Cassandra's Conflict (28 page)

Cassandra pushed herself into a sitting position. 'How many slaves will there be at the party?' she asked nervously.

'Ten or twelve, I imagine. Enough for each group of guests to have one or two to themselves. Naturally you'll belong to our group, and I shall try and "buy" a male slave to go with you. It makes for better entertainment.'

Cassandra rubbed at her wrists. For a moment she felt like crying again. A few seconds earlier they'd really seemed close, as though there was an emotional bond between them, and yet now he was talking about her as entertainment at the forthcoming party.

'We must get some sleep,' he continued, ignoring the pain in her eyes. 'You might as well stay here. I dislike sleeping alone after sex.' It was a lie, normally he preferred to sleep alone, but Cassandra didn't know that, and so when he flung an arm over her back and fell almost instantly asleep, she didn't realise what a compliment he'd paid her. However, Katya who was keeping a watch on the comings and goings from the main bedroom knew, and it fuelled her already all-consuming hatred of the girl who would very soon belong to her and her friends for a whole evening.

As Cassandra and the baron slept, Katya and Françoise plotted while Rupert listened and mentally placed a bet on the final outcome of the party that promised to be one of the best the baron had ever held.

'How do I look?' Katya asked, spinning round in front of the baron as he dressed for the party. He turned round on his stool in front of the mirror and studied her with gratifying interest. She knew that the purple and black dress which clung tightly over her breasts and then hung in draped folds to her ankles was both striking and flattering.

'You look most attractive,' he assured her, but there was a note of amusement in his voice that she didn't care for.

'Is there something funny about it?' she demanded.

'Not at all. I take it that you chose purple because of its connections with Rome rather than because it suited you!'

'Françoise and I both thought it suited me. Anyway, you've never had any idea about fashion. It's only after a woman's taken her clothes off that you can call yourself a connoisseur,' she retorted.

He laughed. 'That's probably true. At least you'll make an impact, which I'm sure was the intention. How many are here?'

'Sixty-three at the last count. When does the slave auction begin?'

'Not until after we've dined. Are you looking forward to the grand finale?'

Katya hesitated. Normally she would have said yes. It was exactly the kind of entertainment that amused her and, with her particular sexual preferences and skills, a confrontation at which she would excel, but she knew better than to imagine it would be an easy victory. She had never expected Cassandra to get this far. The very fact that the girl was still there was worrying, and Katya knew that after tonight either she or her rival would leave his house for ever.

'Yes, I am,' she told him, hoping he hadn't noticed the pause. 'I'd like to see Cassandra totally lose control and give herself over to the pleasures we've taught her, but unfortunately I don't think that's going to happen. Mind you, it will be great fun trying to break through the last barriers!'

'You don't think it's going to happen?' The baron sounded thoughtful. 'If I were a betting man I'd say it was, but we will see. If I'm wrong and you're right, then we'll be looking for a new governess for the children from next week. I shall have no further use for her.'

'What if I'm wrong?' asked Katya, finally daring to voice the question she and Françoise had discussed endlessly over the past forty-eight hours. He rose from the stool and walked over to her, putting his hands on each side of her face and kissing her very lightly on the tip of her nose. 'In that case, you will be looking for a new benefactor and lover, my darling. So, as you can tell, the stakes are high. Now, I must finish dressing and then we will go down to dinner.'

As his hands released her, Katya's legs gave way and she sat down on the bed. She had never expected him to be so blunt. Their relationship went back many years, and she'd imagined she was as necessary to him as he was to her. With those few words he'd destroyed all her self-confidence, but he'd also made her even more determined to succeed.

As they went down to dinner together she concentrated her mind on what lay ahead. Cassandra would be the slave, forced to do anything the baron and his friends chose, and Katya would be one of his group. She would be in control of the situation, not Cassandra. Given that advantage she couldn't believe she'd fail. She dared not believe it because if Dieter cast her adrift she didn't know where in the world she would go.

Katya was a survivor. By the time she and Dieter entered the dining room her head was erect, her eyes shining and she held her lover's hand tightly in her own. No one there would have guessed that there was anything amiss in her world, and all through the meal she chattered and laughed with the other guests, occasionally catching the baron's eye and smiling at him across the table. He admired her for that.

Cassandra was not looking nearly as cheerful as her antagonist in the forthcoming confrontation. While Katya was laughing and talking with the other guests, Cassandra had been herded into a large attic at the top of the house where, along with a dozen or so other volunteers she was waiting to be fitted into her slave costume.

Peter was there as well, but to her surprise there was no sign of Lucy. Instead Clara was there, having presumably elected to be a slave for the night, although she was now looking as though she was regretting her decision as a tall, forbidding slave master fitted her into a complicated harness. This covered her sex with a leather shield which was attached to a chain round her waist while the top half, made entirely of black rubber, fitted her like a glove, covering everything except for her large breasts which stuck out in front of her for everyone to see.

Not all the slave girls wore the same costumes. Some were in short, satin tunics with matching satin panties which fitted snugly into their crotches, but in these cases their hands were fastened behind their backs so that they couldn't loosen the costume in any way.

The men, of whom there were only four, were all dressed the same. Their penises were covered in leather sheaths which were held against the sides of their legs by attached thongs, and they all had their wrists handcuffed; a light shackle round their left ankle prevented them from moving with any speed.

Cassandra, still in her own cotton skirt and blouse, shivered with apprehension as the slave master approached her. She assumed that he was a friend of the baron's but his eyes were a terrifying chill grey, like the sea in winter, and when he caught hold of her upper arms, his hands were rough.

'Name?' he demanded, tearing off her blouse before she had time to unfasten the buttons herself. She was so nervous that for a moment she couldn't find her voice and he pinched her right ear lobe hard until she gave a yelp of pain. 'Name?' he repeated.

'Cassandra,' she said softly. He gave her a more searching glance, as though the name meant something to him, and then pulled her bra straps from her shoulders. 'Hurry up and get your clothes off, girl,' he ordered. 'This is no time to start acting coy.'

Ridiculously considering what lay ahead of her, Cassandra wanted to protect her breasts from his gaze; however she had no choice but to take off all her clothes until she was standing naked in front of him. He ran a cold hand over her. 'A harness, I think,' he remarked, signalling for an assistant to bring him one.

Cassandra had been hoping for a tunic and panties; she didn't want to go out onto a stage or platform with her breasts wantonly displayed like Clara's, but she was relieved to find that this harness wasn't the same as the other girl's. Rings were slid up her legs supporting two pieces of webbed material held together in the middle by a chain with a padlock fitted in the centre of her sex lips. Her breasts were supported by a similar construction that lifted them without revealing anything and a small padlock covered the ends, resting lightly on her nipples. A slim chain was put round her waist and her hands were fastened at the front of this.

They were all ready over an hour before the guests had finished their meal, and this added to the general air of tension in the claustrophobic room. Cassandra was grateful when Peter, accompanied by another youth with fair hair and gentle blue eyes, came over to her.

'May I join you?' he queried apologetically.

'Of course! Are you as nervous as I am?' she asked.

He glanced at the slave master who was busy conversing with his assistant. 'Better keep your voice down or he'll separate us. To be honest, I'm more excited than nervous, but I had to get away from Clara. The sight of her tits when I'm wearing this hideous contraption is painfully arousing.'

For the first time, Cassandra took in the full significance of the leather sheath strapped firmly down, and she shivered in sympathy. 'Why did you volunteer?' she asked curiously.

'I like anything that's different. We had a wonderful masked ball in Venice once, but I think this is going to be even better. The baron's so inventive. What about you? I imagined you'd be one of the guests.'

Cassandra shrugged lightly. 'I suppose I thought I'd like to try something different too, but I'm beginning to regret it. I don't like this atmosphere much.'

'It's all meant to add to the authenticity. By the way, this is Anton. He's come over from Austria with a group of the baron's friends, and they drew lots to see which of them got to be the slave.'

Cassandra smiled at Anton in sympathy. 'And you lost!'

He shook his head. 'No, I won.'

She would never understand them all, she thought to herself. 'Why isn't Lucy here?' she asked Peter.

'The baron thinks she's had too much fun lately! Besides, Clara wanted her last night here to be special. After this she returns to her mother and stepfather, and then who knows what her life holds.' Remembering Claud, Cassandra didn't think there would be many pleasant surprises in it.

As time passed, some of the girls in tunics would slip out of the room to use the nearby bathroom and Cassandra realised this was probably a good idea. However, when she came to pass through the door the slave master stopped her.

'Where are you off to?'

'The bathroom.' She wished she didn't sound so nervous.

He smiled unpleasantly. 'Not much point is there? I haven't got a key for your chastity belt.' 'Who has?' she asked.

'It will be given to your new master. Now get out of the way, there are others who need to go there before the auction starts and time's getting short.'

Flushed with distress, Cassandra returned to Peter and Anton, who both sympathised. 'It's the same for us,' Peter pointed out. 'Don't worry. You'll be unlocked as soon as you're bought, and the baron's bound to be the one who buys you. I wish I knew who I was going to. I just hope it's not Claud. He can be vicious.'

'You mean Clara's stepfather's here tonight?' Cassandra asked in surprise.

'Of course. He's flown in specially to take her back with him.'

Before they could talk any further a gong sounded somewhere in the house, and at once the slave master called for silence. Then they were herded into groups of four, driven out of the room and down three flights of stairs then along a hallway to the large ballroom that ran the width of the back of the house. Cassandra had never been in there; as far as she knew it was normally kept locked. They weren't led straight in, but instead taken into a small ante-room which scarcely had space for them all and Cassandra quickly became aware of the odour of nervously perspiring bodies along with the sharper, musky scent of sexual arousal.

They could hear the murmur of voices through the small door leading out into the ballroom, and the murmur grew steadily louder the longer they waited. Just when Cassandra felt ready to scream with impatience, the gong was struck again, and immediately the four young men were led out. For a moment the voices came unhindered through the open door, and they all sounded high-pitched with excitement.

The slave master gripped Cassandra by the arm and pushed her towards the door, along with Clara and a tall brunette who was in the tunic costume. At the last moment, the slave master's assistant joined him and the two men swiftly blindfolded the three female slaves. As everything went dark, Cassandra wished with all her heart that she hadn't let herself be put in this position. Her pulse was racing wildly with fear, and as the door swung open and the voices in the ballroom rose to a crescendo she instinctively backed away from the ordeal that lay ahead.

The slave master had expected as much. He pushed her roughly in the back and she stumbled out into the ballroom, her hands chained in front of her, her skimpy webbed costume emphasising her slender form, and her nipples, now rigid with fear, pressed against the tiny silver padlocks.

The baron was seated at the front of the room, and as she came into view his throat went dry with excitement. She looked wonderfully vulnerable with her hands in chains and her eyes covered, while her parted lips and hesitant steps revealed the fear she was experiencing.

Katya stood next to him and watched as the three girls were pushed up the hastily erected ramp and onto the platform where orchestras had once played for the balls that Dieter and Marietta had held when they first moved into the house. As Clara tripped over the top step her breasts bounced and there was a collective sigh of appreciation from the men.

Then the bidding started. For Cassandra, facing the front but unable to see anything, it was the worst moment so far. Clara was sold first, and the sale was quickly completed. Cassandra recognised the voice of the purchaser as belonging to Claud. Next it was the brunette's turn, and this time the sale took longer. Many of the men came up on to the platform to feel the young woman's body, touch her through her satin panties and comment loudly on what their probing fingers discovered, while all the time Cassandra stood in shivering silence awaiting her turn.

Finally the brunette was taken away by a group of men and women and now Cassandra knew that she was standing alone in front of everyone. She didn't know what currency they were bidding in, but the first sum called out was a five figure one and it increased rapidly without her once hearing the baron's voice. At one stage a man came on to the platform and ran his hands over her, letting his fingers linger round her bare waist, and then he moved them up over the web-covered breasts and ran his fingertip in a circle round the silver padlocks. She shivered with a mixture of pleasure and nerves, and then he must have knelt down, because suddenly his hands were parting her legs and she could feel his breath between her thighs as his hands skimmed across the webbing that covered her sex. Finally he cupped her buttocks thoughtfully in both hands and increased the bid considerably as he left the platform.

After his offer there was a long silence. Cassandra wanted to open her mouth and call out for the baron to better the bid. She suddenly realised that if he went back on his word now, there was nothing she could do about it, and her bottom lip began to tremble.

The baron had been watching her closely, and when he finally saw that her natural fear was being overwhelmed by genuine terror he negligently raised his hand and made his own offer. It was a formality. There was no one there who could afford to bid higher, even if they had wanted to run the risk of offending him, and so a few minutes later Cassandra was being led down from the platform by Katya and as she was pulled through the crowd who were eagerly awaiting the next batch of slaves, hands reached out to touch and fondle her, and their laughter held a chilling note of cruelty.