Page 28

Chapter 5

As we went down the driveway, the knots in my belly tied themselves tighter and tighter. Finally, the shadowy outline of the enormous manse came into view. It was a heavy, monolithic building that seemed like it had grown out of the ground. Vines crept over its stone bricks, dark windows reflecting the moon and revealing nothing inside. It stretched out into the night, a silent, permanent monolith.

My door was opened by a man in a black suit and dark glasses. He offered a gloved hand that I gladly took until I managed to regain my balance. The heavy oak doors atop the worn stone steps opened with a groan and out strode a woman in a long, prim skirt and satin top. Her white hair was tied in a tight bun run through with a single stick, but a few locks had fallen and framed her angular cheekbones. She must have been stunning when she was young, as even now, her face traced with fine lines, she seemed agelessly elegant. Mature without being old.

"Come, Michaela," her voice floated through the cool night air. "It's time for your Debut."

I glanced at Mistress, who cocked her head in the woman's direction. She was already walking back towards the entrance, and I chased after her as best I could in my towering heels.

I felt radiant in my gown as it flowed around me. Its strictly boned bodice had a low sweetheart neckline that barely covered my nipples. It was covered in dense, spiraling floral patterns, with lace spraying off the edges and over my chest. Where the bodice reached my arms, a burst of shimmering tulle formed ruffle cap sleeves that rested at the edges of my clavicles. My chest would have felt very exposed, but it was covered in a layer of nearly invisible mesh covered in translucent embroidery and beading, interspersed with twinkling gems. The back was the same: apparently backless, with a line of tiny, white satin buttons appearing to float above my skin.

The skirt was bell-shaped and consisted of two parts — an underskirt made from layer after layer of translucent white silk, each trimmed in a tall band of white lace that brushed the floor, and an overskirt of white satin hung in deep U-shaped cascades. There were large satin bows where two U's came together in a point over each hip, and another at my waist where the overskirt, underskirt, and bodice came together.

"I am Victoria Tennesley," the woman explained as I followed her down the hallway.

Her voice had a slight lilting bounce to it; an accent I couldn't quite place. Definitely European.

"But as long as we have reason to speak with each other," she continued. "I expect you to refer to me as 'Madame Tennesley' or simply 'Madame.' Do you understand?"

"Yes, Madame," I said solemnly.

"It has been my family's responsibility to host the Debut for generations," Madame explained. "Thus, it falls to me to make sure that you are dressed appropriately, ready to perform, and to ensure you understand and execute your responsibilities."

I wore a jewel-encrusted tiara and a heavy diamond tennis bracelet, and as I strode after Victoria in my towering satin sandals, I felt like a royal, glittering gift. Something to be unwrapped and used. I was dressed and caged and pretty, all for the benefit of whoever wanted me the most.

I stiffened at the thought.

Mistress had selected my lingerie. When she gave it to me, I was surprised to find that it was bright red, though the stockings were white silk with a simple top band of red lace. It was a strapless lace basque constructed entirely from translucent lace, save for a satin panel in front. The panel was split down the middle and held together with hook and eye clasps, each covered with a red satin bow. The bottom was curved; low in the front over my cage but curving high over my hips. Three tiered rows of long lace trimmed the bottom, and thick garter straps emerged from it. The matching panties were completely open from front to back, revealing both my rear and my cage, framing both in delicate red lace.

Despite the many layers I now wore, somehow I felt more naked than ever. I was acutely aware of the heft of the dress and petticoat, my lascivious red lingerie, the cage. I was in a gown, ready to be displayed and used simply because that's what Mistress wanted. It was more than that, though — it was because I wanted it, too.

I felt the walls began to narrow and my breathing get faster. The dress was so hot, so heavy. It was so tight — it was crushing me, pulling me down into the floor. Something was pressing down on me from above. Everything was too tight, too close to me. I was trapped in these endless layers of silk and tulle and steel.

I had to get out. Had to run away, make it all stop. Make it end. It was too real, too true, the reality of it all crashing into me like a great wave. Dreams were supposed to stay dreams, fantasies supposed to stay in books. All of it happening here, now, to me, it was too much. I couldn't do it, I couldn't live up to what I was supposed to do, what she wanted me to do, what I wanted —

I felt someone squeeze my hand, a beacon in the darkness of my rising panic. I turned my head slowly, knowing I'd be sick if I did it any faster.

"Make me proud," Mistress murmured, her eyes full of warmth.

And suddenly my anxiety washed away. I felt my body steady, my heart began to calm. I gave her the strongest smile I could and squeezed her hand back.

"I will, Mistress," I said, voice strong.

She returned my smile. "I know."

I had joined the back of a line of other girls in extravagant white gowns like my own. At the front of a line was an ornately trimmed opening that Victoria stood next to. Every few minutes she rested a hand on a girl's shoulder, whispered something to her, then ushered her through. As we got closer, I could see thick purple curtains beyond the arch that each girl disappeared through.

It wasn't long before I was next in line, facing the door. I could hear raucous sounds from the other side of the curtain. Victoria leaned over to me, cupping a firm hand around my neck. She smelled like the forest after rain.

"Just smile, be pretty, and don't make a scene."

I felt her hand on the small of my back as she pushed me forwards towards the arch. I walked through almost automatically, without commanding my legs to move. For a moment, I was surrounded by muffled, barely audible sounds. Everything in the room was covered in purple velvet, save for a portrait of an austere-looking woman on one wall.

Then the curtain opened.

I was immediately hit with the sounds of a party and blinded by brilliant lights shining straight onto me. The roar of revelry flooded my ears as the spotlight swiveled onto me. There was a rushing sound in my ears, loud enough that I could barely hear a loud voice near me announcing a "Miss Saskia Burton's newest sissy Michaela!"

I could feel a hundred pairs of eyes staring at me, examining me, taking me apart, imagining me naked, in their bed, mouth wrapped around them, serving them breakfast, admiring my nails, my dress, my jewelry, quantifying me, measuring me, comparing me against the others. My eyes were just beginning to adjust. I saw them sitting at tables arranged on tiered risers, a twinkling bar behind them all. Drinks sat atop perfectly smooth white tablecloths next to small lamps that lit elegantly dressed women. Already, paddles with numbers were being raised and lowered as the voice next to me rattled off names.

"Mrs. Norwood with a handsome bid," shouted a high voice. "Travers higher. Decker — no, it's Norwood again!"

I curtseyed low, almost without thinking.

Be perfect. Prove to Mistress I deserve her. Prove I belong here.

The sound and light pressed in on me from all sides as I stood. I forced a smile to my face, then caught sight of a grinning woman eyeing me hungrily and found myself suddenly smiling for real. My gaze slid across the room to a large woman with a round face set with intelligent eyes. I winked at her, much to her delight. A woman wearing little more than a slip received a blown kiss, to which the raucous crowd erupted with wolf whistles and hooting.

"Norwood — Travers — Decker — Norwood — McLeod — Decker!" screamed the voice at my side with a machine-gun pace.

They were all in a bidding war against each other. The room was filled with the buzz of the crowd so loud I could feel it in my chest. My heart pounded to the beat of cackling laughter, the thrilled tone of the emcee, the thrum of the audience. I was wanted. I was needed. I was desired! The thought made me feel light and powerful and dizzy.

I scanned the room and found her in the middle row, tucked off to one side. To anyone else, Mistress would have looked simply bemused. But I had known her long enough now to recognize barely contained pride. I dipped my head and gave her a knowing wink, which she returned with the barest tilt of her chin.

"It's Decker!" cried the voice next to me.

I finally turned and looked to find a small, slim woman in a suit and bowtie coming towards me. In my heels, I towered over her. She put an arm around my waist, gesturing to the side of the stage with his other. I bent low at my waist and gave her a saucy kiss on her cheek — met with more hooting from the crowd — before allowing her to lead me off.

I was ushered through a door at the side of the room. It closed behind with a quiet thud, instantly muffling the roar of the crowd on the other side. My heart was thundering in my chest and I realized I was sweating.

"That was incredible!" I panted, but the woman who had escorted me was gone.

I looked around the empty, quiet hallway as cheers went up in the auction room. Someone new must have come out, probably that slip of a girl who had looked as if she was about to pass out.

Now what?

I waited for what felt like hours until the sound of heels on stone grew louder and louder. I squinted towards the end of the hall as a figure rounded the corner, her dress trailing behind her. Long, strong legs disappeared beneath golden silk and thick black hair poured over her shoulders.

She stepped forwards and the light caught her brilliant green eyes. My heart stopped and a chill ran down my back as I recognized her. The woman I had seen whenever I was out — always alone, always watching me. Stalking me.

Hunting me.

"I have waited long time, Little Flower," she said in a thick accent I couldn't place. "I paid very good money for you. So now I will get my money's worth."