Cassandra's Purgatory

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-11 19:50:05

Suddenly, the pain vanished, replaced by immense joy. The Earl 's
hand moved, and Cassandra asked, "Why do you inflict even greater humiliation upon me?" In Hampshire, a seemingly elegant and cultured building concealed a decadent and bizarre world of lust. When Cassandra was hired as a governess for the Earl's children, her original world crumbled. He led her into a game, a world of fear caused by desire and lust that could only be satisfied through pure obedience. The rules of the game were known only to the Earl; there, evil and pleasure were twins 　　. 　　**********
... As usual, at times like this, she would recall the words her ex-husband had said when they broke up. 　　"Cathy, you're hopeless!" he roared, throwing clothes into a trunk. "I should have left you years ago. Many men give up after six months." 　　"What do you mean?" she cried, but in her heart, she understood. She had always understood, she had understood on their wedding night, but she just didn't want him to say it. 　　"You're frigid!" Paul's voice echoed in the small house. Seeing her gaze, he felt the need to soften his tone. "Perhaps it's not your fault," he admitted. "Your parents are old enough to be your grandparents 　　. They never let you out of their sight for long. You don't know what life is all about, and I don't want to waste the rest of my life teaching you." 　　Cassandra briefly considered implying that her reaction was also due to his nervousness, clumsiness, and inexperience. But in the end, she remained silent. Regardless, Louise found him arousing. Otherwise, Louise wouldn't have seduced him. 　　As he reached the front door, Cassandra pleaded one last time, "Paul, what am I going to do? I've never worked before. I moved here directly from home. How am I going to survive?" " 　　I don't know. Just don't sell yourself on the street. Will you starve?" he said, showing no regard for her feelings. Their marriage was over. 　　"Miss, we're here," the driver said, and Cassandra snapped back to reality. She slowly climbed out of the car and onto the sidewalk. The car stopped in front of two iron gates, at least eight feet high, behind which was a gravel driveway that turned several corners and disappeared behind some tall trees. 　　"Seven pounds and fifty pence," the driver said impatiently. 　　Cassandra gave him a ten-pound note, and the driver drove off without giving her change. This was not a good sign. 　　The gate was closed. There was no doorbell. Cassandra looked up and saw a small security camera. 　　A flashing red light indicated that she had been filmed. As she stared at the camera in astonishment, the door quietly opened. Cassandra swallowed hard and stepped into the driveway. 　　Once around the bend, and the main road was no longer visible, the driveway straightened again, leading to a low Georgian house. It had many windows, many covered by European-style blinds. Looking around, especially after the hustle and bustle of central London, Cassandra felt an unusual tranquility, as if she had entered the countryside. She didn't notice a young woman looking down at her from a window on the top floor. Before she 　　could ring the bell, the front door was opened by a young, beautiful maid. She was dressed in a pretty grey and white uniform. Cassandra handed the woman the letter of introduction and said with a smile, "My name is Cassandra William, and I have an appointment with Deet von Wright at eleven." 　　The maid smiled but didn't speak; she gestured for Cassandra to follow her. Passing through a rather dark hall with parquet planed floors, she came to a small reception room. On either side of a magnificent marble fireplace stood an armchair, which she slowly sat down. 　　After the maid left, the door opened. A woman in a blue and white uniform walked briskly past Cassandra's sight and disappeared through the front door. 　　"She's another applicant," Cassandra guessed, despairingly believing she was far more suitable than herself to be the governess for the Baron's two daughters. 　　As she continued to wait, Cassandra realized the house was unnervingly quiet: no children playing, no footsteps, no conversations. If she hadn't seen the young maid and the departing woman, Cassandra would have thought she was alone. But in the Kensington office, during her initial interview, she had learned that the Baron had a mistress, two young girls, and a full-time staff. 　　Cassandra began to feel uneasy. Apart from the woman in Kensington, no one knew her connection to the house; if something happened, no one would know. Her parents were dead, Paul never wrote to her, and fear made her throat tighten. She stood up, suddenly instinctively wanting to leave, to get out of there quickly. 　　"Are you Mrs. William?" a deep, refined voice asked. 　　Cassandra turned around. Standing in the aisle was a six-foot-tall man with tanned skin. His blond hair was parted to the side, falling messily to obscure his right eye. His face was extremely round, almost childlike, but his eyes were disproportionate: large, wide-set, dark brown, with arched eyebrows. These features gave him a puzzled expression, as if he were ready to ask a question at any moment. His eyes were unusual, possessing an intelligence that Cassandra couldn't quite describe. Her carotid artery began to throb, and she felt a strange excitement. 　　He was scrutinizing her, examining her grey dress, her cream-colored turtleneck blouse, and her black hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. He saw her full lower lip and noticed her breathing quicken at his presence. 　　"Are you Mrs. William?" he repeated, this time recognizing the accent; the woman from Kensington had said he was from Austria. 　　"I'm so sorry, I really apologize. You startled me. I was just wondering if anyone else was in the room..." 　　He nodded thoughtfully, his expression serious. Suddenly, he smiled, a small dimple appearing on his left cheek, wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. That smile was captivating! Cassandra's heart pounded; she felt short of breath, her legs inexplicably weak, and she thought she might be ill. 　　"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting," his voice was gentle. "Do you know what happened?" 　　She didn't actually know, but nodded. "Yes, maybe I'm early." 　　"No, you're right on time. Please come with me." 　　Cassandra wondered how he knew the situation, following him through the hall into a spacious, sun-drenched living room. Heavy, bright red curtains hung in the windows. The wool carpet on the floor was also red, adorned with black oriental patterns. Despite the sunlight filling the room, Cassandra felt a chill and couldn't help but shiver. 　　The Baron settled into an armchair and gestured for Cassandra to sit in the trapezoidal-backed chair directly opposite him. She sat gracefully, placing her hands on her knees, seemingly unaware of his admiring gaze. 　　"You sit beautifully," he said gently. "I value manners and good conduct. Those who care for my daughter need to uphold some old-fashioned values. I don't approve of modern ways of raising children. Discipline is a part of life; if children aren't taught it, how will they regulate their behavior later in life?" 　　Cassandra nodded. "Absolutely right. My parents were very strict with me growing up." 　　"Has this helped you as you've grown up?"

She hesitated, worried she was making a mess of things. A definite answer would be almost a lie. "I can't be entirely sure, but they're definitely right..."
"Maybe you haven't learned your lesson?" He laughed. There was a depth to this question she couldn't comprehend, and his persistent questioning unsettled her. She wanted to be honest
. "Maybe not," she admitted. "I rebel sometimes, as kids often do, don't they? I think they're out of touch with the times, which is probably why I married Paul—because I knew they wouldn't approve. And now Paul's with a wealthy, older woman, so it's obvious they're right."
"Have you admitted this to your parents?"
"No." Her voice was soft. "They're all in the past."
He leaned forward. "Do you have any siblings?" Cassandra shook her head. "Just me." Her voice held a hint of loneliness.
He leaned back, part of his face hidden in shadow. But she saw him nod and speak in a very soft, satisfied tone.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear what you were saying," she apologized.
“I say you’re quite good.”
Cassandra’s eyes widened in surprise. “You haven’t even asked about my qualifications. In fact, I’ve never cared for children before. Of course, I love children…”
“Why, of course?” he interrupted her.
“Everyone loves children, doesn’t they?”
“No, but not Katya,” he paused, glanced at Cassandra, and continued, “She’s my fiancée, and she doesn’t like children. So, I’m looking for someone young who can love children like a mother, but also be strict enough to teach them the necessary rules of childhood.”
Cassandra thought of her own childhood, though she desperately needed this job. But she had to say it. “I believe love and discipline are equally important.” She was very firm.
The Baron stared at her, his expression serious, but the light made his face appear brighter. “I agree,” he said softly, “a combination of love and discipline is best.”
Cassandra was proud and courageous to say this. Her words didn’t displease the Baron; instead, they confirmed her feeling that she was best suited for the job. A short while later, he had his secretary draft the contract and asked her when she could begin. Cassandra was a little dazed by the successful interview.
"It's up to you. I only rented the apartment for a week because I wasn't working at the time."
"Then go back and pack your things. I'll send a car to pick you up in the morning, okay?"
"Great." Cassandra nodded.
"It's settled then." He shook her hand. His fingers were long, and they even touched her wrist. "I hope you can stay with us long-term; too many changes aren't good for the child." In his palm, she felt like she was burning. But she remained calm, almost unable to take her eyes off him; his gaze seemed to be hinting at something.
“Don’t worry, I don’t like frequent changes either.” She added, her voice slightly unsteady, “One of the reasons I came here to work is that you don’t have to appear in public. It’s unusual, but I’ve always lived a protected life. It’s really nice here; I think you almost live in your own world, don’t you?”
“Exactly,” he said slowly. “You’ll adapt. This house doesn’t allow the outside world to intrude; we have all the amenities.”
Cassandra realized she didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to pack her bags. She just wanted to be with this charming man and his family. “When can I see the children?” she suddenly remembered she should have asked that earlier.
For a moment, the Baron looked surprised, as if he had forgotten about them. “Oh, well, now you should see the children.”
He stood up and pressed the bell beside the mantel. A few minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door. A beautiful redhead led in two blonde children. The Baron glanced quickly at the young woman. "Abigail, thank you. We've found a replacement for you. Tonight you can return to your former world."
The woman's eyes reddened, and she turned her face away, her porcelain-like skin flushed slightly.
"Unfortunately, Abigail is unruly," the Baron continued. "So she decided to leave us. It's disappointing."
Embarrassed, Cassandra smiled sympathetically at Abigail, seeing her eyes brimming with tears as she stood uneasily before the Baron awaiting his orders. "That's all," he said sharply. She rushed out of the drawing room, leaving an awkward silence.
The two girls looked up at their father with their bright blue eyes. In his presence, they seemed completely at ease. The Baron patted the slightly taller girl. "This is Helena, four years old; and this one, who could be mistaken for an angel, is Christina. Only two. Children, this is Cassandra, your new governess, as long as you don't scare her away."
The girls laughed, covering their faces with their hands and stealing glances at her. The Baron shrugged. "Little girls all like to giggle like that; it's not necessarily bad, but it's certainly annoying." "
I think they must be very shy,"
he frowned. "I hope not; I don't allow my family to act like that."
Cassandra wasn't sure if he was joking, but she noticed the children quickly lower their hands. "I am shy," she confessed.
The Baron looked at her thoughtfully. "It will be alright! Now, children, you can go now. Lunch is surely already prepared in your rooms upstairs, and you'll have another chance to see her tomorrow." The girls politely bowed before leaving their rooms. Cassandra hoped to hear their laughter again as the door closed, but she was disappointed. She couldn't even hear the children's footsteps in the hall.
"Now that you've seen them, are you still willing to stay?"
"Of course, they look quite nice, very pretty!"
"They resemble their mother." He didn't seem particularly pleased with that. After a brief silence, he glanced at the clock. "I'll have someone drive you back." Cassandra couldn't believe how much she wanted to stay, to understand the mystery of the house, how strongly the owner of the house attracted her. "A taxi will do." She didn't want the Baron to call a car.
"I prefer my own driver. I hate strangers running around in this house. Peter will drive you back." He picked up the phone, spoke a few words in French, and then hung up. "The car will be at the door in a few minutes. I'll see you out. We look forward to you joining our family tomorrow." "
Then the contract?" Cassandra asked hesitantly. The lady in Kensington had explained that there were some details about the salary that she wasn't clear about.
“That’s a considerable sum,” he interrupted her impatiently, as if annoyed by her skepticism.
“You can become part of our family, but you must abide by the rules, which aren’t without reason, aside from the confidentiality clauses.”
Cassandra, always yearning for belonging, a homebody, looked at him in surprise. “Confidentiality clauses?” He shrugged. “I’m rich and famous. When people leave my home, quit their jobs, I don’t want them to reveal what’s going on here in the newspapers. Someone like you, I want you to be a member of the family, living a secluded life.”
“I won’t go to the newspapers to comment on you!” Cassandra said, a little apprehensive.
“I believe that’s true, but if such a promise is made in a signed document and then can’t be kept. Whatever the appeal, if people leave with imaginable resentment, or…” A door above them opened, and a sound like a painful scream drifted from the hallway.
“I know you understand.” The Baron abruptly ended the conversation. Then he turned and strode away from her, standing on the spacious landing at the top of the escalator.
Cassandra slowly walked out the front door toward the waiting car.
The Baron stood in front of the bay window of the master bedroom watching young Peter, his cleaner from last year, who had driven Cassandra back to her old rented apartment, a place his investigative department had already looked into. It was a slum, teeming with debt-ridden unemployed from the lower classes. He knew she would have accepted the job if offered it. But even in his most ambitious dreams, she wasn’t quite perfect. A greedy smile played on his lips, and he sighed softly.
The petite, pale-haired woman, lying naked on the large round bed, heard the sigh and burst into laughter. "She'll bring a gift," she said, "and she'll surely be the most beautiful gift you've received in years." Katya was also moved; her voice had the irritating tone of a woman who had weathered ten years of storms and was now idle.
Her long, curly pale-haired hair and delicate frame gave her an air of innocence. From a distance, she would be mistaken for a young girl, but she was twenty-nine, and without adornment, she would appear older, though she made sure the Baron knew she wasn't lying about her age. She hadn't expected to be separated from his life; Marita's death had guaranteed her continued stay in the house. Now that she was safely in the Deette household, she had no intention of giving way to anyone else.
"You saw it all, Katia?"
"Of course, I love watching CCTV. When you talked to her about how love and control are the perfect combination, the look on her face was priceless, quite obvious. She didn't understand what you meant. We have to keep this tape; she'll understand better soon. I'll show her what she really looks like as soon as the competition is over." Katia stretched out her body, lifting her breasts, hoping to draw Deeters' attention to them. "When is Abigail leaving?" "
Tonight. Her contract says six o'clock."
"Don't you think she should work until then?"
The baron's pulse quickened. This was his principle—to leave all his women bewildered, wondering what he had done or not done. Besides, Katia enjoyed toying with Abigail more than he did. He was tired of the redhead; she was unruly and cried too much. He didn't mind Katia's pleasure; it wouldn't hurt her.
“I think I’d rather wait for Cassandra,” he replied.
Katya found it difficult to speak further. She resented his predicament but couldn’t find the key to comfort him. “I thought you’d give her a farewell gift, a red envelope, if you were in a good mood,” she said lightly.
“She can’t earn that anymore.”
“Come, sit on the bed,” Katya coaxed. “I’ve been waiting up there all morning by myself.” She used her girlish whining, though she was slowly realizing that she shouldn’t think about most men. The Baron, however, remained unmoved.
"Lonely?" Finally, he turned to her. "I don't believe you're really alone. I called Peter, but he wasn't in his room. I vaguely heard Abigail crying; I just hoped young Cassandra didn't realize what that noise was. We don't want to disturb her yet."
"When I said lonely, I meant without you. Peter is a child, and Abigail has already caused enough trouble." The Baron laughed heartily. "Peter is a very mature nineteen-year-old." "Abigail is a very mature twenty-year-old woman. If she doesn't earn the red envelope, perhaps she should be punished one last time."
"For what?"
"For not ending the game."
"Very good! Yes, I think that would be fair. Fairness is important; otherwise, the whole game loses its focus. Punishing her for not ending the game is an excellent idea. Ring the bell for her."
Katya smiled and kissed his neck. "I'd love to. She's already suffering; this will be especially fun. You're so good to me, darling."
"It's so nice to hear you compliment me,"
Cathy thought, alarm bells ringing in her head. She couldn't push him away; she seemed to need to be independent, but not domineering. He didn't like stubborn women—Maritta was stubborn—but he also didn't like overly dependent women. Sometimes she thought he didn't need women all the time. He enjoyed the thrill of the game, nothing more. Love, intimacy, emotional bonds were all church nonsense to Deet. Cathy was certain he was looking for something, and she just wanted to find out what it was.
From her room (which would soon belong to Cassandra), Abigail was summoned by a buzzing sound. She knocked softly on the door until the Baron called her in, and she went in. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, and she looked at him nervously. Despite everything having happened in the last few months, she could still feel his masculinity, his restless lust. He had pleased her so much from the beginning, and it had all been fine until this woman ruined it all.
The Baron watched as Abigail's grey eyes shifted to the seat where Katia sat in the middle of the bed, her small, firm breasts rising. He saw the fear on Abigail's face. She had never learned to share, never learned to accept Katia's joy, nor had she learned to accept him. Sadly, she couldn't know how she would change; if she had been involved in his game longer, she would have.
"You're very unhappy about leaving our Katia," he explained. He walked behind Abigail and closed the door. "She's particularly annoying; you and she couldn't manage to get along better, and she thinks it must be her fault."
Abigail watched the Baron pace around the room, not wanting to answer him. She knew he meant nothing by it; there was a hidden meaning. She couldn't possibly react quickly enough to please him; she could only remain silent, for by not speaking, she wouldn't break the rules.
"You think it's her fault, Abigail?" he continued, lifting her chin with his hand, supporting her head.
Abigail said in a weak voice, "No."
"Fine, because it's not my fault, I think it's yours. You're basically a smart girl, but you've never really tried to understand us, to understand our preferred way of living at home. You broke the rules and refused to accept punishment. You're like a child who refuses to learn. Therefore, you are to blame; you disrupted our competition. Because of this, we have to stop this competition and start another. If it's inappropriate to invite you here, I think it's to pay you a punishment, to collect a small fine from you before you leave us."
Abigail's breathing quickened. The Baron watched her breathing rise and fall, her breasts trembling beneath her thin summer dress. He slowly reached out and removed the ribbon from her shoulder, so that her arm was close to her side. He then unbuttoned two buttons on her waist, his hand reaching up to grasp her bare breast. His fingers circled the nipple, which bounced vigorously. She swallowed deeply.
"Get in bed," he urged gently, but she felt uncomfortable with Katia beside her. She lay naked at the foot of the bed, her green eyes like a cat's. Abigail hated her, hated her cruelty, and hated her complete lack of understanding of Abigail's physical reactions.
"Come on," he said, wrapping his arm around her waist with his free hand, dragging her to the bedside, and with a push, she fell onto the down comforter.
Her legs were still off the bed, but they felt heavy with fear. In this state, she knew she couldn't possibly resist the pair. They always won, and she never experienced the pleasure the Baron gave her. This was simply because she couldn't bear the presence of his mistress. Fear wasn't a characteristic of Abigail's sexuality. In this wretched household, fear seemed to be considered a sign of defeat. Nevertheless, she still hoped this time the Baron would give her the initial pleasure, as she always had.
The Baron watched the changing expressions on her face, discovering sparks of passion; it was always a pleasure to see someone contend with their own desires. Even though this energetic redhead was clearly too sexy, her most crucial moments of release, even with Katya's interruption, were still captivating. This stimulating scene was enough to make Katya do as she pleased.
He turned to the impatient Katia and said, “Go get the ribbon.”
“No!” Abigail cried, and the Baron pressed his finger to her lips. “We must use the ribbon, of course. It will increase the pleasure. You already know that, remember?”
“Don’t be with her. I don’t want her here. Tie me up and I won’t have her here, please!”
“My dear Abigail, this is punishment. You’re not here for your amusement, but for ours.”
Abigail was speechless. She desperately needed to go to the restroom because she felt her bladder was bursting.
Katia, with the speed honed through training, retrieved the ribbon, bound Abigail’s ankles, then spread the girl’s long legs wide, and tied the ribbon to the metal posts around the round bed.
Once she was finished, the Baron took off his own clothes, sat down beside Abigail, and slowly began to unbutton her still-undone garments, letting them slip off her body to reveal her large, dark-nippled breasts—breasts his mistress was particularly fascinated by.
He glanced at the girl lying there trembling and silent, then grabbed her wrists, and Katya went to the bedside and bound her wrists in return.
The Baron's eyes darted down to her creamy-colored flesh; he thought she was far too tempting, too alluring. He remembered that Katya had chosen her at the villa in Lorraine. If he were to choose, she wouldn't stand a chance; deep down, he considered this choice a mistake Katya had made.
Whether it was out of a desire not to lose points in the competition, or simply because of inexperience, she rarely resisted anything the Baron did. But her constant defiance of Katya's instructors had long since annoyed him. When he compared her fiery body to Cassandra's slender frame, he almost didn't want to bother with this last time. But he felt Katya deserved one more time.
He lowered his head and kissed Abigail's closed eyes and temples, while his hands played with her shoulders and arms, then her buttocks and abdomen. He buried his face in one of her nipples, flicking it with his tongue, his hand pressing against her pubic bone. With
a slight pressure, she sighed and struggled to sink down. He heard Katya laugh. "Her bathroom door's been closed all morning," she whispered in the shadows. The Baron smiled at Abigail, whose eyes opened, filled with fear and discomfort. "That will increase your pleasure," he whispered reassuringly.
Abigail knew perfectly well. "No, please don't," she gasped. But his fingers pressed against her bulging bladder, and she couldn't help but hiss in discomfort and fear. Immediately, Katya stepped forward and bit down hard on the swollen nipple of the trapped girl, already aroused by the Baron.
Abigail's breast felt like it was being burned, a sharp pain shooting through her, but she bit her lip to keep quiet. The Baron stared intently at her, watching the effect of the bite lessen. He spread his palms and kneaded her lower abdomen, adjusting the pressure according to the expression in her eyes. The torment she endured excited him; he felt his penis harden, the head scraping against Abigail's pelvis.
He continued to apply and release pressure, making Abigail acutely aware that she was about to lose complete control and wet the bed. This had happened before, when she and Katya were alone together. This punishment was so terrifying; she knew she couldn't take it anymore.
Her eyes pleaded with the Baron, but he remained unmoved. She felt she had to cry out; tension and pressure began sending different signals to her brain, tiny sparks like electrodes striking her lower abdomen, causing her buttocks to lift slightly.
"Keep calm," the Baron commanded. "Haven't you learned anything here?"
she groaned, trying to muffle the clenched teeth. She knew she had to remain calm, endure it all; this was the last time. A drop of fluid dripped from the opening of the Baron's penis. Abigail's nerve endings were stretched to their limit, making her want to jump. The Baron laughed, pressing her down even harder. This time, she couldn't bear it, but he seemed to know, and his hand quickly moved away. He parted her smooth labia, carefully teasing her clitoris beneath the wet flesh.
Abigail felt her clitoris begin to swell with pleasure; the Baron himself hadn't touched that place for two weeks, and her uncontrollable body clung to him. Now, the pressure of her swollen bladder and the throbbing of her nerve endings offered no relief from the ease he had once given her.
He slowly circled her cleavage with his tongue, moving it over her belly and down to her thighs. She was now infatuated with him, hoping he would attend to that little button of pleasure, that his tongue would slip inside her, moving within her with the same incredibly seductive methods he had used, making her lose herself in pleasure. But he merely lingered between her legs, and she could only wait for him to climax.
Just as she was becoming wildly excited, she suddenly felt a small hand slip under her buttocks. She struggled to escape the gentle scratching of long fingernails against her anus, but Katya was not easily shaken off. This pain negated the pleasure Abigail derived from the Baron's caresses.
Suddenly, the most exquisite tip of the Baron's tongue moved to the inside of her labia, slipping inside that little opening—this was what she had longed for, what she considered the most wonderful thing in the world. The throbbing pain from Katia's fingers began to subside. Her pelvis and bladder were throbbing with passion. The Baron's hands were still working on her breasts, pinching them hard. His tongue was still giving her incredible pleasure, and her whole body was about to erupt in excitement.
Because this seemed like a permanent, unchanging action, she was suspended on the edge of excitement. He quickly withdrew from her wet, warm orifice, circling and moving towards her clitoris. A red light flashed in her eyes, her body sprang off the bed, the ribbons tightened, and her body trembled at the peak of sexual desire. Katia thrust three fingers into her tight anus, while the Baron pressed down on her pubic bone. Abigail completely lost control; her body excitedly tugged at the ribbons, and at the same time, her bladder emptied of all its contents. Terrified to realize what was happening, she screamed out her pent-up hatred and burst into loud sobs.
Katia's busy fingers paused for a moment, and she turned to smile at the Baron. Dieter had left the humiliated girl, his face expressionless.
Abigail's final shudder of sexual release had ended, and Katia lowered her head to lick her thigh clean. Abigail closed her eyes in protest against the insult. But Katia persisted.
The Baron pulled her. "Enough, let her go." Katia reluctantly obeyed. "Look at me," the Baron said softly to the sobbing girl.
Experience told her that it was best to obey while his voice was still calm. She slowly raised her eyelids. He looked at her, and she wanted to hate him, but couldn't.
"You see," he said to her, "this is good for you. If you're willing to take the competition seriously, I think you can learn a lot about yourself, who knows? Maybe this will be your permanent place."
Abigail couldn't bear the thought that she might lose the chance to spend her life with the Baron. "You mean I can stay with you?" she whispered, imagining what life would be like here without that hateful Katia.
He brushed a stray strand of hair from her sweaty forehead. "Of course not with me! I think there's a place for you and Katia here."
"She's promiscuous!" Abigail sobbed. "Don't you understand that love isn't like that?"
"It's a waste, all this talk about promiscuity and normal sex. Pleasure is everything, but you never understand that, do you? That's not your fault; Katia has bad taste. As for love…" His voice twitched playfully.
Katia, still seated between Abigail's parted legs, caressing the young woman's smooth skin, looked up at the Baron's words, a dangerous premonition creeping over her.
"That's not my fault!"
"You're talking like a child." His words were soft, but the accusation was clear enough. She certainly couldn't use childish noise anymore; she had to take responsibility for her mistake. If only Deet could give the girl more time, but he was annoyed with her. So they had to start a new game. Abigail had never given him enough excitement. At least if Cassandra couldn't stimulate his weary taste buds, it would be his fault.
“I don’t want to leave you,” Abigail suddenly shouted, sitting up and kicking Katya off the bed. “I know I can make you happy, and you can do whatever you want with me. You can…”
“Go away,” his voice was colder than she had ever heard. “You’re starting to annoy me. Don’t you think what you’re saying is the worst thing I can imagine? I don’t want a woman who’s willing to be manipulated by me. What’s the excitement then?”
“But…”
“Come on! Peter will take you to a hotel. Remember the contract you signed—be absolutely careful, you can get financial compensation. Although I’m sure I can trust you, after all, you don’t want anyone to know how you’ve lived for the past two months.”
Abigail glanced at the large television in the corner of the bedroom and the tracking camera lens on it. “No,” she said softly, her head sinking down.
"I know, let's go."
After she left, Katya put her arm around the Baron, pressing her bare breasts against his broad back. "Let's watch TV, it should be exciting."
The Baron pulled Katya to sit on his lap, absentmindedly stroking her neck. She took his still-erect penis into her mouth and gently sucked on it. "I don't think so. I have other things to worry about."
"But I want you to fuck me," Katya said softly, lifting her head. "I want you..." He pushed her away, his erection heavy, causing her to fall to the ground. She felt a different kind of discomfort; he wasn't just bored, he was angry. If she couldn't please him in the next match, she might lose her place here.
“I think Cassandra will make things very happy for us.”
“I think so too. She keeps popping into my head; such innocence is so rare these days. I wonder if her husband has ever given her any pleasure.”
“Maybe she’s frigid,” Katia said through gritted teeth.
“Have I ever misjudged a woman?” Seeing Katia shake her head, he continued, “Of course not. She might be afraid to admit her sexuality, and forcing her to confront that fact, competing with me in intelligence, will be a huge source of pleasure in itself.” “
I’m looking forward to it too,” Katia agreed.
“This match will be different.” He put on a light jacket, and Katia listened intently; his matches were always so complex. “This time, it will add a little excitement.”
“What is it?” she asked curiously.
“There can only be one winner this time.”
“One winner?” she didn’t understand.
The Baron nodded. “Either it’s you, or it’s Cassandra, my dear.”
“What about the loser?” Katia asked nervously.
He shrugged. "I don't know. Robert loses, or she just disappears."
"You mean if I lose I have to leave for a while?"
"I mean if you lose, I never want to see you again."
Pain choked Katya's chest. Only through Deetot could she satisfy her complex sexual hunger, her cruelty, her relationships with other women, her ever-growing desire for younger men—all understood by the Baron, where she could find a lover willing to indulge her. After all, she knew Deetot intimately, knew all the secrets of his soul. Deetot's world was dark, strange, and the only place she felt suited to dwell. She doubted she could exist anywhere outside of Handespee.
Chapter Two
When Cassandra saw the young driver take her two suitcases from the stylish black "Diehamler" trunk and enter through the Baron's front door, she felt both excited and nervous. It was wonderful to feel needed, to know that someone truly needed her to work for them, but it was also terrifying to break with everything she had previously known. She knew it was absurd, yet in some ways, this Hampster house felt like a foreign land, and she had never had the courage to travel abroad.
Finally, she took a deep breath and followed Peter inside. The hall was empty; her two suitcases were long gone; she assumed they had been taken upstairs. Silence returned. A few seconds later, she heard the faint footsteps upstairs cease, and she immediately recalled the strange crying that had come from that direction when she was leaving after her audience. At the time, she had thought it was a child crying, but later, as time passed and her imagination ran wild, she became convinced it was more like the painful groan of an adult—a thought that lingered like a persistent toothache.
"I think I hear a car!" a woman's voice cried. Cassandra looked up and saw a young woman with long, flowing, pale blonde hair cascading down the stairs.
She was petite, barely five feet tall, with delicate bones and a tanned face that accentuated her strikingly beautiful eyes. She wore a tight miniskirt that outlined the figure typically seen in aerobatic or swimming performances—a perfection Cassandra had always found hard to believe when reading about such figures in newspapers and magazines. Yet seeing this young woman, and knowing she was the Baron's fiancée, she understood perfectly well that for a woman with ample time and money, this was undoubtedly meaningful. A man like Baron von Ritter would always be attracted to beautiful women, and this young woman certainly was. This was the first time Cassandra had objectively observed another woman's figure, and when she realized what she was doing, she immediately looked away, a blush of shame spreading to her neck.
That morning, Katia spent a considerable amount of time preparing to meet the woman, who would be her opponent in the upcoming match, a fact she herself was unaware of. She felt a satisfied joy when she saw Cassandra blush. She slid her hands down to her hips, seemingly trying to smooth out wrinkles in her dress. However, this only accentuated her curves, and she extended her right hand to greet her guest.
“You must be Cassandra Williams. I’m Katya Guise, and I live here with the Baron and his very lovely little daughters. They’re quite amusing, but perhaps a bit too energetic for me. I’m an owl, and they’re a pair of larks. Now that you’re here, at least I can get some sleep before midnight.”
She gave Cassandra a girlish grin, which Cassandra returned, completely unaware that Katya had never gotten out of bed to care for the two girls, nor that if she could, the children would be sent to a boarding school when they turned eight.
“I’m fine in the mornings,” Cassandra replied.
“But not at night?” Katya asked, her voice suddenly softening.
“I usually go to bed before ten,” Cassandra admitted. “My parents always told me not to overexert myself.”
“How tiresome those words are. My parents hardly ever get any sleep. They couldn’t tolerate wasting a single minute of their lives.”
“Do they live in England?” Cassandra asked.
Katya’s eyes filled with tears—the Baron might have told Cassandra that she was more prone to crocodile tears than any woman he had ever seen—then her voice dropped to a whisper. “They died in a plane crash three years ago,” she revealed.
“How terrible!” Cassandra’s heart immediately ached at the thought of her own parents’ deaths.
Katya, she didn’t know who her father was. Her mother, who had done everything possible to please a man, died of venereal disease shortly after finishing her daughter’s education at twelve. Katya’s lips twitched for a moment, then she smiled bravely. “Alright, let’s not dwell on the past. Everyone has sad stories in their life. Let me take you upstairs and show you your room. The house has been thoroughly cleaned since Abigail left yesterday, and we’ve changed the windows and sheets to better suit your personality. Deet thinks you and Abigail have different tastes in interior design.”
“I really didn’t expect this…” Cassandra’s voice trailed off. She found it hard to believe that a man would care so much about his employees, changing the decor of so many of his rooms for their convenience.
“But isn’t a bedroom important for a woman?” Katia said, placing a small hand gently on Cassandra’s elbow as she led her upstairs, then turning right at the landing. “I think it’s so important to have a proper bedroom. Of course, you have your own little living room and bathroom, but I look forward to you spending more time with us. Abigail is like that. She’s wonderful at our little dinner parties. After a few drinks, she becomes quite lively.”
Cassandra felt a tightness in her stomach. “I’m afraid I’m not the kind of person who attends parties. Besides, I’m here to take care of the children. I’m sure the Baron doesn’t need me to socialize with his friends.”
“You’re part of the family now,” Katia insisted. “Don’t be so nervous. Dinner parties are one of the most exciting parts of life here. Deeters knows all the witty people.”
Cassandra wanted Katia to remove her hand from her elbow. She knew Katia was just trying to be friendly, but with a lot of force. When they stopped in front of a heavy oak door, her worries lessened. Katia pushed the door open. “We’re here. This is your bedroom.”
Cassandra stared at her in surprise. This bedroom was larger than the entire suite she had just left, dominated by a huge four-poster bed and yellowish-brown windows that could be pulled back and secured to posts wreathed in oak trees. There were no blankets, but instead, a brocade bedspread embroidered in gold and beige, its surface covered with the same apricot-yellow threads as the windows. A thick, beige wool carpet covered the floor; the thick windowpanes, similar in texture to those she had seen during her reception in the living room, also had a similar net-like gold thread. The room's opulence distracted her, and she failed to notice the massive iron bars outside the windows.
Katya watched Cassandra's delighted expression as she saw the house, recalling Abigail's utter disinterest when she first arrived. Of course, the house was now much more vibrant and opulent, but Abigail's indifferent attitude should have told her something. She herself, a woman who indulged in sensual pleasures, knew how important the right setting was, how easily a pleasing room could arouse desire. She had a feeling that Cassandra's slender body would also experience the pleasure of the daily changes of silk sheets, and she felt a momentary stirring when she imagined that almost boyish, thin figure slipping onto the bed, caressing her innocent muscles, highlighting the soft, arousing caresses.
"This room is lovely!" Cassandra turned to face Katia with enthusiasm. She was somewhat surprised to find her mistress's thoughts somewhat scattered and her breathing uneven, then realized the room was too hot.
"I want to open the windows," Cassandra said quickly.
"They won't open," Katia interjected.
Cassandra frowned. "Why can't it be opened?"
"Well, Deet always puts the girls' safety first. She's always worried they'll fall off their little horses or out the window, so most of the windows in this house are closed and bolted. There's a fan on the bed, it works fine, and we have one in our room too, and there's air conditioning, but we can't use it too much because our throats get parched in no time.
" "But it's so stuffy in this room," Cassandra insisted.
A flash of anger crossed Katya's eyes, but it quickly turned into a smile. She reached out and pulled hard on the old-fashioned bell handle, which Cassandra had already grabbed. Instantly, a huge wooden fan on the ceiling began to turn quietly, and then cool air flowed around them.
"See! I told you it was nice. When I'm hot, I lie naked in bed and let it cool me down gradually. You can't imagine how pleasant it is."
Cassandra, who still felt hot and humid. She could imagine the fan must be very nice. She could also picture Katya lying on the bed, her arms and legs outstretched, not even wearing a tight little dress, and the thought made her so uncomfortable that she didn't know what to say.
Katya looked at the younger woman and smiled to herself. This would never be a competition. Cassandra wasn't a cunning person; she was surprisingly naive, a young woman whose emotions hadn't yet been stirred. Nothing about her would hold the Baron's attention for long. It would take a considerable amount of time to destroy that innocent quality, and once it was gone, she couldn't imagine what the Baron would find interesting in her. No, she, Katya, would be the victor in this contest. She should never have lost sleep worrying about her rival. From now on, if she had trouble sleeping at night, it would be to find a way to get rid of this girl and bring her down completely. Then, after the contest was over, to be on the safe side, she would persuade Deet to hand Cassandra over to Robert. By doing so, Katya knew the game would continue without further twists and turns, and if, after a few weeks, she found herself enjoying herself, she could visit occasionally, which Robert wouldn't mind.
"I'm very pleased that you like this room," she said cheerfully. "Luz will come up and open your trunk in a little while. The Baron will be home shortly after lunch, and he'll explain what you need to do for the rest of the day. If I were you, I'd rest a bit before lunch. The washroom is behind that door; notice, there are two steps that make it hard to see."
"Where do I have lunch?" Cassandra asked.
“On such a nice day, we usually eat on the back balcony outside, with the children eating with us. Their behavior in the garden is fine.”
“I thought their behavior was excellent,” Cassandra said firmly. “They are the most polite little girls I’ve ever met.”
“How kind you are!” Katya smiled again, but only opened her mouth before Cassandra took a small step away from the woman. Suddenly, she had a feeling that Katya didn’t really like her. However, she knew she must be mistaken, because until then, Katya had been chattering like an old friend, and in any case, Katya had no reason to dislike her.
“Thank you,” Cassandra said softly.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to compliment you,” Katya replied. But before Cassandra could answer, Katya turned and left the room, letting the heavy oak door close behind her.
The Baron lay face down on the bed, his chin resting on the back of his hand, his eyes fixed on the closed-circuit television in the corner of the room. Katya walked in, and he ignored her presence, though he knew she was trying to answer him.
"Really, she must be taking a bath," Katya said eagerly.
"Quiet!" the Baron snapped at her angrily. He didn't care whether Cassandra was bathing or not. Katya's voice interrupted his thoughts.
Cassandra had been burying her face in her hands for a while. Though dressed, she stood straight in front of the mirror, scrutinizing herself rigorously. After a slight hesitation, she untied the knot in her thick, black hair, shook her head, and let it fall loose. As her black hair cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall, the Baron sighed softly. Katya sat silently by the windowsill.
She paused again. This time, Cassandra checked the faucets, trying to figure out the different showerheads. Then she raised her hands and began to unbutton her hunting-style cotton dress. Once the buttons were undone, she shrugged, and the dress slipped down to the floor behind her. Then, she leaned forward and unhooked her soft cotton bra. She stretched her arms forward at an angle, causing the bra to slip down in front of her. The voyeurs had a clear view of her small breasts; the pale skin accentuated the rosy nipples, making them even more striking. Those two little buds didn't look like a woman's nipples, but rather like they belonged to a child.
The Baron swallowed hard and sighed contentedly. Katya yawned and said weakly, "Her breasts are almost flat, Deet. So boring!"
"I admit she's not as mature as your Abigail, but I can't say her breasts are flat. Look at her slender waist and that belly; how alluring! I can perfectly imagine you with her, Katya. You would certainly be the first woman to make love to her. Don't you find that exciting?"
That's how she felt, but she didn't like the way Deet looked at the screen. Abigail had never had such an effect on him. Cassandra, though twenty-three, looked so young; while Katya was acutely aware that she, though only twenty-nine, looked much older.
Cassandra finally removed her alluring white cotton shorts and stepped into the bathtub. As she lifted her right leg, Deet and his mistress saw her most intimate parts for the first time; both were captivated by the image on the screen. Cassandra's pubic hair was thick and abundant, and her vulva was small and tight, so they could only see the soft pink area between her labia. She knelt down in the bathtub, lying down, her head resting on the edge.
"Do you think she'd play with herself?" Katya asked excitedly. She recalled how Abigail's arrival had thrilled them.
“I would be very disappointed if I did that,” the Baron replied. “She’s not Abigail, my dear. Compared to your red-haired woman, who’s like a pale, homemade wine, this girl is a deep, mysterious red wine. A rare red wine to be savored slowly. Enough of this idle chatter.” He turned off the television with the remote.
“I haven’t finished watching yet,” Cathy exclaimed.
“Of course you have. Go have lunch with my children. Make sure they behave. Tonight, wear that light blue dress, low-cut, without any shirt underneath.”
“We don’t have any guests tonight, what does it matter what I wear?”
“The game has already begun, Cathy. Asking more questions will cost you points.”
Cathy was seething with anger, but she suppressed it. If Dieter thought he was annoying her, he would be happy and make the game more complicated. Katya's earlier thought that Cassandra posed no threat to her vanished as she watched the screen. She hadn't seen such lust on Deet's face in a long time. Not since that disastrous ball in Venice, when he first saw Marie-Wente. And Marie-Wente's image lingered in his mind for five years before fading. Because five years later, she died. Katya didn't want Cassandra to linger in Deet's mind for so long.
"You'd better go have lunch," the Baron advised. Katya saw him lying on his back and shift. She moved her gaze to his lower body; she saw the visible signs that Cassandra had aroused his desire. She went to the bedside, carefully watching for any signs of annoyance or disgust, but there was none, only a tolerant expression of amusement.
"You really want her, don't you?" she asked, sitting quietly on the edge of the bed.
“Of course I want her! Why else would I hire her?”
“Tell me, what do you want her to do?”
He shook his head and said, “That would give away too much information. Remember, this is a competition for you too.”
“But you want to ruin her, don’t you? At least admit it. You want to change her, completely change her, until she doesn’t even recognize herself.”
The Baron shrugged. “If you want to put it that way, then so be it.”
Katya ran her hand up his trouser leg, her fingers lightly tracing the bulge in the crotch.
“That tells me you want to do that.”
She was wrong. The Baron grabbed her hand tightly, pulled it away, and squeezed her fingers hard. “Never mind me, go down to lunch. I need to see Luz.”
“Why do you need to see her?” Katya pressed.
“She and I still have things to do. Get away, Katya, I don’t like your constant questioning.” She had no choice but to leave.
Katya was in a particularly bad mood when Cassandra finally came to the garden to have lunch with her and the children. She tried to conceal her feelings, knowing full well that Peter, who served the meal, would report everything to the Baron. But she simply couldn't bring herself to smile at the younger woman approaching.
"I'm sorry I'm a few minutes late," Cassandra apologized. "I got lost and ended up in the study."
"That doesn't matter to me, but the Baron has a strict requirement for punctuality. Just remember that next time," Katya said, gesturing for a maid to bring over some plates.
"Of course, I'll get used to it quickly. The problem is, there's no one to ask. Where have all the staff gone? I never see anyone!" "
They're all at their posts. Helena, sit up straight. Put the plates on your lap. Didn't Abigail teach you?"
The four-year-old girl lowered her eyes, glanced at Katya again, and said, "Not much. She always sneaks into your room."
Katya turned to Cassandra and said, “I’m afraid Abigail was captivated by my clothes and cosmetics. I often found her in my bedroom under flimsy pretexts. I think you should feel sorry for a woman like that. It’s not good. So, she had to leave.”
Cassandra’s eyes widened. “Really? The Baron seems to have said she was a bit undisciplined.”
“Yes, that’s true. But she’s really not trustworthy at all. It was the agency that chose her for us. So, this time the Baron insisted on interviewing her himself. I think that’s much wiser.”
Cassandra nodded. “It’s better to see the person first…” She stopped, hearing a strange cry, unlike the one she’d heard on her last visit; there was no indication of pain, but it made Cassandra uneasy. She looked at Katya to see if she had heard the cry. The other woman’s face remained expressionless. She stood motionless for a moment; then, busying herself with her food, her expression returned.
“Yes, I agree with you,” she continued calmly. “It’s always better to meet someone face to face. You can learn a lot from their expressions, don’t you think?” Her green eyes met Cassandra’s. The effect was drowsy. The young woman felt she couldn’t look away, and she had a strange feeling as she looked at Katie. Her limbs began to feel heavy. When her shoulders relaxed, she felt a strange unease in her stomach. Katie leaned towards her, extending a small hand adorned with several rings, and touched her knee. “You know, Cassandra, there are some things I…”
Helena, mesmerized by her father’s mistress, swayed her legs to the side, and a plate fell from her lap, shattering on the floor. The sound of the ceramic plate breaking jolted Cassandra awake from her reverie, while Katie jumped up in fury.
“You fool, you’re so stupid! Look at the mess you’ve made. You wait, I’ll tell your father. He’ll be furious, and you’ll be punished. You agree, Cassandra? I know perfectly well how to punish a careless, clumsy, ugly little girl like you.”
Helena’s blue eyes filled with tears. She clasped her hands tightly on her knees and said softly, “I didn’t mean to, it was an accident.”
Chris was clearly not bothered by her sister’s crying; the word “accident” caught her attention. She raised her head and said clearly, “Mommy died. It was an accident.”
“Stop talking, Chris,” Katya said in a low voice, but her tone was unmistakably threatening. Chris quickly shrank back.
“I didn’t mean to,” Helena repeated, her lower lip trembling as she looked at Cassandra.
“Don’t worry,” Cassandra said quickly. “We all have our share of accidents.”
“My goodness, I’m afraid you won’t last long,” Katya said, her anger suddenly vanishing. “Deet wouldn’t approve of such sentimentality.”
“But she’s only four!” Cassandra said, wanting to reach out and hug little Helena, but unsure if she should. “It doesn’t seem like she fell on purpose.”
“I want her punished,” Katya said firmly. “That’s it. She ruined lunch.”
“Good afternoon, ladies. Something seems wrong?” a masculine voice asked. It was the Baron. He tiptoed up the steps and through the French windows into the courtyard.
“Your daughter just broke a lunch,” Katya said harshly. “She didn’t like it because I was talking to Cassandra, and she wanted us to give her some attention too.”
Cassandra was shocked. She wanted to defend herself, but then shut her mouth. She had just arrived and couldn't afford to argue with the Baron's fiancée in front of him. But it was too absurd, too unfair, and she knew she had a responsibility to speak for Helena. She pondered how to tell the Baron the truth without outwardly contradicting Katya.
"Helena, is that right?" the Baron asked his daughter.
Helena lowered her head, fiddling with her little hands.
"Answer me, is it true?"
"It happened by accident," his daughter whispered.
Chris tugged at her father's jacket, reminding him, "Mama is dead." The Baron quickly shifted his gaze from his two-year-old daughter to Cassandra, who was watching them; he suddenly smiled. “Such a beautiful day, let’s not let this quarrel spoil the mood. I want to forget about it now. Peter, you clean up this mess. Katya, your masseuse is here. Lutz, take the children upstairs for their nap; I need to speak with Cassandra here.”
Just as the children skipped away and Peter began sweeping up the broken porcelain, Cassandra glanced at Katya and saw her furious. Her eyes blazed with anger, her mouth was tightly shut, forming a thin line, and two dark blushes appeared on her cheeks.
“Katya, your masseuse,” the Baron reminded her.
“I want her punished,” she said coldly, “she destroyed…”
“I know what she actually destroyed,” he said; his voice was low and didn’t reach Katya’s ears. “You shouldn’t have tried to seduce her while you were eating. I’m not happy with what you did,” he raised his voice again, “Go now, dear. You know Pierre hates waiting.”
“This is outrageous!” Katya exclaimed hastily. She walked slowly toward the house, making it clear she wanted Pierre to wait.
Cassandra stood up, waiting for the Baron to speak. She had thought a lot about him since the interview. And now, seeing him face to face, her heart was pounding, and she felt inexplicably happy to see him. He smiled at her, seemingly just as happy to see her.
"Katia always makes such a fuss. Now you see why she can't be a good stepmother."
"I think taking care of two little girls isn't easy," Cassandra said.
"Ah, you're very good at mediating. That's wonderful, dear. Tell me, what really happened. Did Helena need someone to care for her? Or was it truly an accident?"
Cassandra took a few breaths to steady herself, her eyes fixed on her employer, and decided to tell him the whole story from the beginning. “I think that was indeed an accident; even an adult would find it difficult to keep a plate steady on their lap.”
“Well said!”
“Besides, she was very angry. Usually, when children need attention, they make a move, but they don’t cry, they only shed angry tears.”
“So Katya is lying,” he said softly.
“No, I’m sure she thinks it was just deliberate mischief.”
“Are you sure?”
Cassandra was taken aback. She wasn’t really sure. She seemed to think Katya was angry about something else and taking it out on the little girl, cruelly taking pleasure in the child’s frustration, but she knew she couldn’t say it. “Perhaps there’s a deeper conflict between them that I don’t know about,” she finally said.
The Baron nodded in agreement. “Well said! Perhaps there are many complex things in this family that you need to understand, and that’s part of your education, isn’t it? You are clearly very insightful, and possess other virtues as well.”
He moved his gaze down to her lower body, then lifted it again, but slowly, making no attempt to conceal his intention to assess her. Cassandra was surprised to find herself unbothered; on the contrary, she stood even straighter under his gaze. When he looked into her eyes again, his expression was normal. He commented, "I think you'll do a good job," as if talking to himself. Then he reached out and gently touched her cheek before turning and heading towards the house. He instructed, "The schedule is in your room. Take a good look at it, and then get to work. You'll have dinner with us at nine tonight. The children will be asleep then. If they do wake up, one of the nannies will take care of them. Dress formally."
Cassandra was left alone in the garden, completely bewildered. She had expected a long talk with the Baron, from whom she would learn how to arrange the children's daily activities. But he had spent less than five minutes with her and hadn't said anything of substance. Yet, Cassandra strangely found herself changed.
Although the Baron was gone, she still felt the impression of his fingers touching her cheek, still remembered the way he looked at her closely, and how she straightened up under his gaze. Paul had never looked at her like that before.
Even now, she could feel her nipples hardening against her bra. She was more aware of her body than ever before. Her long dress seemed to be constantly rubbing against her legs. Subconsciously, she ran her hands from her hips to her thighs, just as she had done that morning when Katia came downstairs to her. It felt so good. She lay back, letting the sunlight caress her face, warming her skin until the heat spread down to her throat.
At that moment, Deyt stood at a window upstairs, watching this tall woman, and for the first time began to realize that his body needed more than just food and clothing. His body stirred. As his gaze swept over her body, he imagined her on the screen, her body still aroused, white, slender, and most importantly, not knowing what was about to happen.
That was the kind of pleasure one seeks to gain through scrutiny. A rapidly multiplying sense of joy, one that transcended mere perception. Under his gaze, she began to pulsate with life again. He saw how the veins around her ears quickened their throbbing
and knew immediately that this would be a very special game. He would need absolute self-discipline to prevent her from rushing through the test; yet he knew that every passing minute would be prolonged to provide the maximum possible pleasure. Pain, of course, was equally plentiful, but to him, both were of the same nature, and so would Cassandra. He was certain of that now. She would no longer suffer and groan like Abigail. No, this woman would understand and embrace the challenge. He hadn't felt this excited in a long time.
The door to the upstairs study opened, and the masseur Pierre stood in the doorway. "Would you like to join us, Baron? The lady is ready."
The Baron winked at Cassandra, then turned and said bluntly, "I want to join you. Have Katia call Peter too."
Katia was delighted to hear Pierre tell her the Baron wanted to join her. Later, he seemed less interested in her body, and even Peter's presence didn't bother her. Peter always added to their pleasure.
Katia's excitement only began to wane after the Baron entered the small but well-equipped gymnasium. He looked quite annoyed, not in the way he usually amused. It was as if she had ruined something for him, something that hadn't happened in a long time. Initially, it was part of what she was supposed to learn, and it seemed like something she had long abandoned, something she didn't want to experience again.
“Darling, how lovely,” she said gleefully. “Pierre is wonderful, but just enough to whet the appetite.”
“Why were you trying to seduce Cassandra outside?” he asked, completely ignoring her.
“Seduce? I was just chatting with her! I think she should see me as a friend, to make things more interesting later.”
He frowned. “I saw it from the window; you were trying to seduce her. If Helena hadn’t broken the plate, you would have already started touching her, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course not,” Katia chuckled softly, but the Baron grabbed her throat, quickly silencing her laughter. The Baron clenched his fingers.
“You lied to me. I told you not to touch her until tonight, and you deliberately disobeyed me. That’s cheating; I don’t play that game. Maybe we should have replaced you before we even started.”
Katia struggled to free herself from the Baron’s hand; she coughed and spat. Pierre just stood there, unmoved. Suddenly, the Baron released her grip, and Cathy gasped, feeling the pain in her neck where she had been scratched.
She wished she wasn't lying naked on that massage table. Deyt stood looking down at her, in a very intimidating position. She had no way of escaping the table if he didn't let her.
He stared at her for a moment, his dark eyes filled with anger. She looked up and saw Peter enter. "Peter! Excellent. Bring my riding crop and the leather goods prepared for the lady."
Cathy sat up on the sofa and said, "No, Deyt! Those aren't for me, they're no longer for me, they're for…"
"They're for anyone I choose, dear. Unless, of course, you don't want to play anymore?"
"Has the game started?" she whispered.
He laughed, displeased with her smile. "It started yesterday, I must have forgotten to tell you."
Yesterday. She racked her brains, trying to recall what had happened yesterday besides the scene with Abigail, but she couldn't remember anything afterward. Either she assumed Deet was busy with Luz, or she would never have tried to touch Cassandra in the garden. Now she knew he must have deliberately made Luz make passionate noises to distract her, and she had fallen for it.
Peter quickly returned with a wooden box and handed it to the Baron. The Baron slowly took out the contents of the box. A small riding crop, which the Baron used with more precision than anyone could believe; a piece of black velvet; and what at first glance looked like an ordinary bikini, but was made of rubber.
Katya tried to suppress her fear and asked, “Darling, isn’t this a bit too fashionable?”
“Not as fashionable as some other things in the house,” he said decisively. “Blindfold her.”
“No, I like watching you do it, I like…”
“This is for my amusement, not yours; blindfold!”
She knew that if she didn’t, he would have Peter blindfold her for him. So she took a black velvet cloth, tied it over her head, and pulled it down, covering her eyes. Her whole world went dark.
“Lie on your back,” the Baron instructed. She began to roll over, but her body slipped off the sofa and she fell. Her blindfold made it difficult for her to maintain her balance and move back to her original position, but she knew Deet was standing beside her. What terrified her was that he didn’t help her. She screamed softly in fear as she fell from the sofa to the floor, her right hip slamming hard. She gritted her teeth and didn’t groan in pain.
“Go back to the sofa, darling, this is such a waste of time.”
She shakily stood up and reached for the sofa. Then, struggling to stand up, she was afraid of falling to the other side. When she finally lay back on the sofa, she was drenched in sweat, clumps of hair clinging to her face.
"Put a bikini on her, Peter," the Baron commanded.
Katya felt Peter's large hands guide her legs into the opening at the bottom of the bikini, then he laboriously pulled the thick rubber up her sweaty muscles. She lifted her hips to help Peter, despite hating the annoying thing and what she was about to do.
“Don’t move,” Diet said coldly. “Leave Peter to his own devices.”
Katya’s breathing quickened as the Baron watched with interest as her breasts rose and fell. He knew she didn’t like this; he was pleased with his choice of punishment.
The rubber bikini bottom was finally pulled into place. Katya suddenly felt Peter’s long fingers carefully pulling at her labia through the bikini between her legs. She knew her vulva had to be fully exposed, the taut rubber making it bulge so the Baron could easily find his target with the short whip. After Peter positioned Katya, he rubbed a finger against the tender flesh around her clitoris. The unexpected touch made her flinch, but at the same time she felt drops of moisture begin to trickle from her rapidly wetting vagina. The Baron pushed Peter aside, looking down at Katya. “Bitch!” he chuckled softly; she felt the end of the whip move up her left leg slightly before he removed it.
“Sit up,” he called after a moment of silence. She did as she was told, but swayed as she sat up, hating the darkness around her. Peter lifted her arms and quickly pulled the bikini up to her shoulders, then clamped it behind her back with a large metal clip. The bra had small holes cut into the flaps, and this time the Baron lifted it, taking turns sucking hard on her nipples. As her breasts swelled, the rubber pressed even tighter against her body, making her nipples and areolas protrude, becoming targets for the Baron's attacks again.
"Great! Lie flat again, lift your hips, hold on a little longer." Katya could hear his short, rapid breathing, but his voice was steady, without any of the excitement she was familiar with. She felt a cool breeze between her buttocks as she lifted them, and suddenly remembered the hole in the lower part of the bikini. It was for them to penetrate. The Baron's hand groped for the hole, inserting a finger for a moment to confirm everything was connected correctly. His fingers moved erratically between her buttocks, his nails scraping against the taut muscles. “I find this much tighter than the first time I used it on you, perhaps you’ve gained a little weight,” he said, withdrawing his finger. “Now lower your hips, we’re ready to begin.”
Katya lay quietly on the sofa. She knew Pierre was still standing in the corner of the room; the thought excited her, because she knew that as long as the sexual activity so far had been with a man, it was fine. Peter was still beside her; she could smell his freshly shaved beard and almost feel his arousal. But she didn’t know where the Baron was. The silence was as deep as darkness, and she had no choice but to wait. As she waited, fear and sexual arousal rose simultaneously, the fear fueling her desire.
Peter stood naked to one side, watching his master’s mistress, her body tightly bound in a bikini top, feeling the urge rising up to his abdomen. His testicles were hard, but he knew he couldn’t release them yet. Before the time was up, he glanced at the Baron, waiting for his signal. As soon as the time came, he reached out and began circling and caressing Katya's upper abdomen. His touch was precisely at the top of the merciless bikini. Katya sighed softly, knowing she should restrain herself, but she still slightly raised herself to meet the source of pleasure. She had made a mistake. The Baron flicked his finger, tracing a bright red mark across her protruding nipple with the short riding crop in his hand. Katya gasped, making a sound like a gasp. She bit her lip as the pain intensified, only subsiding after a few seconds. Peter's hand returned to her upper abdomen. This time, she lay still, but the intoxicating pleasure Peter evoked caused her muscles to swell. This made the rubber bikini bandage tighten even more, her breasts feeling as if they were about to burst.
The Baron gestured again. Peter lowered his head and began to suckle the already red nipple, letting his saliva moisten the bright red area. Then he licked the entire exposed part of the breast with his tongue until finally he couldn't control himself and had to take the entire nipple and surrounding flesh into his mouth.
Katya, with her eyes covered, found the pleasure Peter aroused even more effective than usual. As they sucked hard on her swollen breasts, Katya felt a tantalizing surge in her lower abdomen. This pleasure traveled up her body until it merged with the pleasure on her breasts.
The Baron watched as her legs spread limply as Peter played with her, and he stood at the other end of the sofa, waiting for Katya's upper body to arch. He didn't stay long. Katya desperately wanted to scream with pleasure. She wanted to move her arms to embrace Peter's head, but she knew all too well that she couldn't. However, she couldn't resist pressing her shoulders down into the sofa, forcing her nipple more firmly into Peter's mouth, only to have it immediately withdrawn. Almost as the air began to cool her damp breasts, the Baron raised his hand and lashed out again, striking with perfect accuracy, leaving a second red mark on the already scarlet nipple. The pain outweighed the pleasure, and Katya cried out suddenly.
"Hush!" the Baron whispered, his steady tone making her agitated body tremble. "Pierre," the Baron continued calmly, "grab her ankles and spread her legs; we don't need to wriggle now. Peter, you hold her shoulders, and take this. We'll need it later." Alone
in the darkness Deet had created for her, Katya longed to know what he was handing Peter, yet dared not ask. The inability to see anything seemed to rob her of courage; she dared not do anything that might worsen her situation. Part of the reason was that she knew this was a crucial step in the game, and she had to take risks to get a high score before playing this role. But as long as the rules remained the same. A moment later, she finally understood Abigail's confusion, but the thought was quickly pushed to the back of her mind. She immediately felt a desire to make Cassandra suffer more intensely than in any of her previous competitions before the game ended.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the touch of a tongue between her thighs. Because Peter was holding her shoulders and Pierre was gripping her ankles, she knew it was Deet's tongue, but this time it was different from how he used it in that area before. This time it was lighter, almost as delicate as a gentle lover's first caress.
She could feel the blood rushing through her body. The taut rubber sleeve made everything happening to her even more intense. As Peter held her shoulders, he also licked her neck and earlobes; at the same time, the Baron's tongue slowly squeezed between her vulva, precisely licking up and down the flesh below her erogenous zones. The excited spot itself stirred its own life rhythm.
She felt fluid flowing from her there and heard the Baron licking it away with soft, appreciative breaths. Just as his tongue was moving with great vigor, Katya felt the short whip touch her waist; she knew one of his hands was still gripping the handle.
Peter's tongue slipped into Katya's ear, probing and swirling, knowing Katya liked it. Her hips twitched involuntarily. "Calm down," the Baron whispered. Katya realized with horror that her labia were swollen, that this part was exposed and vulnerable. She tried her best to remain calm.
After a seemingly endless exchange of labia and tongue, the Baron finally reached down to her crotch and carefully pulled back the protective cap on her clitoris, revealing the extremely sensitive flesh. She felt the short whip begin to move, from her abdomen down until she could no longer feel it.
Now, the Baron fully exposed her clitoris. She seemed to feel a stirring, a stirring so intense, a desire for release, a longing to reach orgasm. Following the Baron's further instruction, Peter quickly moved his mouth to the nipple untouched by the whip, biting it with his teeth until it formed a small dot in his mouth. At the same time, one of his large hands caressed the breast, which bore two marks from the short whip, his fingers pinching it until Katya's tightly closed mouth emitted a soft moan.
The Baron carefully observed his mistress, one hand slipping inside the bandaged belt until his fingers reached into her pubic hair. Then his palm rotated, pulling the taut muscles, pressing them tightly against the bandage, further exposing her lower body. Pierre held her ankles tightly, spreading her legs, and waited, his eyes gleaming with an excitement he had never felt before.
The Baron's hand returned to Katia's labia, two fingers pushing into her moist vaginal opening, then quickly flicking them left and right inside, watching his mistress's head twist and turn on the sofa. He then swiftly withdrew his fingers, and as her head movements slowed, he inserted them again, this time with three; they swirled inside her vagina, touching the vaginal walls, finally flicking at Katia's clitoral stimuli.
This was too much for Katia. Peter was sucking and squeezing her aching breasts with such force that she felt as if they were about to burst from their bandages, the urge to release rising in her lower abdomen, spreading throughout her body, her stomach taut like a drum. Waves of excitement surged through her until her body could no longer bear it. She knew her clitoris was erect, and she knew what would happen if she reached orgasm, but she had no choice.
"Please!" she whispered, hoping for permission.
"No!" The Baron's voice was filled with an unyielding tone.
"I must, I must...!" she screamed frantically, despising herself for it.
"No!" he repeated calmly, flicking her clitoris again with his finger.
Katya's whole body tensed, her nerve endings stretched to their limit, her stomach bulged, her breasts swelled, the pleasure oppressing her, threatening to burst her if she didn't find an outlet. She desperately tried to distract herself, but couldn't. The surge reached its peak; she screamed in despair and gave in. She felt as if her whole body had been suddenly lifted off the bed.
This feeling lasted only a moment, because in the midst of the excitement, the Baron's whip lashed down, striking her particularly vulnerable clitoris, causing pain she had never experienced before. Just as she twisted her body to avoid the pain, Peter reached out and grabbed her buttocks, roughly turning her over and pulling her close to his body. He then forcefully shoved his penis into the second opening of the bandage, the area still painfully clenched from the Baron's whipping. She cried out in pain. Then, she felt Peter's warm ejaculation flow into her body. The pain instantly transformed into intense pleasure. The Baron watched with amusement as his mistress's thigh muscles straightened, her loosened heels tapping at the other end of the sofa.
Peter groaned with relief, finally able to relax his throbbing testicles. He paid no attention to the blindfolded, dancing woman he was using. Instead, he was grateful to the Baron for finally allowing him to enjoy this woman.
The manservant, having finished, withdrew, watching his master also pull down his trousers, revealing his hard, erect penis, the glans glistening with moisture. He rubbed the head of his penis against Katya's injured, red vaginal opening for a while. He smiled as he watched the part of his mistress's body twitch and convulse under the gentle caress of his genitals. He was satisfied with Katya because, although her body was tense with fear and rekindled sexual tension, she made no sound this time.
Then, he slowly and gently climbed onto the sofa, squatted directly above his mistress, and pressed his erect penis down so that he could caress her nipples, which were still red and alluring, protruding from her rubber bra. Katya gritted her teeth; she loved the way a man's penis caressed her breasts, the soft touch giving her a sense of sublimation, but her breasts and the area between her thighs still ached. This pain was caused by his torment above her, and she was more relieved that the action was over.
After a few minutes, the Baron continued his seduction of her breasts, watching her skin stretch and expand, rubbing his glans against them, leaving a clear trail of fluid. Then, he lifted his mistress's upper body, shaking her a few times so her head wouldn't sink onto the sofa, but instead drooped limply backward, exposing her Adam's apple, which she desperately tried to swallow.
The Baron imagined how much she must hate what he was about to do. This thought only amplified his pleasure. Katya remembered too. She began to shake her head back and forth. But Peter immediately rushed over, clamping his hands tightly around her temples, his fingers digging into her scalp, tears streaming from her blindfolded eyes.
"Open your mouth," the Baron commanded sternly. She did as he said. Otherwise, it would only prolong her suffering. "Good girl!" she trembled. Then, he forced his penis down and shoved it into her mouth. He thrust it between her upper teeth, straight down her throat, pumping it in and out violently. She was nearly choking. He'd never seen a penis so big. She feared she'd choke to death before the Baron was finished. In the darkness, her only sensation was him pumping in her throat, blocking her airway. She tried to relax her throat muscles, as he'd taught her long ago, but fear prevented her. As her heart pounded, her throat stung from his violent movements. He finally climaxed, his hot, sticky fluid gushing out, filling her mouth and throat. She choked.
The Baron immediately withdrew his penis, his eyes vacant. Peter began to loosen his grip, but the Baron frowned, displeased, and said, "Hold her tight. She has to swallow it all." Katya swallowed mouthful after mouthful. A sharp pain shot through the back of her neck where she had rested on the sofa, and her entire body was chafed. After all this torment, she wanted to cry because of the maddening humiliation; she hadn't been treated like this in many years. But she dared not cry. If she did, it would be tantamount to surrendering, surrendering before it even began, losing before Cassandra had even faced a single test; this thought kept her in check.
Finally, the Baron was satisfied to see that she had swallowed every last drop. He had Peter release her head, and he personally placed it back in its place, observing her thoughtfully for a moment before reaching out to remove the blindfold.
Katya looked up at him, still unable to see anything for a moment. She blinked, readjusting to the light. But the Baron knew that this one instance had instilled a hint of fear in her deep green eyes, and he raised an eyebrow at her triumphantly.
“Perhaps you’ll remember this, and next time you can only touch someone with permission, right?”
Katie was about to promise him she would wait for his permission and swear she would never disobey him again, something he had been demanding for years; but her sixth sense told her the rules were different now. “Perhaps,” she replied coldly, and he gave her an admiring look before walking away and disappearing from her sight.
“Help her out of that tattered outfit and get her to the bathroom,” he ordered simply. “She needs to rest before dinner.”
“I can do it myself,” she said sternly as Peter approached. The valet retreated to see what the Baron had to say.
The Baron shrugged indifferently. “Let her be. Pierre, you should go. I hope you’re not expecting extra pay for working overtime.”
The masseur shook his head, almost unable to believe what he was seeing. He thought excitedly how he would have stories to tell his friends when they met that evening. "That's good!" the Baron said happily. "And naturally, I don't want a single word to slip out of your mouth."
"Of course not!" Pierre lied enthusiastically.
The Baron smiled and watched him leave. He quickly picked up the phone and whispered into it, "Make sure the masseuse doesn't get home tonight."
Katya finally managed to remove her bandages and settled into the deep, shell-shaped bathtub. Her hands moved from top to bottom, caressing her chafed breasts, then touched her groin, where the flesh was particularly tender. She trembled, a thrill of joy welling up inside her. The world of Deeters was dark and strange, the only place she felt truly suited to live. She doubted whether she could exist anywhere outside of Handespie.
Chapter Three
The first thing Cassandra noticed as she stepped through the oak doors of the dining room was the heat. It was a very warm day in late May. She had learned from Katia that the house was air-conditioned and had expected a pleasantly cool dinner. In reality, the house was like a sauna; thick, dark green windows kept out the crisp night air, leaving only the stifling heat of the day. To her surprise, a fire was still burning in the fireplace as she walked towards the long dining table.
Katia was already seated at the table. She wore a lake-blue velvet dress, off-the-shoulder with a lace-trimmed neckline, and the jeweled necklace around her neck gleamed in the candlelight in the center of the table. Her pale blonde hair was piled high on her head, and her complexion, a heavily tanned, rosy hue, made Cassandra appear pale in comparison.
"What a beautiful dress," Katia greeted her sweetly.
Cassandra initially thought her outfit was quite nice—a pale pink, fitted, calf-length silk pleated skirt. Compared to Katia's attire, she truly felt like a prematurely grown child wearing a party coat.
"This color is quite charming," Katia added. "Pink complements your skin tone; it makes you look rosier."
"It's so hot in here," Cassandra said tentatively.
Katia smiled and said, "I know, Deetot likes to do things this way."
"Likes what?" Cassandra asked, puzzled.
“It’s unbelievable. When it’s hot, he insists on lighting a fire, and when it’s cold, he opens the windows and turns off the heat. His mind is all about controlling people’s bodies. He believes that consciousness can control everything. Tonight, we have to believe it’s cool, then we’ll feel cool. Don’t you find that idea admirable?”
“Impossible. I mean, cool is cool, and hot is hot.”
“Maybe I didn’t explain it clearly. I’m afraid I’m really too stupid, completely brainless. That’s not Deet’s point of view!” She chuckled.
“Can I sit anywhere?” Cassandra asked.
“You sit there, with your back to the fireplace.”
Cassandra sat down, feeling the intense heat. She pulled a small handkerchief from her purse and patted the sweat from her upper lip, thinking she was having a nightmare.
“Why don’t you offer Cassandra a drink?” the Baron said to Katya as he entered the room. He tugged at his shirt sleeve to warm it by the fire. "What a terrible hostess she'll think you are, Katya?"
Katya hurried toward the tea cabinet. The Baron took Cassandra's left hand and brought it to his lips, his lips brushing
against her arm. This slight touch sent a pleasant tremor through her arm, and she almost abruptly pulled her hand away.
"How are the children?" he continued calmly. "I'm sure they won't cause you any trouble."
"They're all well-behaved. Helena doesn't want rice pudding, and she seems to want shaved ice, but apart from that…"
"I often change the menu," the Baron explained, watching Katya hand Cassandra a large glass of wine.
"I think life is quite interesting when it's unpredictable."
"Only when these surprises make people happy," Cassandra replied dryly, downing a glass of wine in one gulp, because she was extremely thirsty.
The Baron watched her head and neck stiffen as she downed the glass, his eyes narrowing, his fingers tapping the table. Katya reached out to cover his hand to calm his agitation.
"But life has too many unpleasant surprises, and it's best for children to face disappointment early on, don't you agree?" he asked.
"Not necessarily. Childhood is precious. As you said, life may be tough, but if you have a safe start, it's much easier to cope with life once you grow up."
The Baron leaned towards the table, refilling her glass. "Tell Luz to serve dinner, Katya. I'm afraid I can't agree with you, Cassandra. Meeting different people is a good thing, isn't it? Teaching them that there are different ways to look at life."
"Am I teaching you, or are you teaching me?" Cassandra asked, surprised at her own courage to contradict him, realizing she should have drunk her wine more slowly.
"My good lady, we teach each other! Wine, Luz, how perfect!"
Cassandra wanted something like a slice of cucumber or bubbly ice cream; she had no appetite for a bowl of steaming, greasy vegetable soup. She glanced at the table for some water.
“Would you like some salt?” Katya asked, pushing the silver condiment rack towards him.
“I really want some water.”
“No,” the Baron said simply and forcefully, “Luz, bring some more wine.”
The candlelight on the table emitted a mingled scent of wine and charcoal, and the hot soup was hot enough for Cassandra. She felt her eyelashes stinging and beads of sweat forming on her back. Finally, she gave up on the soup, pushing the bowl away. The Baron glanced at his mistress sitting at the lower end of the table, and they smiled at each other. The soup was followed by steak and creamy apple pie. Cassandra only took a few sips without any appetite, while Katya devoured everything laid out before her at the other end of the table. All Cassandra could do was drink.
She herself couldn’t tell how much she drank; the Baron didn’t let her see him add more wine to her glass.
Finally, she felt lightheaded and dizzy, as if she were about to faint. The Baron pushed back his chair. "Let's go to the side room for coffee, Lutz. You can put out the fire now."
Cassandra stood up, staggering. The Baron immediately stood beside her, supporting her elbow firmly with one hand. "Come on, Cassandra, it's cooler in the side room, you'll feel better." She leaned against him, trying to take a step, but her legs suddenly went weak. Katya stepped forward to help the Baron, but he waved her away.
In the side room, the windows were open, but the air conditioning was on. Cassandra took a deep breath of cool air and gratefully settled into a high-backed armchair. When she came down for dinner, she had loosely tied her hair into a bun. The heat in the dining room had dampened her hair, and strands of it clung to the back of her neck, forming brown whorls that made the Baron want to reach out and pluck them from her creamy skin. He didn't, thinking he could do it sooner or later.
Lutz entered, bringing coffee on a tray. The Baron retreated to a chair in a corner of the room, stretching out his legs. As soon as Lutz left, Katia sat down opposite Cassandra, leaning towards her. "Were you trying to stay cool tonight?" she asked calmly. "You've been looking very hot. I must remind you, I used to find it difficult too, but in time, you learn to take control of your body and adapt it to different situations."
"I haven't been thinking about anything but the heat," Cassandra admitted, a chilling realization creeping over her dress, making it feel like an extra layer of skin.
"Have some coffee," Katia urged.
"I just want water. I feel a little dizzy," she said, her head throbbing, making it hard to concentrate on what Katia was saying.
"Coffee can help clear your head," the Baron began. "Besides, if you can't control yourself, how can you control my daughters? The will is here," he flicked his head, "pain, pleasure, comfort, discomfort—we can control them all, can't we, my dear?" As he spoke, he stood up behind his mistress.
Cassandra stared at the rim of her coffee cup. His hand reached out from behind his mistress and pressed against her shoulder. She took a quick sip; it was strong and slightly bitter, but not alcohol. The cup was empty. She placed it on the tea table beside her chair and leaned back. The room seemed to expand, and so did the figures of the Baron and his mistress, as if they were looming over her. She knew the coffee was doing her no good; it only made her feel more peculiar.
Katya's eyes blinked at her from the other side of the room, and Cassandra sat up abruptly. The Baron's hand roamed over Katya's arm, gently circling his fingers, as if hypnotizing her. Cassandra's own skin tensed, as if he were touching her.
Slowly, slowly, his fingers moved back, long fingers caressing the side of Katya's neck, then unexpectedly slipped inside the V-neck of her dress, revealing her slightly protruding breasts. Cassandra's heart leaped into her throat. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't. Despite the air conditioning, she felt hot, hotter than in the dining room, and her mouth was even drier.
His fingers teased that area for a long time; Cassandra could see Katya's breasts swelling, her clothes tightly clinging to her lower body. The Baron, who had been keeping his head down, suddenly raised it, bringing it close to Cassandra's eyes, then lowered it again until his head touched Katya's breast. His left hand slid inside her V-neck. Cassandra wondered if she was seeing things; he gently lifted one round mound, then pressed his palm against her stomach, pushing upwards until the breast emerged from the collar. The erect nipple was already in his mouth.
Cassandra's heart pounded; she felt she could hear her own heartbeat. Her breasts trembled, hoping his skilled fingers would touch her breasts the way they had touched Katya. No one had ever touched Cassandra like this before. Paul's clumsy groping was tedious, bearing no resemblance to the Baron's revelry in toying with Katya. Even through her drunken mind, she could still discern what her body needed, what it wanted, and if she couldn't have it, she'd rather die.
Katya murmured with pleasure as the Baron repeatedly pressed his lips against her breasts, silencing her cries of pleasure.
Soon, Katya's buttocks began to squirm in the chair; she leaned forward to meet the Baron's free hand, guiding it to her lower abdomen. His hand lingered there, his tongue danced over her breasts.
Cassandra now heard herself panting, her abdomen trembling inexplicably, her breasts seeming to swell like Katya's. Her entire body became so sensitive that even the touch of her silk skirt to her knees felt unbearably itchy, and unconsciously, she slowly raised her hands to grasp her own breasts.
When Katya's body finally calmed down, the Baron released her and walked toward Cassandra. His eyes were fixed on her breasts; she didn't realize he was still caressing the wrinkles on her chest. He knelt in front of her, particularly enjoying her slightly parted lips, her bright, eager eyes, and her tense body. "You see," he said softly, "there's always a way to distract yourself from your discomfort. Katya was just as hot as you were in the restaurant; she didn't want to eat those foods even more than you did, but she knew that if she ate them, she would win a prize.
" Suddenly, Katya's moans turned into labored gasps, and her hips moved more urgently. The Baron's hand was already on her lower abdomen, his movements no longer refined. The petite blonde's entire body trembled violently in the chair. Cassandra watched this scene hopelessly, her eyelids too heavy to lift. The other woman felt relieved, but she felt tense. Cassandra was still unaware that she, too, needed this relief.
“Don’t you want a reward?”
Cassandra looked back at him, imagining him reaching out to comfort her, caressing her throbbing breasts. The thought terrified her; she knew it was a lewd mistake, but the moment was of utmost importance.
“Please,” she whispered.
“What?” He smiled, his most captivating smile, smoothing a stray strand of hair with his fingers.
“Touch me!” she pleaded.
“No,” he continued, still indulging her laughter.
She couldn’t speak, though she was half-drunk, she still couldn’t say it, she shook her head helplessly.
“Tell me what you want,” he said softly, “I don’t know what you want, how can I help you?”
“I want…” She swallowed hard, her breasts tensing into lumps, her nipples painfully hard against the folds of her clothes, but she couldn’t find the right words to express her needs.
"Really?"
Her eyes filled with tears. "I can't say it," she murmured.
"Silly girl! Here, have some more wine."
She tried to push the glass away, but he insisted. He held the glass to her lips, and as soon as she opened her mouth and tilted her head back, he poured the wine down her slightly parted teeth, the cool liquid flowing down her throat.
"Well, the wine will help you. We'll come back in a few minutes." He stood up. "Kathia," the voice was no longer so refined, "you can leave us now."
Katia stood in the middle of the room, stunned. "No, I want to stay. It's always been this way."
He turned away from Cassandra, his face full of anger. "This is a different game, remember? You played well tonight, but one wrong step can lead to a series of mistakes!"
"You scoundrel!" she grumbled at him.
He said in a low voice, "Don't worry, I won't seduce her tonight. This is just setting a precedent for her."
"It's setting a precedent for you," Katya said sharply.
"You're free to leave now," the Baron reminded her, his eyes cold. "Is that what you wanted?"
"Of course not."
"Then let's go. You can always spend the night with Peter. I'll come find you later."
Katya left the room, full of complaints, and the Baron returned to Cassandra, who was half-reclined in a chair, her eyelids drooping. "Come on, darling, have a little more, and we can try again, okay?"
Cassandra was powerless to resist. This time, she almost greedily responded to him like a drunkard. He brought the glass to her lips again and carefully poured the wine into her mouth between her lips. He felt the wine flowing into her wet mouth, and his mind drifted to her other lips, another opening, which would one day be his.
After a while, she found herself sucking on his finger, her tongue savoring the smooth, wine-soaked skin. She heard him sigh, withdraw his finger, and the glass remained at her lips.
"Drink it down, Cassandra," he urged, "open your throat wide, drink it all." He poured slowly at first, but as soon as she stopped swallowing, he poured faster, making Cassandra cough. "Relax, savor the taste, the feeling, everything is pleasant," he said softly. His voice calmed her considerably, and she was able to swallow another large gulp. After finishing, she felt somewhat dazed.
Slowly, she raised her head again and found the Baron sitting on the back of her chair, his large brown eyes softer than usual. He nodded in approval. "That's great! I should reward you, but the rules must be followed."
"Rules?"
He laughed heartily. "You have to come up with your request, understand?"
Cassandra nodded, her eyes fixed on his hands resting on his knees. He knew what she was looking at. "Say it, say it," he urged her, "tell me what you want me to do."
"I want you to do to me what you did to Katya."
He shook his head. "That's not enough."
Cassandra's breasts were throbbing painfully; she couldn't bear it any longer.
"I want you to touch my breasts," she gasped. "Please, please do it."
His face was devoid of a smile; his expression was almost stern and rigid. "You see, it's not difficult at all. How can I touch them when you're wearing these ridiculous clothes?"
Cassandra looked at him, her mind clouded by the alcohol. "No, I didn't think of that."
"Take them off."
Her eyes filled with tears. "I can't, and Katya isn't off either."
The Baron reached out a hand and ran his fingers through the clothes covering her, causing her skin to throb. "It feels different, doesn't it?" he asked.
Cassandra shook her head. "No, but..."
"Lean forward," he said calmly. She almost collapsed, completely out of control. She did as he told her to do. She felt his hand tugging at her zipper. He pulled her up from the chair, his hand under her arm, causing her open dress to slip to the floor. He made her stand before him, wearing only French lantern-style trousers. He excitedly grasped her breast.
He gently removed the brooch from the back of her hair, letting her hair fall freely over her shoulders. Then he stepped back, scrutinizing her closely.
Cassandra looked at him, her breasts rising and falling, her small nipples erect and hardening under his gaze. She followed his eyes. His eyes scanned her from head to toe—her slender waist, her narrow hips—which pleased him greatly, while she hoped her legs wouldn't tremble so badly.
The Baron felt a bone stuck in his throat, and he didn't understand why, but he knew he'd experienced this feeling long ago. Life felt so dull, and he suddenly didn't want Katya to see what was going to happen next. This slender, naive girl in front of him was deriving pleasure from the scene he and Katya had played with that afternoon, and suddenly he felt his part was inappropriate.
In his mind, he was just catering to Katya's deep-seated masochism. It had always been a mistake. Well, if she was abused enough, she wouldn't care about understanding what was going to happen, and he would be surprised by it too. He turned around excitedly and tapped the small remote control box under the coffee table. Now they were truly alone in this side room.
Cassandra began to tremble. She had never before wanted a man's hand to touch her, nor had she ever had any desire for Paul to touch or kiss her, but now she craved it almost frantically, while he stood there completely calmly, just watching her.
The Baron saw the hesitation on her face and moved toward her. "Lie down on the carpet," he said calmly, placing his hand on her shoulder. She gratefully lowered herself; at least now he wouldn't see her legs trembling so violently. He sat down beside her and reached for the cap on the bottle. Cassandra opened her mouth automatically.
"No more drinking, you glutton," she said, looking up at him. He tilted the bottle, letting the wine splash onto her breasts, onto her hot, trembling flesh, making her gasp.
Almost aimlessly, he rubbed about both of her nipples with a finger, spilling wine all over their surface. Cassandra became more eager, lifting herself up towards him. "No, lie still. You have to lie still while we're having fun. If you move, I have to stop."
"Why?" she whispered.
He shrugged. "That's more fun. Now, I need to have some wine myself." She saw his head lower towards her breasts, his hot tongue licking the drops of wine that had splashed on her breasts and lower abdomen. She moaned with pleasure. His tongue, as light as moss or a feather, was almost licking a dish of cream cheese. After a while, he grasped her breasts with his hands, pushing them upwards, taking as many of the mounds of flesh as possible into his mouth. He began to suckle very carefully, then increased the force until her breasts were so swollen that she felt pain.
Cassandra's head began to shake excitedly. The Baron sucked in some strange way, his licking making things worse rather than better. This made her body desperately crave his caresses. Cassandra instinctively knew she couldn't do this. Whatever she needed, she had to ask, and at that point, she had no choice. Besides, she didn't want him to leave her beautiful, sensitive nipples.
The dart of pleasure appeared, turning into flames. She felt her upper body on fire, but didn't realize her legs were starting to press incessantly against the thick blanket, letting the woolen fabric distract her.
The Baron knew what was happening; she began to wriggle her hips. He freed one hand to touch her stomach. "No, not tonight, Cassandra. Serve quietly," he murmured, lifting his head from her throbbing, creamy breasts, noticing the flushed red on her neck and chest. He knew he could bring her to orgasm in seconds.
Cassandra felt his hand on her waist, and her hips stopped wriggling. The effort to remain calm was immense, simply because she so desperately wanted to please him, to let him know she could obey his commands.
He looked at the delicate buds of her breasts, marveling at her childlike innocence; her eyes held nothing but pure naivety.
He pulled his hand away and touched the clock on the control panel, then used his index finger and thumb to pinch her nipple. At first, it was so light she didn't notice, but as the pressure increased, it hurt, and she let out a soft "Ouch."
"Shh, wait, trust me, this will do you good," Cassandra groaned in dissatisfaction, her neglected mouth also yearning for his. The pain in her other breast negated the pleasure she had experienced for half an hour. Suddenly, the pain turned into another kind of pleasure, and her head slammed to the ground.
Seeing this, the Baron lowered his head, took her other nipple into his mouth, first biting it with his teeth, then pursing his lips tightly and sucking with all his might, while simultaneously gripping the other nipple forcefully.
This sensation surged through Cassandra's entire body; she closed her eyes, glistening on her eyelashes, and the swelling in her belly increased, but his hand pressing on her buttocks prevented her from moving. Suddenly, a jolt ran through her body as if an electric current had struck, and she let out a loud scream. Sweat poured down her face, and a sticky liquid soaked her underwear.
The Baron sat up straight and watched Cassandra stare blankly at her breasts, which were no longer trembling. She was limp, as if exhausted from swimming thirty meters and then running a long-distance race.
His eyes held no tenderness, which frightened her. Her mind was clear now. She didn't believe she had made him do this—no, she had asked him to. She was about to speak, to apologize or something, when she was suddenly surprised to find someone else in the room. She gasped, clutching her breasts, but the Baron pried them apart.
"Just Lutz, not the servants."
"You rang the bell, sir," Lutz said politely.
"Yes, a pot of tea, Chinese tea, with lemon."
"Yes, sir." Lutz's face showed no sign that she had seen anything unusual. Cassandra was terrified. She felt ashamed, as if she had been played. She tried to get up, but the Baron reached out and supported her elbow.
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You were aroused and hoping I would excite you. So I agreed. If you're hungry, I'll feed you; it's the same thing."
Cassandra opened her mouth as if to tell him that she wouldn't have let him touch her if she hadn't been made to drink so much, but the words wouldn't come out.
"Have you ever had an orgasm before? Tell me, don't lie, or I'll know."
Cassandra lowered her head. "No," she said painfully, "I've never." "
Your husband must be a clueless idiot," the Baron said calmly. "You're very sexy, Cassandra, I knew that the first time I saw you. Tonight's events are nothing, nothing at all. You have so much to learn, so much to experience, you'll love it all," his eyes gleaming with excited hope.
"I want to leave," Cassandra said calmly.
The Baron simply smiled. "Of course you don't want to leave. How can you leave me now? Your body is just beginning to come alive." He reached out and slid his hand across her French panties, following the sticky area. "Don't you want to know what it feels like to be kissed there? Don't you want me to touch your whole body?" He said, his eyes fixed on her, making her feel embarrassed. She felt the liquid slide down again and saw the smile on his face, knowing he had touched that spot. "You are special, Cassandra, very special. You can't leave now. You need someone like me, someone to teach you what your body can do, to teach you how to control your body."
This last sentence made her tremble with excitement, for reasons she couldn't explain. When Luz came in with the tea tray, she was still staring blankly at him.
"Put it on the table, Luz. Don't you think Cassandra has a good figure?" he said casually.
Luz smiled happily at Cassandra. "You're beautiful, sir. I wish I were taller and slimmer too."
He laughed. "I think you've done a great job. Now go, you can go to sleep. I don't need you tonight."
Cassandra glared at him. "Why are you even humiliating me?" He was surprised; he was almost moved by the displeasure in her eyes.
"I'm not humiliating you, Cassandra. I'm telling you, there's nothing to be ashamed of about sex. You'll learn a lot about sharing later. Maybe it's too fast now."
Cassandra wanted his hand to leave her crotch; that hand made her restless, made her muscles hot and tense. He saw her face begin to show the old expression again and suddenly realized what was wrong. He immediately withdrew his hand. That was enough for her tonight. As usual, by this time, he would take her to her own room. But there was still something about her that puzzled him. She might arouse his curiosity more than any other woman.
“Go to sleep,” his voice was so gentle, one that Katya had never heard before. “By morning, it all seemed like a dream.”
She sat up, frantically searching for her clothes, then began to frantically and quickly put them on. The Baron shook his head, helped her to her feet, and began to pull her clothes down, smoothing them over her buttocks and lower abdomen. He could feel her flesh twitching with pleasure again.
“I don’t understand,” Cassandra murmured, her eyes opening wearily. The drugs and alcohol were beginning to take effect. “I thought…”
He lifted her chin, looking intently at her. “What do you think?”
“I thought you had to fall in love with someone to…”
“Love isn’t like that at all, Cassandra,” he whispered. “Love is a myth, a fable, a fairy tale, meant to stop women from committing sexual crimes. Sexuality, lust, arousal—those are real, but not love.”
Cassandra wrapped her arms around him. He was wrong, she knew. But after this incident, she had no grounds to argue with him. "How am I supposed to take care of your child now?" She moved away from him.
"I knew you perfectly well when I chose you, and this has nothing to do with my child. Go get some sleep now. I'll be away for the day tomorrow and will be back for dinner. If the weather's nice, we'll eat outdoors; it'll be cool for all of us." She closed the door behind her, and he laughed heartily.
It was four in the morning when the Baron climbed into his circle, and Katya was still wide awake. Her eyes burned as she stared into the darkness. She wanted to watch the CCTV, but it was completely black. She couldn't believe it and snapped at Peter, demanding he fix it. He told her that Deet had turned it off, and she screamed at Peter like a shrew. She had never done this before, so she was frightened.
"Still awake, Katya?" the Baron asked softly.
“Yes,”
“Are you and Peter doing well?”
“Probably not as well as you and Cassandra.”
He laughed. “Probably not.” He reached out and scratched Katia’s back. “I hope you don’t think about arguing; that would be a big mistake.”
“Why would I argue?” He spread his arms, as if that were the case. “I’m thinking of getting Robert and Franz here soon; maybe you should take care of that.”
Katia perked up. Even if Cassandra could handle Deet and the others in the house, she definitely couldn’t handle Robert and Franz. No one could handle the couple except her. That’s why even after poor Marita left, she was still there. Marita had fallen in love with her indulgent husband and, even more foolishly, had confessed her true feelings to him.
"Don't you think Helena looks more and more like her mother?"
"Maybe, it would be even better if she looked like me! As an interesting topic, Katia, did you enjoy what you did at the gym this afternoon?"
This was a sore spot for Katia. "Yes," she said proudly, "the pain was unimaginably wonderful, I've never felt so satisfied."
(To be continued)

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