats at the dinner table.” The statement was accompanied by a firm look. “Check on Anetta, we must leave shortly.”

As Cassandra navigated the stairs out of the basement in her high heels she heard Charles address Gia. “Gentlemen called whilst you were at dinner Mistress Eros. He said your pharmacological investment had been field tested and given positive results.”

“Excellent news Charles.”

Cassandra made a habit of taking note of the hints of things she was not privy too. Later something might be said and she could put it into context and allow her pass a future test.


Chapter 12.



As Cassandra walked in her now painful high heels to the Learjet Anetta scurried alongside her, taking hasty short steps. Cassandra’s adrenaline from the tasks at dinner had worn off, and that accompanied with her footwear meant she could not help her little Maid carry their flight bags. Gia unencumbered walked ahead by Dalton’s side, marvelously showing not a single sign of fatigue despite having been awake as long as Cassandra. As they reached the boarding ramp of the Learjet a beautiful blond flight attendant stood in greeting, a smile any attendant would give on her face, but her eyes twinkled at Dalton with an expression that hinted she was familiar with him. Cassandra knew this was Dalton’s father’s plane, and she knew a sign of familiarity with Dalton’s charms was near fatal in front of Gia. Cassandra sighed. Her life at University had only been sporadically tainted by murder, but in Gia’s company she suspected it would once again become the norm, certain the implied past sexual encounter the flight attendant had had with Dalton meant she would soon served as a meal.

Before boarding Dalton leant past Gia and kissed the attendant on the cheek. “Kala how are you? You always look so spectacular despite being bound to this plane.” He must have known he’d just placed a noose around her neck.

Kala, easily six foot; Eastern European (most likely Russian heritage) was taken by the affection and Cassandra saw the same eagerness to please that she wanted to liberate from Anetta.

“I have all I need.” Dutifully Kala turned to Gia and extended the same smile, absent of sexual history. “Welcome.” She said in her station. Gia walked past without returning the smile and the pair bordered the plane Cassandra and Anetta following.

Cassandra had been on a Learjet before (though one smaller and less lavish than this), with her father whilst he campaigned. The wood and leather interior was similar, but the cabin seemed wider. This was no mere executive plane, but something that served as a means to entertain as well.

“The plane is fueled we are waiting for clearance from the tower.” Kala did not direct the passengers to any particular seat, but hierarchy meant Gia and Dalton took the spacious double seater facing each other over a retractable table. That left the forward facing columned seats for Cassandra and Anetta to sit in. Cassandra wanted to lie down on one, but Anetta, nervous to be in the company of Gia sat next to her. The pair were facing Gia who sat closer to the cabin. Cassandra did not direct Anetta to another seat happy for any sign of self consideration she showed.

Kala stood were all could see her. “With such short notice we were unable to obtain a proper meal for you. I hope that won’t be a problem?”

“We just ate Kala.” Dalton stated.

“Oh, but it’s a long flight.” Gia quickly followed.

Kala falsely secure in her safety misunderstood. “We have venison and fresh duck on hand. You will not go hungry. I’ll be back to serve drinks after take-off.” Kala dipped her head, a gesture common in the Society and took her leave to the back of the plane behind a closed door.

“I like Kala Gia.” Dalton said when she was gone. But it was a flippant statement. He knew the attention he had given her when boarding meant Gia was set in her path of removing her from the Societies service.

Gia smile. “We’ll pick you out a new attendant at the Alhambra.” Perhaps she knew Dalton merely wanted someone new to amuse him on his solo flights.

Dalton looked playfully defeated, but Gia leant forward and kissed him briefly, her affection clearly worth more than any servant’s life, Dalton moved on. “My father has lived a secular life Cassandra” he said addressing her across the centre of the jet. “There are some things you should know.” Dalton unbuttoned his tuxedo jacket to make himself comfortable for the flight. Women can conceal imperfections with clothing in his mind, so you will have to present yourself naked.” Gia rose and turned for Dalton to unzip her dress, clearly getting ready before they had even taken off. He complied and her Mistress shimmied out of her gown revealing her perfection. As Dalton continued Cassandra, not nervous about her nudity, toned and appetizing, after six months of ballet classes rose and had Anetta do the same for her. “He doesn’t approve of Gia’s position, which means he won’t approve of you; at first. You’ve managed to impress everyone with your whit and tact, your beauty just complements that. But be warned, though my father wants to make me happy he won’t hesitate to have you placed in the slaughterhouse should you displease him.”

“Is there anything in particular I can do to please him?” Cassandra asked completely naked and retaking her seat.

“Bring Anetta. Creating the Maids is a particular passion of his, he knows them all intimately (thoroughly and well studied, not sexually), he will be interested to see what you have made of her.” As Dalton finished speaking Anetta rose and pulled her summer dress over her head revealing her petite and youthful figure.

Cassandra caught Gia eyeing her Maids sex and knowing her Mistresses mind clear her throat. Gia smiled as if sprung and looked away indicating she was merely curious and had no intention of imposing her power over Cassandra to indulge in her friend/Maid. “She should keep the necklace you gave her on at all times. It will save her from the Alhambra’s servant’s autocratic nature.”

Anetta clasped the ruby pendant her necklace in her hand as if it was giving her some strength.

“And I?” Cassandra asked. “Do I need jewelry?”

It was out of concern for her Mistress (Anetta having been raised in the very place they were going) that she reached into Cassandra’s carry on bag and pulled out Cassandra’s mother’s necklace. It had been the only personal item Cassandra had liberated from her father’s place when Gia had almost a year ago slackened the leash and let Cassandra out into the world. Cassandra smiled at her little Maid and put it on.

The fasten seatbelt sign illuminated and everyone save Anetta who had never been in a plane responded. Cassandra then leant over and attached hers like you would for a child. The plane rose into the air and Cassandra realized she had abandoned her home and life of liberties to be at the hand of her Mistress and the current threat. Cassandra briefly wondered what her life would be like if almost a year ago she had not asked her father to come with him to the Autumn Estate. At the time the decadence of the indulgences of the wealthy seemed appealing, now she was indentured to the strongest woman she knew, one who ate beautiful woman as casually as eating an apple.

The jet started to move along the tarmac to the runway. Seemingly prioritized they started to accelerate almost immediately as they reached the end. Anetta reached out and clenched Cassandra’s hand as the g-force of the burst of speed sent them into the air. Cassandra loved the feeling as a child, but now it was a signal she could finally sleep. Before she did she leant over to Anetta and whispered, “If you’re nervous just pretend to fall asleep.”

Anetta nodded in understanding and reached for a pillow, clearly taking advantage of the opportunity to avoid interacting with Dalton and Gia; people who would eat her on a whim. As Cassandra lay her head against the leather rest of the cockpit and shut her eyes a great weight both lifted and fell. For the moment she could just rest and the weight of fatigue put her straight to sleep.

Cassandra was oblivious to the stopover in Spain. The suitcase containing Kaley had been removed from the cargo to be taken straight to the Estate. A middle man from the Society, most likely a lawyer had come on board to deal with flight plans and passport checks. His composure dealing with business had been tested whilst dealing with three beautiful naked women. Gia comfortable and authoritarian dealt with the urgent matters; Anetta who had been called on pretending to be asleep by Gia sat nervously; and Cassandra, oblivious to the whole matter in slumber. The man’s Two-thousand Euro suit did not conceal his erection as he left and the jet refueled to go on to Saudi Arabia and the private air strip in the heart of a desert.

Cassandra did awaken however as the plane was over the Mediterranean. A familiar voice sighed in ecstasy and she turned her head to the source. Gia lay along her seat, legs wide apart, Daltons head buried in her sex seemingly devouring her. His hands clasped Gia buttocks like talons, Gia’s flesh white where he dug in his clawing fingers as if she may try to escape the pleasure.

Gia’s eyes flashed to her awakening intern and a small grew across her face at the waking voyeurism. Gia said nothing and Cassandra was undetected by Dalton, their act of passion uninterrupted by the witness. Anetta breathed softly, genuinely asleep for the moment. Cassandra went to look away, but Gia arched her body toward her over the distance, exposing her belly; Cassandra’s favorite meat. The beautiful flesh offer aroused Cassandra and she watched, the muscles twitching as it gently rose and fell with the enthusiastic breaths of pleasure. Cassandra knew her Mistress was teasing her with her soft tissue, reminding her that she wanted to taste her. It was a game not to fall to deeply into or she would be like a sailor drawn to a sirens song; enticed then devoured.

Cassandra rose in her nudity, without disturbing Anetta and alerting Dalton and stood legs lightly apart. Now the game took a different turn. Cassandra widened her stance and arched her back so her vagina could clearly be seen in the light of the dim plane. Shaved, youthful and moist; Cassandra stroked it. Gia’s eyes flared hungrily and the pair, no longer in eye contact, looked at each other as meat to be devoured.

Gia came.

As her cry of pleasure woke Anetta and caused Dalton to rise Cassandra strode down the aisle to the back of the plane to freshen up for landing. She knew from experience that the restroom for freshening up was at the back of the jet, past the small kitchen. As she opened the door she was met with Kala hanging from the top of the cabin by her ankles like a piece of slaughter beef. The jet was too small for an oven large enough to cook a woman, but he passengers had managed. Her breasts had been removed (Dalton), her sex neatly carved from her body (Gia), and her left thigh had had raw meat sliced from it for cooking (most likely Anetta). The passengers had eaten whilst Cassandra had slumbered. Kala’s eyes were barely opened, but the gentle moans of agony indicated she was still very much alive, most likely to be kept fresh for the rest of her to be butchered upon arrival in Saudi Arabia. Cassandra’s eyes drifted to the carving tools and she brief thought of slitting the poor hostess throat to spare her further agony, but Gia had been clear; no more mercy killings. With a deep breath Cassandra navigated around the hanging piece of woman meat and head to the back of the plane.

With many hours sleep Cassandra felt ready to be tested yet again. In her history with the Society she’d proven to Gia she was worth more alive than as dinner; she’d won over Dalton; charmed a psychopathic playboy into seeking a life closer to the norm; and now she had to champion her Mistress to a man who created woman as if they were art. She used soap and damp cloth to freshen up and glanced in the mirror for a moment. Gone were the days were she had to stare to force a passable smile. She was firmly in control of her expressions now, and was learning to Master their selection to control the situation.

She walked past the meat in the kitchen and back out into the cabin. Their destination must have been close at hand from the restless mood she picked up on. “Anetta?” She asked her little Maid. “Could you please do my hair and makeup for our arrival?

Anetta hurriedly reached into a bag and immediately produced the necessary tools for the job. Cassandra sat in front of her and she went to work.

“Could you do mine next Anetta, please?” Gia asked as a courtesy. For Anetta’s compliance to the request was a given. The only drawback of Gia asking was that instead of enjoying the task, it would be done dutifully and with an eye to perfection rather than fun.

Cassandra could not question her Mistress on this however. She realized her ongoing endeavor for Anetta’s liberation had to be done on an intimate level first.


Chapter 13.



Without a flight attendant disembarking was complicated. The pilot, a gentleman servant hither to unseen, came back from the cabin and manually released the door. As he returned to the cabin he refrained from making eye contact as if he was out of place in the cabin. Cassandra saw Gia place on her heels and assumed footwear was a least permitted despite the mandatory nudity. She did the same and implied Anetta repeat her action with a mere glance of instruction. As the ramp unfolded for them to exit the jet they left the half butchered Kala on board. Dalton lead the way; Gia following in a parade of hierarchy.

At the base of the ramp stood a pale and sleek redheaded woman. Despite her nudity the air of a House Keeper was present about her. She had a mischievous, dominatrix’s smile on her face instantly read as someone who took pleasure at dishing out punishments. “Master Dalton” she said coming forward and curtseying. “You’re father is busy tending to the younglings, but felt you and Mistress Gia would be eager to inspect the next generation of Maids designed for the Autumn Estate.”

“That would be wonderful Iris” Dalton replied, naming the woman. Cassandra was not sure if the title of House Keeper was appropriate given that the runway bordered an immense compound. Its exterior looked typical of the stereotype of a mud brick Alhambra, but its interior showed neo-design buildings and flourishes of Victorian architecture. Cassandra wondered how they had kept it off Google maps.

Iris turned and started to guide them to the entrance without anymore formalities. The gate was guarded by two fit looking men armed with a type of machine gun Cassandra’s limited knowledge of weapons couldn’t identify. In her ignorance she was unaware that they were weapons of the non-lethal variety. The guard’s side arms were the ones to be used if faced with a threat greater than an escaping slave. A double solid metallic door automatically opened for them, triggered by an unseen controller hidden behind a camera and they moved without pause into the compound. The high walls and buildings shaded the grounds and the grounds keeping had no reflection to the desert sand outside. Green grass; statues and fountains; courtyards where beautiful young women performed calisthenics.

“Harvard would be jealous” Cassandra said under her breath taken aback by the opulence.

As the walk continued Gia addressed the Redheaded Keeper. “You can ask if you like Iris.” There was an issue that had not been spoken off or even hinted at, but Gia was aware of it. She liked things to be on the surface should they take a twist in the other parties mind.

“How is my former sister Lilianna?” Iris asked.

Cassandra immediately deduced that like the other Maids at the Estate were raised together, Lilianna had been raised with other House Keepers. Iris was obviously one of them.

“Perfect Iris. A small hic-up with eating a failed breeder without my permission, but she did so to raise moral.” Gia was honest.

“Lilianna was always subject to…. Hic-ups.” Iris commented, perhaps out of station. Cassandra deduced that there was a rivalry between the two Keepers. Perhaps all the Keepers had a competitive relationship.

“Oh Iris. If you were as magnificent as Lilianna, Geppetto would have sent you to usurp me instead of her. And you would have been much easier to bring under hand.”

The mischievous smile vanished from Iris’s face; vexed by Gia’s confidence.

The party rounded a corner and entered what appeared to be the frontage of a dormitory, similar to the Maids quarters at the Estate. Gia stopped and turned to Cassandra. “Cassy dear I have a task for you. Go two buildings down to the old building labeled Conservatory. That is where special servants are housed. Tell the attendant you are there on my behalf and pick out something exquisite. She’ll be a gift for a future friend of yours.”

Cassandra was confused. “Am I looking for the most beautiful or someone with a particular skill set or disposition?” If she was selecting a meal or torture victim for someone she needed to know a little about their tastes. The concept of Gia giving her a friend was not in the least strange and often proved fortuitous.

“Mature. That is to say out of adolescence. And select something you would find appealing. I want the person to learn a little about you from your selection.” Gia smiled and paused, and Cassandra knew this was the indication that they were interacting on a professional level at the moment. Dutifully Cassandra nodded and head down to the building as directed, Anetta following like a child scared of losing its mother in a crowd.

As Iris pushed open the door there was a flurry of silent activity and pink, soft skin darted about the room; off beds and away from windows, the girls (for though their bodies were mature and voluptuous) innocent in the adolescent independence stood in lines before neatly made beds. It was a scene out of a perverted boarding school porno, or perhaps the inspiration for one. The girls gracefully stood at attention.

“All are of age.” Iris said as she paraded down the column of girls at attention. Gia and Dalton remained at the head of the room, awaiting the time for inspection. “You can see Geppetto has moved away from the petite style into the more sexually developed.” Iris paused at one of the girls, her breast medium in size and perfectly curved. Iris glided her finger around the soft edge of her left bosom, daring the girl to break attention. “They are also more promiscuous amongst themselves. Seldom do they go through a night without visiting the bed of one of their sisters, if not more.” Iris had walked the length of the dormitory. “All are virgins; as always, but all are naively eager to discover Society sex.” At the mention of the word “sex” the girls wavered in excitement. They had obviously been raised to believe it was the pinnacle of life’s experiences and that they would soon be gifted it. The grin returned to Iris’s face. Were as Anetta’s generation of Maids were shy, it was obvious the next would be flirtatious and eager for physical attention; also sadly unaware of the consequences. “We have consigned the number requested plus two extras. I’m sure Lilianna will dispose of those not needed to make an example.”

“Thank you Iris.” Gia said with no trace of the tension from before. Dalton took a back seat as Gia came forward to inspect the young girls. Her methodology changed with each girl testing what subtle differences in personality she perceived; testing for limits and insecurities. As they smiled at their new Mistress she would either caress, testing for reaction; guide them to a more rigid stance (a test of reaction to instruction); or if their smiled hid their dentition even examine their mouth. She stroked each of the new Maids sex, testing for easy arousal. Once she had returned to Dalton’s side she barked “Turn left.” And watched as the future Maids, all of whom had done some marching, turned to their left. She was looking for individuals who were out of sync with the group in an attempt to deduce those who would not flow with the others at work. So far she was satisfied, there were no weak links. “Iris” she said walking towards the Keeper. “I’m going to need a full rundown of their proficiencies observed through their upbringing. Might I see the records?”

Iris turned and guided Gia and Dalton down the dormitory to an adjoining office. The girls were left standing at attention, unaware that a video camera in the office would seal the fate of any who broke ranks in their absence.



Cassandra found the building labeled “Conservatory”, but it was not what she expected. It looked like a Victorian Opium Den. It was clearly the oldest building in the compound and reminded her of Dalton’s Manor in exterior. As she entered the reception desk fronted a staircase leading upstairs like in a bordello where she guessed customers could sample their purchases. To either side were arches that lead to a large living area were female figures luxuriating in their nudity could be partially seen. The woman behind the desk looked at the unfamiliar Cassandra with a policeman’s eye. Her right hand was beneath the counter poised over an alarm. Only VIP’s entered the Conservatory.

Cassandra ignorant of the button, but sensing she was out of place she placed her hand around her Mothers necklace as a sign she was afforded some protection and most likely here in instruction. Her intuition paid off as the voluptuous nude woman behind the reception relaxed and after checking the outside camera to see if the guards were still in place smiled. “What is your business Servant?” she said, politely, not knowing who had sent her.

“I have been sent by my Mistress; Mistress Gia Eros, to select someone as a present for another party.” Cassandra did not approach the desk and Anetta hung back behind her. Anetta’s glances around the room indicated she had never entered this building in her eighteen year stay at the Alhambra.

“Of course. Please come forward.” The woman was a classic beauty, she had Anglo-Saxon heritage, but there was a hint of Italian present in her face. She was clearly extremely desirable and had grown into her body with shapely lines and soft muscle. Her breasts were magnificent and hung like two desirable moons. Clearly the woman had secured her life out of this very Conservatory by being inclined to professional efficiency and intelligence, and she had a beautiful speaking voice. Cassandra suspected she spoke a variety of languages to do her job. “What were Mistress Eros’s requirements?”

“My Mistress left it to my discretion, but she specified mature.” Cassandra said, hoping to elevate her standing in the woman’s minds.

“Of course.” The woman said as if she would check Cassandra’s story. “Intercourse; Torture; Snuff; or Food?” The woman followed directly.

“Pardon!” Cassandra said at a loss.

“Will the specimen be used for Intercourse; Torture; Snuff; or Food?” The woman replied and typed something. Strangely enough it was as if she was filling out a survey for marketing.

“Excuse me….” Cassandra paused, taking charge of the situation and waiting for the woman to give her name.

“Fleur.” The woman said. A French name for an English rose, it struck Cassandra as crass.

“Fleur, please understand my position. The person I choose, and the qualities they have will serve as my introduction to someone my Mistress is yet to divulge to me. I have no knowledge of how the slave will be used once gifted. My only concern is that my mind be made known through my selection.”

“I see.” Fleur seemed frustrated, as if this was not how things were done. “The girls here are for sale at a premium price and have been raised to be submissive lovers and victims. What do you like in your victims?”

Cassandra had not yet had a victim. Stephanie Benson had been killed for crossing her. She’d sentenced Violet to a horrible death, but Violet’s stupidity aided that. The closest thing she had to a victim was Kaley, who awaited a life of bondage at her hands. As it stood this moment she had never decided a class of prey.

Fleur dipped her head and looked at her as a subordinate.

Cassandra feeling pride, rose to the challenged of station. Intelligent in reaction, and she reacted correctly in instinct. “Authoritarian.”

Fleur’s face became perplexed.

I like Authoritarians made submissive (Like an elitist Ballet teacher to be kept as a pet). Cassandra didn’t know it, but she had followed the subtle design of Gia and taken another step to her station.

Fleurs voice was tinged unimpressed by the foreign concept. She resorted to stating the obvious. “We sell the most exquisite submissive in the Society. None are in Authority.”

Cassandra stood upright. “What about you.” She smiled and eyed the voluptuous and shapely Fleur. “I’ll take you.”

Fleurs eyes grew wide is disbelief. “You don’t even want to see the……” she didn’t finish.

“Do you answer to any servants?” Cassandra asked.

Fleur’s look of defeat exponentially increased. “N…No.”

“Then it’s you I want.” Cassandra turned and walked out of the building. “Make the arrangements for your transport to the Autumn Estate when Mistress Eros departs.” Without looking over her shoulder she walked out the door, the business taking only a few seconds. As she left one of the guards at the entrance came forward and offered directions to the dining room where she would wait for the others. Information obviously traveled efficiently in the compound.


Chapter 14


Gia seemed uncomfortable, and this unnerved Cassandra greatly. Her Mistress had ever been composed and confident in demeanor. Anetta seemed positively terrified as if even a breath out of time would result in her immediate slaughter. The disquieting effect of Geppetto’s silence affected all the visiting company at the dining table in some way. Cassandra knew she was not intimidated for she knew no history of this man who was solely responsible for the vast majority of the Societies progeny (which included Gia and Anetta). Dalton was at ease, but seeking some sign of life as the man was his father, but uncharacteristically he was not putting Gia at ease as the old man just sat silently looking at his guests in turn. Cassandra guessed his disapproval of Dalton’s love for Gia would be inflamed by Dalton championing her. Cassandra thought hard how to proceed but could not see any act she might take that would not be out of her station.

A curious thought occurred to her. If Geppetto disapproved of Gia, then perhaps speaking from above her station under Gia might intrigue him; or condemn her. “Forgive me Master Geppetto” Cassandra said raising her head and turning to him. “What is the correct manner to address you?”

Dalton frowned surprised.

Gia turned her head startled with shock. The only waver Cassandra had ever seen in her perfection.

Anetta cringed as if she would be carried off to the kitchen for her Mistress indiscretion.

The scene at the table froze again, each character holding their reaction to Cassandra’s simple question of etiquette. Geppetto sat at the far end of the table. Dalton at the opposite end, and like the banquet they had just been to in Massachusetts. Gia sat to his right, Cassandra to the right of her; trailed by the new and highly unorthodox Anetta to Cassandra’s right. The still figure of the Redheaded House Keeper Iris was the only one who moved. Naked, like all the women at the table she extended her hand to the drawing table at her side and gently picked up a slender dagger before moving towards Cassandra.

Perilous as the moment was Cassandra smiled as if innocent of any wrong doing. As The naked redhead past Geppetto so that he was in the peripheral of her vision Geppetto raised his hand. Iris stopped, seemingly indifferent to whether she would murder Cassandra or not. Cassandra wondered if the reprieve may only be to have her sent to the kitchen, but she new practically that would delay dinner. It would take them some time to cook her after all.

“Just Geppetto” the old man said, and the House keeper turned back to her station, replacing the dagger on the drawing table as she past it. “I have never had a title; they are reserved for those who work.”

“You don’t work?” Cassandra asked, clearly asking for an explanation as he was the most powerful man in the Society and created people to be what he pleased.

“It’s not work. It’s my calling. I was born to do it; it would be an effort to do something else.”

Cassandra smiled as if graced by the answer, and then resumed her position of silence, staring down at the table.

Geppetto was looking at Dalton as if he’d bought something interesting on his visit. Cassandra hoped Gia would be pleased, for the first time since she’d caught a sense of her Mistress; she was unsure how she would react once away from Geppetto’s disapproving company. But her fears were misguided. Cassandra’s baldness as Gia’s intern had lightened his condemnation of her Mistresses and the station she’d taken for that moment.

“What did you think of the Maids Gia? Did your inspection prove pleasing?” Cassandra didn’t know it but Geppetto addressing Gia had been a rare event since his son had fallen in love with her.

Gia dutifully returned to her graceful form. “They are a delightfully variation on your theme of the Maids. They will give our guests intriguing service and entice them to pay their funds for the Harvest to follow.”

Cassandra didn’t understand. The Autumn Estate had, when she was last there, a full complement of Maids. She risked speaking, unsure of how ignorance would be perceived after her baldness. “The Harvest?”

“Cassy…” Dalton was too familiar. “Cassandra” he corrected “has made incredible progress in nine months, but is still ignorant of many of the Estates functions. She has been participating in serving favors whilst gaining an education and induction.”

Gia seemingly happy for any chance to speak addressed the matter. “The current Maids will be requisitioned by guests who have been taken by their charms on the seasonal opening of the Estate and made subject to their whims. Afterwards, the New Year’s Maids come, ignorant of the event and resume the Estates duties.

Subject to guests whims meant terrible things.

Anetta was ghostly pale and the soft whimper that escaped her caused her great terror at the knowledge; dangerous for her station. She grasped the necklace Cassandra had given her, the only thing donning her petite little body, for protection.

Cassandra knew that even though the conversation was becoming equitable displaying concern for Anetta was foolish. She ignored her intellect and placed her arm on Anetta’s shoulder, the boldest form of comfort she dared offer.

“Oh Anetta.” Geppetto bellowed. It was a revelation to Cassandra that as a Master slave maker Geppetto knew everyone of his creation intimately. “You have found a niche; surely you know you will not be involved in the activities of this Harvest. Are you perhaps worried for your sister Maids?”

Anetta was terrified into silence.

“Answer succinctly Anetta.” Geppetto tone was beyond misunderstanding.

“Yes.” Anetta whimpered not raising her head.

“Father” Dalton broke in. “We’re terrifying Cassandra pet.”

“She was born for this. Her sisters will pass on, but she should be pleased she can continue to serve.” Geppetto was relaxing and the option to hold court as judge over the coming meal seemed to be fading. “Did any of the other Maids find a niche?” He said addressing Gia again.

“Giselle showed great potential in the act of cunnilingus; unfortunately there is no place for her in the Estates positions. We can’t simply have her on hand solely to please guests, she needs a larger role.
Lilianna is too efficient at running the Estate, and there are seldom events creating openings.” Gia replied dutifully, inserting a boast of how well the Estate ran.

A tear rolled down Anetta’s check. Cassandra, more confident with the conversations mood leaned into Anetta and speaking softly into her ear said, “Whisper it to me.”

Anetta turned and perched to her Mistresses ear. “Giselle is my favorite.” Cassandra was startled by the innocent plea. It was also the first time Anetta had ever, to her knowledge, expressed a desire for anything.

Cassandra turned to Gia. “Mistress, I know now is not the time, but I asked Anetta to choose something she would like as a reward for her talents.” Despite the more important people in the room being neglected from the conversation there was an intrigue as if they were Scientists watching lesser animals act out a ritual. “Might I give Giselle a niche for Anetta’s sake?”

Gia, seemingly pleased by the attention Geppetto was giving the topic. “Yes, but you’re collecting a lot of pets Cassandra. You’re going to have to start eating them at some point.” It was a crass statement and not necessarily true to Gia’s opinion of Cassandra’s nature. But the three powers in the room all started to laugh, and in the distraction of their levity Cassandra kissed Anetta on the cheek and whispered. “We can save her at least.”

Anetta calmed slightly in posture. Only the observing House Keeper seemed vexed by the plebian victory. Cassandra turned and looked her in the eye. The thought of finding out whose station, hers or Iris’s carried more weight in Geppetto’s Alhambra occurred to her. She decided not to risk it and turned back to the dinner table.

Every dining room in the Society Cassandra had been too had double doors leading from the kitchen. As Geppetto’s opened she expected to see another beautiful woman on a silver tray, whimpering or pleading through a gag. Her surprise at the procession of waitresses carrying platters of vegetables and gravy’s seemed in direct contrast to the usual went undetected. Cassandra’s relief was short lived. The final server carried a long platter with a glazed ham, the origin of the meat unmistakably a woman’s shapely leg. Its owner must have had a beautiful body. It seemed the Alhambra had the resources of a preserving meats and making delicacies. Her vegetarian lifestyle would have to wait.

Conversations where Cassandra had sat at her father’s side as he campaigned for office quickly taught her that the powerful, like lawyers, used words in abundance. A question can never simply be answered by yes; no. At any cost someone may never say I don’t know. As the long pig ham was carved and the guests indicated to the servers their selection of the other dishes Cassandra saw Geppetto break from Authority. He addressed Anetta, like a grandfather would a grandchild, accepting simple answers but probing; genuinely curious of her adventures having been exposed somewhat to the real world and the liberties he’d discovered she’d been gifted. Anetta, afraid of the authority of Geppetto seemed to love the father figure. He had after all guided the direction of her life like a parent. Cassandra realized that through Anetta’s complete honesty to the man she was also becoming known to him. Dalton and Gia relaxed, the intimacy present in their talks showing as if they were allowing Geppetto to grow accustomed to it again after his initial disapproval. Cassandra realized that Geppetto didn’t object to them having their relationship, but perhaps he expected something to come of it.

Cassandra abandoned monitoring Anetta’s accounts of books she’d read and cartoons which amused Geppetto and began thinking. “Eureka”, she whispered. When the stories were put aside, when the decadence and politics were not being played the relationships were obvious. Geppetto, Father and Master. Dalton; son and heir to the Alhambra and all its responsibilities of raising the generations of servants. Gia; lover and Mistress who has a gift for guiding people along her designs.

Geppetto is unhappy because Gia will not give Dalton a child, the next heir to the Societies inner workings. Not only is she holding back, but she eliminates any other woman intimate with him.

Cassandra enlightened by her revelation surveyed the guests, ignoring the ongoing scrutiny of Iris, dagger still by her side. Gia had never spoken of a desire to have children. Neither had Dalton. Cassandra finally had an observation worthy of discussing with the Master Geppetto should she ever receive an audience. The party ate, and the food was delicious.

“There is a matter I would like to discuss with you.” Gia said as the China plates were being cleared after the meal.

Geppetto smiled, obviously expecting the matter to arise. “I know you do, but I have a different idea.”

Gia’s acclimation into comfort over the meal faltered, and again Cassandra sensed she was nervous. “Please Geppetto”, Gia said as if she was asking a father or priest for forgiveness.

“I will discuss the matter with your young intern. If you are, as your confidence suggests, proud of her she will champion your question.” Geppetto rose and head for the door behind him, not fare welling his son.

Cassandra felt the nerves of a test coming on. She turned and looked to Gia for instruction. Anetta mirroring her nerves at her Mistresses task.

Gia, let down, turned in haste. The window for Cassandra to follow Geppetto out of the room was short. “The names of those who sought his blessing in the matter.” She instructed and then tapped her on the shoulder to follow the man out of the room. Cassandra rose in haste. As she followed Geppetto out of the room Gia called, “We will mind Anetta for you.” A reassurance in thanks.


Chapter 15.


Geppetto wanted to walk. Achems razor suggested that was why Cassandra had followed him through his living quarters followed by Iris. Not being privy to the facts this man held it was possible there was something he wished her to see. They came to a door where the edge of the building should have been. Instead twin sliding doors like those in a hospital were pushed open and Cassandra walked into a laboratory with cabinets of drugs; operating instruments and tables covered in bleached white sheets. The lab was bordered with a window and Geppetto looked out it to a courtyard where several young and nude women stood around two girls, they appeared to be sparing jujitsu.

“Do you know all the House Keepers are trained to fight with great proficiency?” He said, either as preface or idle boast.

“No I did not know that Geppetto.” Cassandra said politely.

“They have been trained to overcome all the Societies servants in case of emergency. Even the strongest guardsman is no match for a Keeper. Iris here could kill you with ease. But Lilianna was better.” As he spoke Cassandra could feel the jealousy coming of Iris in heat. “I selected Lilianna for the Autumn Estate to usurp your Mistress, as punishment for Gia usurping its rightful Manager. She did not.” Geppetto didn’t seem frustrated. “Lilianna is getting older. In a year or two she will be replaced with a younger House Keeper, and my hope for her ascension will be gone.”

In poker, if you have a pair in the hand you go in hard early to discourage those with weaker hands. It does not mean a pair is a good hand, it just means you prevent others from developing better hands. “Geppetto, has anyone sought your blessing in overthrowing Gia.” A game of politics with Geppetto, if won, would see her served as dinner. Directness was required.

Geppetto ignored her. “I’ve heard stories about you from Dalton. He came here because you destroyed his House Keeper and he needed a replacement.” He paused. “Jasmine was bald; overconfident; and had a low threshold for pain. Did you know if it had accrued to her to break ranks she could have killed you as easily as Iris could?” Geppetto was trying to intimidate Cassandra. “How did Jasmine die Cassandra?”

“Badly.” Cassandra went all in. “If Gia were to have Daltons child would your opinion of her change?”

The Masters eyes flashed then narrowed. Cassandra had played the Red Heering early. She knew Geppetto would speak rhetoric and then make a proclamation avoiding the subject is given the chance. She had to have something to offer to at least create a negotiation “She spoke of this?” He said, as if perhaps Cassandra was blessed with knowledge above his expectations.

Cassandra sold herself. “I think Master Geppetto”, she added the Master to show acquiescence. “Gia removes all of Dalton’s companions and I don’t think you could find a finer woman than Gia. Rather than remove her, perhaps encourage her to have his child.”

Geppetto’s mood indicated he had already thought of this and countered his case, more than Cassandra would have gotten had she not made herself a player in the game. “See raises her profile in the outside world. She is photographed in Magazines; her name in print. You can Google her. The plebeians we feed off ask themselves, who is Gia Eros. They should not even know of her existence” He slammed his fist on one of the operating tables. “This is not how we operate.” It was becoming obvious that Gia’s magnificence had angered Geppetto. She had become more than he could handle.

“If you will not tell me who has sought your blessing in her downfall, then I shall take my leave.” Cassandra, not willing to risk any further anger, and more aware than ever before that it was only Dalton who prevented Geppetto from destroying Gia, bowed her head and moved to take her leave.

Iris blocked her path.

“Lay on the table Cassandra.” Geppetto instructed, seemingly calm now. Cassandra was fearful. She eyed Iris, and from the look in the Redheads eye realized any attempt to push past her would be a mistake. Under dourest Cassandra turned and slowly sat on the operating table, then lay helpless in front of Geppetto. “You are loyal to your Mistress. This is not a bad thing. I will ask you a question.” He paused. Cassandra knew control would always have returned to Geppetto and she had made her best play. “You impress me. Will you usurp your Mistress?”

It was not only the vulnerability of Cassandra physical position that caused the apprehension growing inside her; it was the knowledge she would displease him. “I can’t.”

“She has tamed you then. But I like you. As you said, you do think.” He nodded to Iris who understood like an appendage given impulse. “I give you a choice. Leave this room as you came in with no information; or leave with a hint of the most dangerous threat, and an itch.”

Geppetto’s choice of the word “itch” troubled Cassandra. Things Cassandra couldn’t deduce always troubled her, and they were few.

“Come dear it’s simple. Gia already knows who will try. After that dinner party back in America many were scared of even considering it. But there is someone who will try. Let me modify you, and you’ll get a hint. Just a hint, if Gia is as clever as you she will figure it out.” Geppetto stood above Cassandra comfortable in his position as Master.

“You already know she won’t figure it out or you wouldn’t tell me.” Cassandra replied.

“Maybe you could figure it out for her. Some chance is better than no chance.” Geppetto already knew Cassandra was submissive to Gia. If her relationship with her Mistress had been more mature she might have tried for independence, but she knew her dismissal of the deal would be reported to Gia and their bond would be fractured.

“I’ll take that hint.” Cassandra said trying to be bald, but her nervousness showed.

Iris didn’t hesitate to strap Cassandra’s wrists above her head. There were straps to fasten her ankles as well, but Iris just forcefully pulled her legs open and held them with the intent to enjoy Cassandra’s fight.

Geppetto reached for a pair of tweezers and then walked to a nearby cabinet. He removed a jar and opened it. Something was moving in the jar and he was trying to catch it. As Cassandra became more unnerved he exhaled in success, pulling what appeared to be a red wasp from the container. With it held firmly between the prongs of the tweezers he walked back towards Cassandra. “This my dear is the Insatiabilis Wasp. It’s has no venom, but injects hormones into female insects causing them to lay their eggs prematurely. The Insatiabilis Wasp then feeds on the eggs. It is a remarkable insect and further more has a most unique effect on humans as you will soon see.” Geppetto positioned the little red wasp so its stinger could be directed, and as he lent in between Cassandra’s legs she realized where it was being directed. “Do not take this personally Cassandra. You are remarkable as my son reported.” The wasp was so close Cassandra could feel the faint flow of air caused by the wasp rapidly flapping its wings. “Soon you will realize, this is a gift for your Station.”

Iris smiled manically and Cassandra tried to close her legs. Iris preventing any escape or change of mind.

“The hint you may give your Mistress is: That it is the last person she will expect.” Money paid, Geppetto directed the wasp to sting Cassandra’s exposed clitoris. It was a surgical act. Cassandra felt the prick, a spread of heat as if burnt coming from the tiny stinger. She inhaled in discomfort thinking this was the worst of it. As the chemistry of the wasp’s weapon took effect on the sacred bundle of nerves she immediately started screaming.


Chapter 16 (The Docks).



“You sure you ladies want to be here?” The cabby asked. He didn’t really care. He asked out of the habit people have of fulfilling the need to display courtesy. This is particularly the case when two attractive women, obviously drugged asked to be delivered to the meat packing district of the docks. In reality Chad, the taxi driver, knew setting these girls straight would be a hassle that would see his daily earnings plummet. Chad was an asshole, and they were whores anyway. As a reply didn’t come immediately he shook his head and drove off abandoning the two.

The women were confused, a side effect of being directed by the simplest suggestion. They had woken in a hotel room in a haze, certain only that they should each take the blue pills left for them and head to the address on the card. They hadn’t showered; they wore their working girls clothes and they stood in front of the gate wondering what was supposed to happen. Had they been in their right mind they would have realized it was a heavily fortified meat packing plant, and that the elderly black security guard walking towards them was carrying a pistol with an extend clip. They probably wouldn’t have been aware it was a Glock G38, or that this pistol was well out of the price range of a simple security guard.

“Help you lovely ladies.” He said politely. He had assessed there state of mind from the girls slow reaction to his approach. They seemed complacent to wait, but in need of his direction.

Beth just smiled and ran her hand over her neck displaying a sexual vulnerability.

Kat had only the simplest presence of mind and lifted the business card that had been left at the Hotel. She presented it to the Security guard. He inspected it and his mood shifted. The limp in his step, his slumped back from age, the polite disposition faded in an instance. The man stood proud and erect, clearly formidable having dropped his act. He’d been expecting the girls. He reached to his radio. “It’s them. You better come out and meet them; I don’t think they’re capable of following complicated directions.” He moved his finger from the trigger of the radio. As if he may be being watched he slumped forward again; his face resumed the non-chalant expression and he started his fake limp walk to the gate. “Follow me girls.” And of course, the girls did.

“It is a fact you can Google that 2,300 people go missing in America every day.” The Stranger from the night before came out of an office to meet the girls as they passed the gates. Seeing him bought some comfort to Beth and Kat, for they knew this man would not be like Chad the cabby asking who they were; where they were from; what teams they supported. This man asked simple questions and didn’t call them stupid when they had trouble answering. This stranger was nice. “And you two lovely ladies are about to become two of them.” The man was talking with absolute confidence that the girls couldn’t grasp the ominous nature of his indication. He started to walk towards a different building from the one they came out of. “On average about six to twenty girls are bought here every day from all across the country. And I’m not talking your run of the mill girls. I’m talking about the girls, who when you see their photo one the news, you think; Damn, I wish I was the guy who abducted her.”

Beth and Kat were at a loss. There was so much noise coming from all around them the Strangers confident tirade made no sense. They clung to each other’s inability to make a decision and the knowledge that this man would tell them what to do. Their faculties had completely failed them.

“Look here.” The Stranger said pointing through the open door of a shipping container they happened by on route. Three naked girls all just of age hung from meat hooks whimpering and shivering in distress. A man in waterproof overalls was hosing them down, washing away the filth of their captivity. “For some reason, even though we can get girls from all around the world, the people we work for love….. And I mean LOVE American girls.” His narrated tour had taken them to a small portable. He opened the door and let them walk through following closely behind. “And that’s where you girls come in. You are our Guiney pigs. Those blue pills you took, they’re going to make all this a whole lot easier.” The portable was a self contained kitchen filled with oversized appliances. “If you girls work out things will change dramatically. I’m talking; see a pretty girl in a bar, slip her a blue pill; she’ll follow you right to a kitchen. No more security and cages. No damaging the product, just fresh, willing meat.” Whether or not I become a very wealthy man depends on you lovely ladies answer to the next question.” The man to a graceful stance. “Would either of you mind if I cooked and ate you?”

Beth was at ease. She’d already answered this question. The drug did not diminish memory just the will to direct…… will. “Oh, you can eat me if you like. I mean, you want to, don’t you?”

“I do Beth. Thank you.” The Stranger turned to Kat.

“And what about you Red. Would you mind if I cooked and ate you?”

Kat, less taken by the drug puzzled. “Would it hurt?” She asked hopefully not upsetting the man she was dependant on for direction.

“It would hurt. But I REALLY want to do it.” The man’s expressions would be viewed as over the top, but the girls were not capable of distinguishing that. He was just exaggerating to make his point clear.

“Well, if you really want I suppose you can.” Kat looked at the clean laminated floor as if unsure, but she hadn’t resisted.

“Thank you ladies. You’ve been great.” He became serious again. “Red: he said talking to Kat, “you seem more hesitant so I’m actually going to cook you to see how much resistance you’ll give. “Brunette, he said smiling at Beth. “You’re a submissive little angel. We’re going to keep you on a regular dose for a while just to make sure there are no long term side effects.” The man unbuttoned his shirt and the girls stood puzzled. Realizing he hadn’t made himself clear he turned to Kat. “Strip Red, we’ve got to get you in the oven.” After removing his jacket he put on a white apron and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Kat was hesitantly disrobing. Her street walkers clothing didn’t take much to get out of but the portable was chilly. Goose bumps appeared over her flesh. “Don’t worry Red; you’ll be plenty warm soon. Just stand there and relax for the time being.” Kat complied. She felt no modesty, but place one arm across her breast and the other over her privates to hold off the chill. Massachusetts is cold this time of year.

The man walked to a giant wall oven and opened it, pulling out a tray. The struts that supported the tray were solid and looked like they could carry a lot of weight. With effort he lifted the tray onto the table in the middle of the room. “Hey Brunette” he said to Beth, learning her name clearly not interesting him. “Could you go into that cupboard over there and get me whatever oil and spices take your fancy.”

Beth was confused. “I don’t…. What takes my fancy?”

The man turned a smiled at her. “Your just perfect honey. Don’t worry I’ll do it. Why don’t you just take of your clothes and be more comfortable.”

“It’s cold.” Beth said, showing only the slightest protest.

“It’s what I want.”

“Oh, Okay.” Beth slipped out of her shows, her short skirt and halter top following.

The man went to the cupboard and picked a bottle of olive oil; rosemary; and thyme. “Come on Red. On the tray.”

Kat stuttered at the sudden command after standing idle for some time, but hastily climbed up onto the table. The stranger could tell she was uncertain of how to lie on the tray. Initially she curled up in the fettle position.

“Red”. He said playfully. “I’ve got to oil you. Lay on your belly.”

Kat complied and the stranger drizzled the oil from the bottle over Kats body. He turned to Beth who seemed eager for another command; some instruction on what to do. Already it was becoming obvious to the man that left to their on devices on the drug the girls would just stand idle.

“Come here and rub the oil in for me Brunette. I don’t want to get my hands sticky.”

Beth, now nude, stepped forward and started caressing Kat’s body, spreading the oil thinly over every inch of exposed skin. She ran her hands over her shoulders; down the length of her arms and legs; even into the creases of her buttocks.

The stranger sprinkled the herbs over Kats oiled body. “Ok Red, roll over.”

Kat complied and the process continued. Her body glistening Beth finally moved to Kats sex to lubricate it with the oiled.

“Wait a minute Brunette. We’re going to cook poor Red her. Why don’t you give her a little thank you present?” The stranger moved up behind Beth and whispered in her ear. “Make her come.” He stepped back, and obediently Beth began caressing Kat’s privates. Kat, inhibitions nonexistent on the drug, arched her body up into Beth’s hands aiding the act.

The Stranger watched the scene for some time. Kat’s breathed hastened more and when he read she was ready to come he lent over her ear and said. “Don’t come.”

Kat reacted by moving her sex away from Beth.

“No don’t fight her.” The man clarified. “Just don’t come.” Kat understood the instruction. The battle now came from within her own body. She writhed, her face contorted, she was trying to repel the coming climax. She started to moan and exhale in vexation as she struggled to obey. After a two minute battle holding back the inevitable the Stranger said. “Come.”

Kat’s body relaxed into the orgasm. Catching her breath and luxuriating in the pleasure of the narcotic climax.

“Good girls.” The Stranger was all business again. “Now Beth, help me get Kat here into the oven.”


Chapter 17.


Cassandra awoke craving something. It could not be defined as an irritation that woke her because it was not a bad feeling; not a first anyway. There was the urge to immediately sate the impulse and she reached to rub her sex. Her pussy was moist and her labia’s and clitoris itched. She needed to touch herself. As she went to fulfill the act, not yet aware of where she was she found her hands restrained. They had been shackled behind her back. She moaned in mild distress at not being able the quench the impulse.

A trusted voice soothed her. “Relax Cassy.” Gia, who had her sitting on her lap, gently reached around her waking interns thighs and gently caressed her.

Cassandra sighed in relief at the touch. It satisfied but she urged for more.

“Just a little Cassy. Others stung by the wasp have mutilated themselves trying to satisfy the sting.” Gia spoke calmly as if trying to settle a restless horse.

Cassandra arched her pelvis up into Gia’s stroking hand, trying to accelerate the motion. Temporarily, but only partially satisfied she now took in her environment. They were back on the plane. She sat on Gia’s, now clothed, lap. Her Mistress had one hand satisfying her new urge, the other around her beat holding her in affection. Anetta sat off to the side facing her, a look of concern on her face; and a row back Fleur, disgruntled sat staring out the window.

“Where’s Dalton.” Cassandra asked.

“Ever observant Cassy.” Gia complemented and changed the rhythm of her caress. “Dalton’s father saw fit to give him duties at the Alhambra. Convenient timing for Geppetto. We will have to make do without him.” Gia hugging arm grew firmer in a display of solidarity. It was a gesture Gia gave to Cassandra out of genuine care. Cassandra’s immediate concern was not with her current state of hyper arousal, but with her Mistress’s safety. Gia attend to Cassandra’s plight before seeking the information Geppetto had given her in exchange for her loyalty. “The wasp that stung you will change you. Right now you are at its mercy, but it will subside; some. Your libido will be increase; your clitoris will swell and become larger and you will have to battle the will to become a slave to desire.” Gia kissed Cassandra on her neck, drenched with sweet from the lust she was enduring. “I think he saw your wit as a threat, and sought to cripple you some; to make you manageable.” Manageable being handicapped.

Cassandra, hungry for touch as she was understood. In hindsight she should have realized anything she got from Geppetto would mean losing. “How long till I can…..” Cassandra didn’t know how to finish. In her current state she realize if her hand were free she would do little more than touch herself till her fingers and privates bleed; and then some. Cassandra wanted to do things, and was expected to do things for her Mistress.

“Eight hours to the Estate, then I’ll have the nurse put you under. You should awake to an ease to the initial reaction, but to the permanent effects then.” Gia beaconed to Fleur who sat down the planes cabin. She came obediently. With some maneuvering Gia shuffled Cassandra of her lap and onto the seat next to her. As Fleur approached Gia ordered. “Tongue’s are less abrasive than fingers. Cunninglingus for eight hours. I don’t care if you get tired, you will continue until the plane lands.”

Fleur, outside her usual duties, looked displeased, but as Gia’s property obeyed and went down of Cassandra whose sighs of gratification filled the cabin.

“Just last eight hours Cassy.”

Cassandra grabbed Fleurs head and buried it into her sex. It was more effective than Gia’s touch. With some presence of mind she tried hard to concentrate. “Geppetto said” she paused to sigh in pleasure, battling the impulse to indulge and the need to convey the information. “He said everyone you suspect is not the threat.”

Gia made herself comfortable to the side of the medical sex act. “Then who Cassy.”

Cassandra fought back a moan. “The last person you’d expect. He said you’ll never see them coming.”


Chapter 18 (Inside the oven).


For a moment Kat had direction. The Stranger had told her lay still as he pushed the tray into the long oven, but once the tray was in and the door gently closed she was at a loss. The drug didn’t affect her memory and she knew she was going to be cooked. It was okay, it was what he wanted; she just didn’t know what to expect. What is ones conduct when being cooked?

There was an electric hum in the darkness. Kat couldn’t tell where it was coming from but it sounded like it was from above and below her. A dim red light appeared in a strange pattern and comforting warmth came with it. She was relieved; she’d been cold since she’d stripped. The red luminescence grew brighter and the heat increased. The red light was forming a pattern and it made perfect sense. It was the element of the oven above her heating up. Kat was bathed in the warm and soothing light now, it made her feel happy. Like she had been told she lay still and waited to cook. She started humming a Lady GaGa song to herself content with the warm embrace.

“Hey Brunette.” The Stranger called to Beth who was standing watching the oven light up. “Do you know what the definition of stupid is?”

Beth was in no state of mind to answer, but she did know what stupid was.

The Stranger wanted to talk. Beth didn’t have the faculties to detect it but he was an arrogant asshole who loved to have power over other people and enjoyed putting them through discomfort. More than a sadist he was a Narcissistic Sociopath who only cared about getting off; not sexually, but from control. He was the perfect man to lead Gia’s project. “Stupid is a person lacking intelligence or common sense.” He reached out and crabbed her arm and pulled her away from the oven. Inside Kat could be heard, innocently humming a pop song, calm despite being in an oven set to 320 degrees Fahrenheit. “I don’t think you’re stupid because that little pill you’re going to be taking every day will make you do whatever anybody wants you do to. I think you’re stupid because you worked as a whore and when a client gave you a pill, and you didn’t even know what it was, you took it.” The man brought Beth’s body right up next to him. He ran his hands over her hips, enjoying her youthful firmness. “Do those sound like the actions of someone with intelligence or common sense?”

Beth had been under the effects of the drug for so long anything other than an instruction almost distressed her. “I don’t know. Won’t you tell me?”

The man kissed Beth, not aggressively, just on the lips testing to see if he was welcome despite knowing he was. “I think you are Beth, but it’s not a bad thing. People just like you are going to make the people I work for very happy.” He turned Beth around so she was facing the oven. “Take Kat in there. At the moment that oven is at about seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit. The oven is about two cubic meters in size; that’s 21.5 cubic feet. To raise the temperature of air in the oven one degree we need to apply 1.53 BTU’s of energy.” From his position behind Beth he started fondling her breasts. “Now I know you don’t know what a BTU is so I’m just going to say; if we put your friend Red in there with all that energy required to reach 320 degrees Fahrenheit embracing her body all at once. Poof. Every nerve in her body would explode, instantly. Her lungs would seer; her brain would melt as all her fat dissolved into a lipid soup.” He grabbed Beth by the throat choking her slightly. Beth started to object but he whispered “Stay still.” Enjoying having the power over her, controlling when she breathed. “Now on the other hand, if we heat her up slowly, her nerves survive long enough so one by one they flare and she suffers; crying out to escape; she grows week and passes out from dehydration after a little terror and screaming, which means her lungs don’t take in as much hot air and don’t see or fill with liquid because of the osmotic difference; and if we time it just right, when she’s nice a cooked; she’ll still be alive when we eat her.” He released his hand from around Beth’s throat. “Now that you know all this, I’m going to ask you again. Would you mind if I cooked and ate you?”

Beth didn’t know what she wanted, the drug made it so. “I don’t know” she said confused. “I mean if you want to, I suppose you can.”

The Stranger marveled at the perfection of his work. His little blue pill left the user open to suggestion even under stress.

It had become uncomfortable in the oven. The tray was getting hot and Kat was sticky from the oil. She didn’t have much room but she fidgeted trying to get some relief. Her head felt heavy like she was going to pass out, but the heat from above and below meant she could just relax and rest her head. All she knew is that she had to be cooked; she just wished it wasn’t so darn uncomfortable. She moaned for the first time. Verbal exclamation bringing some relief she did it again, but it was a losing battle everything she tried; tensing her muscles; grinding her teeth; crying out. Everything that help her deal with what was now becoming intense heat was defeated by the ever increasing temperature. She stirred, too violently and her nipple came in contact with the red hot element. She screamed and something broke in her head. She lost her senses and the screaming continued. Her mind started to tell her to get out of the oven, but it was over ridden by the clear instructions she had been given by the Stranger that he wanted to cook her. “In all fairness the man had said it would hurt.” She said in a mournful cry to an audience of just herself. The screaming took over again.

Outside the oven the Stranger pulled his pants off as Kat started screaming. He pushed her against the table in the middle of the room. “Okay my stupid little Brunette. She’ll be screaming for about twenty minutes before she finally passes out. In that time, I want you to give me your best, and I mean your absolute best, blow job.”

Beth didn’t even think twice. She got on her knees and started sucking, not oblivious to the screaming. The client crabbed her hair and pulled it. It was obvious he wanted the suction in sync with the peaks of Kat’s screams. Beth paid it no mind; she was incapable of discerning the behavior as sociopathic.


Chapter 19.


The rule about not using mobile phones on planes did not apply to Gia Eros. As her phone rang she pulled it out. She gave a concerned look to Cassandra who lay beside her exhausted and drenched in sweet but still very much in need of the explicate kiss Fleur had been giving her for the last two hours. Gia had lost count of the number of orgasms her poor intern had endured. The strain on her muscles had made them painful events now and Cassandra had tears rolling down her face as she endured the haze of lust.

“Captain.” She said moving away from her seat to get distance from the sounds of the sex act.

“Mistress Eros. I’ve picked up the shipment from the docks. Your cargo will be at the Estate slaughter House within the week save any delays.”

“Excellent.” Gia said all business. “How many in total?”

“Two hundred and forty six souls. We’ll keep them as perfect as their behavior allows.” The Captain was always honest. Sometimes the girls caused trouble on the freighter as they were transported to the Estate for the guest’s consumption. Examples had to be made and punishments issued.

“I understand. Any other news.”

“Yes.” But the Captain paused as if he didn’t know how to follow. “That man of yours at the dock, he delivered a strange scene.”

“Strange how?” Gia asked. She had some idea to the business but the man’s method of conducting it might prove a problem.

“He had a meal all laid out for me.” The Captain had said nothing out of the usual yet. He was often fed girl meat either port of his transit as he was forbidden from indulging on his voyage. “He woke her up as she lay to be eaten and prompted me to ask if I could eat her.” The Captains voice was concerned now. “The girl (known by both parties to have been cooked) told me I could…. She wanted me to eat her.”

Gia immediately understood that this was the pharmaceutical trial she had invested in. “I am aware of the reasons behind this scene Captain. Please do not speak of this to anyone.”

“Of course Mistress Eros.” The Captain state, composed and returning to duty. The Captain was in his sixties, and had been a Society servant his entire life. His long life span testimony to his trustworthiness.

“Did he give you any other packages other than the shipment Captain?” Gia asked.

“Yes. Some sealed cases of blue pills and a young woman. He said I am to give her one pill every morning and that she is not to be harmed. He said she is your assurance there are no side effects.

“Perfect Captain. Safe voyage. I’ll see you in a few days.” Gia hung up the phone. Her chemist friend, brilliant as he was, was advertising Gia’s surprise product. She didn’t even need to think on the matter. Once she had the product and the method of manufacture she would dispose of him.