The Adventure Of The Tightlipped Orchid free porn video

The Adventure of the Tightlipped Orchid Communicated by Akkano Written by: Jane Holmes (Nee Jane Watson) Disclaimer This story is a work of fiction and all the characters in this story are purely fictional (except the late great Isaac Asimov, whose name is used in a fictional setting). Synopsis Madame Mystica holds a get together at the Castle on Duncan Island in the pacific. The strange happenings on the island are related in this story by Jane Holmes (nee Jane Watson), the sidekick of Cheryl Holmes, the world famous detective. Here is another one of the baffling cases that I was involved in, along with my spouse, Cheryl Holmes. I did write about one case before (The Adventure of the Solitary Stockbroker, posted at www.fictionmania.tv). For those not familiar with me, I am Jane Holmes, married to my spouse Cheryl Holmes for some two years now. Since we live in Toronto, Canada, our marriage is perfectly legal. At the time of our marriage, I changed my name from Jane Watson to Jane Holmes. Cheryl is a world famous detective and I have been her secretary and friend for more than twenty years (and of course, her spouse for the past two years). We have solved cases all over the world. We were not really involved in the case I am about to relate. If we had been involved, no doubt Cheryl would have brought the miscreants to justice (although what the justice would be in this case, I don't know). Prolog: We had just finished a case in England, involving the famous Liberty diamond. As a result of Cheryl's brilliant deductive work, a Lord and his underling were now looking at a prison sentence of 20 years or more. We had a standing invitation from our friend, Baroness Linda Fortescue to visit her at her vacation retreat in Grampian mountains of Scotland. Linda has been a good friend of ours for a long time. She got the Baroness title (strange as it may seem, a Baroness is not necessarily the wife of a Baron) for some brilliant research she did in medicine. She is extremely wealthy, having inherited her wealth from her uncle. We were sitting in the living room of her mansion after an excellent dinner, savoring a cream liqueur and talking. It was only September, but the air was already chilly in the mountains. The mansion had central heating, of course. But it felt good to sit by the roaring fire. Linda was recounting some of her past escapades. Linda has a kinky side to her and she is into the S and M lifestyle. To me it is faintly repugnant. But I realize that my lifestyle may be repugnant to some people, so I don't judge. Live and let live is my motto. Linda has a slave, called Melanie and she was serving us as a maid. She had left the room after serving us the drinks. "So as I understand it, Melanie is your slave voluntarily? How long has she been your slave?" "It's not 'she', but 'he'. Technically he is still a man and I prefer it that way. As to her being my slave voluntarily, the answer is yes and no. We are good friends, so what I am about to tell you won't go beyond these walls, I can rely on complete discretion of the two of you, right?" "Of course, Linda. You know us well enough," Cheryl replied. I was astounded. "Surely Melanie is not a man. She is gorgeous, more beautiful and more feminine than many women I know. Why, she is more feminine than me." Linda chuckled. "Melanie is a man only to the extent that she has a penis. Otherwise she is a dumb blonde in every respect." "Her previous name was George. He used to be an accounts executive for a multinational company. We met at a charity function. After a few weeks when I got to know him well, I realized that he had submissive tendencies, but he did not know it yet. On one of our dates, I took him to a hypnotist friend of mine who reinforced his submissive tendencies. She also planted a post hypnotic suggestion to visit her more often. I took him for several hypnotic sessions. "Hypnosis cannot make a person do anything against his wishes, but it can reinforce the behavior that is already present. After a few months of hypnotic treatment he became submissive to me and I felt he was ready to be my slave. But I couldn't have an accounts executive as a slave, he had a brilliant mind, he was an independent thinker, used to taking initiative and altogether would have been too much trouble as a slave. So then..., but let me tell you the story in detail." ________________ Part. 1. The Conversion of George into Melanie 1. "So Barbara dear, tell me more about this mental surgery. You say it can be used to make George into my permanent slave?" "Certainly, Linda. I used it for my slave and the results are all I could hope for, beyond my expectations really. Have you heard of psychohistory?" "The word sounds familiar. Is it a medical term?" "Well, yes, but you probably came across it if you read Isaac Asimov's 'The Foundation Trilogy'." "Oh, yes. Now I remember. I read that years ago. Very entertaining novels, but what has that got to do with turning George into my slave?" "Well, it is not exactly all fiction. There is some truth to psychohistory." "You mean there are real psychohistorians who rule the world unseen?" "Well, nothing so dramatic. But a group of psychologists did develop the science of psychohistory a few decades ago. Do you think anybody really has such a fertile imagination that they could just dream up the concept of psychohistory and use it in fiction? Even Asimov was not that good, brilliant science fiction writer as he was." "So how come nobody has heard of it before? They don't teach courses in psychohistory at universities, do they?" "When psychologists worked out the laws and details of psychohistory, they started thinking about its implications and their leader, Hari Seldon got scared, very scared. Can you imagine the potential for misuse, if a person can control the behavior of another person just by thinking at him? It will be easy for a world dictator to control the entire population of the world. The whole world would be his slave, would know it and what's more will be happy about it, so there won't be any question of a rebellion. That would easily mark the end of human race, the entire population of the world would be turned into zombies, mindless robots who would do the bidding of an unscrupulous dictator." "The potential for harm was enormous, so the psychologists decided not to reveal the science of psychohistory to the world. They sealed the knowledge off forever. How Asimov got hold of it I don't know. However, he also must have realized the potential for harm. So he turned it into a work of fiction. "This is all very interesting, but if the science of psychohistory does not exist, how does it help us?" "Well, there is one practitioner of psychohistory in the world. She is the keeper of the knowledge. Very few people know of her existence. After she got her Ph.D. in Psychology, she read the papers put forward by the Seldon Convention. It interested her very much so she learned all she could about psychohistory. She practices psychohistory very rarely, only as a favor for someone she knows very well." "Her name is Dr. Bayta Darell. I know her very well and have talked to her about you. She is willing to talk to you and then decide whether she will help you." "Bayta Darell, that name also sounds familiar." "It should, if you have read The Foundation Trilogy. She is a character in one of the stories. When Asimov wrote the stories, she was a toddler. Now she is an elderly woman." "I suppose it won't hurt to talk to her. Exactly how will she turn George into my slave?" "I will let her explain it to you." 2. Next day Barbara drove Linda to Dr. Darell's house. Linda expected that Dr. Darell would be living in the country in an isolated place, and would be something of a recluse. She was surprised when after several hours of driving, they came to a mid sized city and pulled up to a terrace house (or a town house in North America). "Dr. Darell lives right in the middle of everybody, isn't she afraid that she may be discovered? I would think she wouldn't want to advertise her whereabouts." "She is a psychohistorian, remember? If somebody discovers her true identity, she can always mentally change that person and make him or her totally loyal to Dr. Darell, so that he or she won't reveal Dr. Darell's whereabouts even under torture. Or she could just wipe that bit of memory clean so that the person doesn't know who she really is." "Come in, Barbara, Come in." Dr. Bayta Darell greeted Barbara effusively. "And you must be Linda." Linda was staring at Bayta open mouthed. "Yes, I must. I mean, I am Linda," she replied accepting Bayta's hand. "Excellent. Just call me Bayta. Let us repair to the living room where we can talk. Can I offer you anything, a soda perhaps?" Soon they settled down in the living room. Linda said, "I am sorry, Dr. Darell, I mean Bayta. You are not what I expected you to be." "Oh, and what did you expect me to be?" "I don't know, but I didn't expect a sweet, charming old lady who looks like somebody's grandmother. Looking at you, it is difficult to imagine that if you so wished, you could easily conquer the world and rule it." "As a matter of fact, I am somebody's grandmother. And, yes. I could conquer and rule the world, like The Mule did in one of Isaac's Foundation stories. But I don't have the slightest inclination for doing so. That is a prerequisite for being the keeper of the knowledge, I was chosen carefully by my predecessor. I am quite happy where I am. Now let us get on with it, I have to attend a senior citizen's bingo in an hour. But first I am going to decide if I will help you." "If it is a question of money..." Linda started. "It is not a question of money, though my fees are exorbitant. I don't really need the money. I have more than enough to satisfy my modest wants and needs. I want to make sure you are the right kind of individual." "All right, ask me anything you need to know." "It doesn't work that way, I don't need to ask you anything. You forget I am a psychohistorian. I will probe your mind and find out all I need to know." When she saw the look of consternation on Linda's face, she continued with a slight smile, "Don't worry, I cannot read thoughts, I am not a telepath. I can read only emotions. But I must be satisfied with your emotional make up." She brought her chair close to Linda's. "OK, so what do I have to do?" "Nothing, just sit in the chair. You may close your eyes if you wish. The process will take about five minutes. It may possibly tingle a bit, but it won't be painful." She focussed her sharp eyes on Linda's face. After a while Linda found it difficult to keep staring at Bayta's penetrating gaze and she closed her eyes. "It's OK, you may open your eyes now. It is over." Linda opened her eyes and an involuntary shudder passed through her. "Are you OK? How do you feel?" "I am fine, Bayta, I just feel drained, weak." "Well, don't worry about it, that is normal. Here, have this milk shake I have prepared for you. Or would you prefer a brandy?" Linda greedily took a gulp of the milk shake, it felt good. "I think I may be able to help you. Let us talk. Exactly what do you want to do with this George?" "I want him to be my slave, obey my every command without question." "I understand he is a brilliant accountant, do you want to keep his intelligence, his accounting skills?" "Can he do that and still be my slave?" Linda was intrigued. "Yes, it can be done, but it won't be easy for him." "In what way?" "Whatever you say will be gospel truth to him. If you say something to him that happens to be untrue (to take an extreme example, let us say you say to him that bankruptcy is good, it is desirable, it is better than making a profit), he will take that as the truth. However, since his intellect is still sharp, he will try to mold his accounting knowledge around that one untruth. He won't be able to do it and that will make him miserable. Of course he won't question what you said and that is where the problem comes." "And if you suppress his intellect, make him into a bimbo?" "In that case, he will still accept what you say as the gospel truth, but he won't try to think for himself and extrapolate from that untruth, his mind won't be sharp enough to do that Plus he would have forgotten most of his accounting knowledge anyway." "May I interrupt, Bayta? Linda, there is another alternative. Bayta can suppress his intellect in such a way that the process is reversible. Isn't that so, Bayta?" "That is correct. I can turn him into a bimbo with limited IQ and give you a password. When you use the password, he will regain his former intellect, and all his accounting knowledge. Then when you use another password, he will become a bimbo again. But all along, he will be totally loyal to you and obey you. There may be some advantage in having a brilliant, analytical mind that is nevertheless slavishly loyal to you." "You are lucky, Linda. My slave was an out of work actor when I found him. Bayta has kept his talent, such as it is, intact. Bayta will charge extra for that but I think for you, it may be worth it. I am not wealthy like you, I have to work for my living. But I still paid for the reversible treatment." "That sounds like a good idea. I have seen your slave, he is always dressed up as a woman. So is your slave also a transvestite?" "He is transgender. And he wasn't when I met him. But Bayta converted him into a TG." "Can you do that, Bayta?" Linda was surprised. Bayta laughed. "When I enter the brain, I can do pretty much anything I want. I can turn him into trangender, transvestite, cross dresser, homosexual, whatever you want. To me it is just the question of pressing appropriate switches in the brain. Psychohistory is a very powerful tool, that is why the potential for misuse is very high." "OK, let us give him transgender tendencies. I don't know if I will turn him into a complete woman, but I will transition him at least part of the way." "You can transition him without giving him TG tendencies. He will obey you unquestioningly, remember? But if you order him to do what he wants to do, he will be happier. So I will make him TG. What IQ would you prefer?" "Let us make it a little below average, say between 95 and 100. That will be a big change for him. Currently he must be above 130." "So let us recap. Make him totally loyal to you, so that he will obey your every command and be happy while doing it, give him TG tendencies and reduce his IQ to 95. Anything else?" "Give him a short attention span, I want to turn him into a ditzy blonde airhead. Can you make him an expert in make up and dressing as a woman?" "Sorry, I can't impart any skills or knowledge to him, you will have to do that. The short attention span is no problem. Now about my fee, half is payable right now. I take credit cards." When the transaction was concluded, Bayta said, "Bring this George here a week from now. Before you leave, I must do one thing. I must change your mental state by psychological conditioning so that you become completely loyal to me." Linda was astounded. "Hey now, wait a minute. That was never agreed upon." "My dear, I don't need your agreement. I can easily condition you so that you will give your life in order to remain loyal to me. But relax. Your loyalty will extend to me only to the extent that you won't reveal to anybody who I am or where I live. Other than that, you won't owe me anything." "Then it's all right, I suppose." The conditioning took but an instant. "There, now no amount of torture or any inducement will make you reveal my name or where I live. Now, if you ladies will excuse me, it is time for my bingo." 3. In a week's time, Linda had George hypnotized and brought him over to Dr. Darell's house. George was still in a trance. Barbara and Linda helped him walk into the house. Bayta indicated the room next to the living room. "Bring him in here, ladies. I usually use this room for surgery. First, let me check his vital signs and make sure he is in a fit condition for mental surgery. It can be quite draining, as you found out last time. I also have to get his electroencephalograph." "Everything looks OK. Before I begin, I need the rest of the payment." As they were completing the transaction, Linda asked "How long will it take?" "Well, there is a lot of work to be done. I would say about an hour. You may wait in the living room. There are magazines, or feel free to watch some TV. If you are hungry, help yourself to whatever you find in my kitchen." An hour later, Bayta emerged from the room. Her brow was covered with sweat. "George is sleeping. When he wakes up, you may take him home. Now I am going to lie down for a while. Excuse me." "But was it success? Is he now my slave?" "Of course, dear. He wants to be your slave. Any time he disobeys you, it will make him physically ill. He will want to please you, to obey you. Barbara will tell you the rest. Now I really must lie down. I am not as young as I used to be. You ladies can see yourself out, the door locks behind you," she yawned as she went upstairs to her bedroom. Linda went into the room and sat beside George's pillow. In about half an hour, George opened his eyes. "Hello, Linda. What I am doing here?" "Oh, nothing. How do you feel, George?" She asked looking at him intently for any signs of change. "Oh, I feel fine, just a bit tired. Why? Where am I, by the way?" "Let us go into the other room. There I will explain everything." They came out and joined Barbara. "Barbara, I don't see any difference." "What did you expect, was he going to spout horns or boobs or something? But I am sure he is now totally loyal to you. Go on, ask him to do anything." "But first please, tell me where I am and what I am doing here?" George put in. "Well", Linda began uncomfortably. "It's a long story. You see...." "Linda, you don't owe him any explanations, remember?" "Oh, yeah. Well, George dear you don't need to know where you are and what are you doing here. I say everything is OK. Is that clear?" "Why, sure Linda." "Good. Now George, crawl to me on arms and legs and kiss my feet." George promptly approached her on his hands and knees and planted wet, slobbering kisses on both her feet. "Don't slobber so much. Yech. Lick up your slobber now." "Oh, I am sorry, Linda. I didn't mean to displease you. Please forgive me." George licked her feet clean. "Now, George, I am going to turn you into a blond bimbo, your IQ has already dropped several decades. We need to properly feminize you. Your new name will be Melanie. Is that clear?" "Why, certainly, Linda," George said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. During the drive back, Barbara said, "Linda, when Bayta operated on Melanie here, she has arranged so that Melanie will lose the memory of this incident completely in a few days, like she did to my slave. In the case of a slave, it is better than making the slave loyal to Bayta, we don't want the slave to have divided loyalties. Anyway, in a few days she will have forgotten about the whole incident." _________________ Prolog continued: "And there you have it, ladies. After that, feminizing him was a snap. He was only too anxious to cooperate, to obey and please me. I put her on hormone treatment and sent her for a crash course on how to behave like a lady, how to be a proper maid. I haven't got breast implants for her yet, but it is planned. She is up to size B now, but I want at least a size DD for her and I am told that can't be achieved by hormone treatment alone. But she still has a penis and I am going to keep it that way." "How does she feel about feminization? Is she happy about it?" I asked. "She is very happy about it. She does not have a will of her own. Whatever makes me happy, makes her happy. Melanie?" Linda rang the bell besides her. Melanie was dressed as a French maid for the evening. She came in and curtsied. "Yes, ma'am?" "Get us some coffee, please." "At once, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am," she again curtsied and left. "I still can't believe that she is happy. She used to be a high powered accounts executive, didn't she?" I asked. "For your information, she is in her twenties, (ten years younger than me, by the way) and was already drawing a six figure salary, she was destined for big things. But Dr. Darell's mental surgery was very effective. Now she has forgotten most of her accounting education, she cannot think for herself (since her attention span is so short), I have to do her thinking for her. I really do believe if I asked her to make a decision on her own she will be miserable. She will do it, of course, because obeying me makes her happy, but she won't like it. Not that she will say anything to me." "Have you ever brought back the old accounts executive?" I asked. "She has been my slave for about two years now. I did bring her back just once, to see how it worked out. I asked her to look over the tax return that my regular accountant had prepared for me." "I must say I was somewhat apprehensive. I hired a bodyguard for the evening, just in case. But whether an accounts executive or a blond bimbo, all her emotions are smothered in a thick, heavy blanket of loyalty, adoration towards me. That is more effective in binding her to me, keeping her subservient than any chains, whips or dungeons would be." "All the same, I was surprised. When I brought back the accounts executive, she still remembered her life as a blonde bimbo. She knew that I did it to her. But it made no difference, she behaved as if it was the most natural thing in the world, her feelings towards me did not change one bit when she was accounts executive again. When I used the other password, she was a blonde bimbo again. She remembered her being an accountant." "And yes, she did find a fault with my tax returns and managed to save me some money. Her intellect only lies dormant, it is never destroyed." "In a way, it is a good thing. If I ever get bored with her some day, I can bring back the accounts executive, give her some money and send her on her way, she will do all right as an accountant." "So other than that one time she has been a blonde airhead for the past two years?" "Well, yes. She serves as my maid, serves me in bed, runs errands for me, works as my secretary, checks my email etc. Basically she does whatever I tell her to do. She cannot do anything that requires the use of brain, of course, but she can carry out my orders quite well. You know I do medical research, just as a hobby, I don't need the money. But I managed to get her a job as my assistant, she is always by my side. It is working out very well." "And would you really whip her if she disobeys you?" I asked incredulously. "Disobeying me is not an option for her, it will make her physically ill, so I have never whipped her for disobedience. However, I spank her and whip her from time to time, because I enjoy the BDSM lifestyle. And so of course, does she." "Now that I think about it, I did remove her conditioning once more. There was the strange incidence with an Orchid. Actually Cheryl, you are a detective, this may be just up your alley. We visited a Madam Mystica on her island getaway last year. When we came back, I removed Melanie's conditioning and asked her to record the strange happenings on the island. I am sure you will find it fascinating," she said as she started printing stuff from her computer. "The incidence, in addition to being very unusual, is also a bit of a mystery. Let us see if you can solve it. Here you go," she handed the printout to Cheryl. "Go ahead and read it and tell me if you can find the solution. It will take you a couple of hours to do it. I can keep myself amused for two hours. Melanie?" she called out. "Yes. Ma'am?" Melanie curtsied. "Get our guests more coffee. And it is time to nurse on my pussy, honey. I need some pussy worship and ass worship. Let us go to my bedroom suite." Off they went, after Melanie served us more coffee. I looked at Cheryl hungrily. "Dear, what do you say we forget the manuscript and we also indulge in some pussy worship and ass worship?" However, Cheryl was deep into the narrative already. She looked up absent-mindedly and peered at me over her reading glasses. "Eh, what? No, I don't want any coffee, thanks, darling," she said, taking a sip of her coffee. She went back to reading. With a sigh of exasperation, I sat down on the sofa next to her, cuddled up to her and started reading the manuscript over her shoulder. Part 2. The Tightlipped Orchid 1. My mistress has ordered me to write down the narrative of the strange happenings on Duncan Island, as it is known by the natives who live nearby. I was filled with anticipation and apprehension when my Mistress told me that we will be visiting the Castle of Madam Mystica. She is a fabulously wealthy Domme who has these get togethers every year. Apparently it is considered quite an honor to be invited to one of them. Mistress Linda told me that she had known Madam Mystica for a while and they had cultivated a friendship over the years. However, this was the first time that the Mistress was invited. When she told me this, I bristled at the injustice of it. "She should have invited you before this, Mistress." I pouted (I wouldn't even dream of pouting in my current state of mind, but when I am a dumb blonde, it comes naturally). "Well, honey, Madam Mystica follows her own set of rules. Evidently until now she did not consider me worthy enough to be invited. Anyway, don't let her hear you talk like this when we get to Duncan Island. Over there a slave may not speak unless spoken to. I give you too much freedom." "Thank you, Mistress and I appreciate it. I will certainly remember my manners when we visit there." Duncan Island is a tiny island in the pacific. It only has the castle on it. The castle and the island belong to Madam Mystica. We flew from San Francisco to Tokyo. Clearing the Customs in a foreign country is a trying experience for me. My passport still has my picture as a man, so I have to dress as a man for the flight, something which I totally dislike. However, Mistress tells me it is necessary, so of course, I had to do it. From Tokyo we took bullet train to a remote village in Japan and a commuter plane, (specially arranged by Madam Mystica for the occasion) to the tiny island nation of Phoenecia. Duncan Island nominally falls under the jurisdiction of Phoenecia. However, it is 200 miles from Phoenecia and Madam Mystica had arranged a special boat to take us to Duncan Island. When we landed in Phoenecia and cleared the customs, a native approached us and addressed the Mistress. "Excuse me, ma'am" he said in perfect English "I am supposed to pick up Mistress Linda and a slave. Are you Mistress Linda?" "Yes, and this is my slave. Let's go." As we approached the motor boat, another man approached us. "Excuse me, ma'am, I have a delivery for Linda Fortescue. Sign here please." As Mistress signed for the delivery, she said "That's good. My order has been delivered." When we were on the way, she explained to me. "Melanie, usually Mystica charges an admission fee for these get togethers. However, she was kind enough to waive the fee in my case. So I decided to buy a decoration for the occasion. I ordered five Orchids, which will be the centre piece. They did not come cheap, but they are very beautiful orchids, you will see when we get there." Then she noticed my obvious discomfort said to me, "I am sorry, dear (my Mistress says 'sorry' to me, how noble is that?), I am sure you want to put on some proper clothes. Here is the bag of clothes and cosmetics I asked you to pack just for this occasion. Go to the washroom and get dressed properly as a lady should." We were on a tropical island and Mistress was dressed for comfort, in sweatshirt and shorts. However, I always like to be in a dress, I do not care much for mannish clothes. I took my time in getting dressed and putting on the make up. When I finally emerged from the washroom, Mistress gave a wolf whistle. "You look good enough to eat, my dear. Come here." She stood on the kissing stool, took me in her arms, lifted my chin with her hand and pressed her lips against mine. We have a kissing stool. Unfortunately, even though Mistress is a tall woman, she is a little shorter than me. Mistress tells me that she will correct this defect in me by surgery and I hope she does it soon. Until then, we have to make do with the kissing stool. When she stands on the kissing stool, she towers over me, even in my high heels. I gave a sigh of contentment and relaxed in her arms. I stood on tip toes, put my arms around her neck and parted my lips. Her thick tongue snaked into my mouth and she started to explore my mouth with her tongue. Her tongue started to roam in my mouth. I could feel her tongue come into contact with my teeth, my tongue and inside of my cheeks. I started sucking on her tongue. She began transferring her saliva into my mouth. This is the part I liked best, what better way for a Mistress to let her slave know that she is pleased with her slave, than to share herself with her slave? The kiss was delicious and lasted a long time. When Mistress finally broke the kiss, I noticed that the first mate was staring at us. I blushed, swallowed and quickly ran into the washroom to fix my lipstick again. When I came out, Mistress was wiping her lips with a tissue to get rid of the lipstick. The first mate was still staring at me with a smile on his lips. I became scared and melted into Mistress's arms. "Please, Mistress, I am scared. Look at that man staring at us." Mistress lifted my face by putting her hand under my chin and kissed me lightly on the lips. With her lips still fixed to mine, she whispered into my mouth, "Don't be scared, bunnikins. The natives here are used to the unusual goings on the island. They don't mind, the island is a source of jobs and revenue to them. I could spank or whip you right in front of them and they will be OK with that." This put my mind at ease. "Oh, dear. I have messed up your lipstick again. I really should get lipstick permanently tattooed on your lips. That will save a lot of trouble." I blushed again, as the first mate was still staring at me. "Mistress, what if he makes a pass at me?" I asked her. "Don't worry, since he has seen us together, he knows you belong to me. But if he makes a pass at you, let me know and I will deal with him." However, the rest of the trip was uneventful and eventually we reached Duncan island. We were greeted by Madam Mystica herself. She was a tall, formidable figure, taller and stouter than the Mistress. She embraced Mistress effusively. "Linda, it is good to see you again. Welcome to Duncan Island. Dinner is in one hour and we dress for dinner. How your slave dresses is, of course, up to you, a slave may even be naked if you so wish. Why don't you go upstairs and freshen up? Your bags will be up shortly." "The orchids I ordered also came with us. Please have the servants set them up, the instructions come with the orchids. Tell them to arrange orchids in a regular pentagon, they will look nice that way. I will see you in a while." "Wait. Before you go, take this. Attach it to your slave somewhere." She handed Mistress a large circular tag, with letter 'S' on it. Under letter 'S' was written 'Mistress Linda' in small letters. "And this one is for you," she gave the Mistress her name tag. "And also this," she gave Mistress a paddle. "'S', of course stands for 'slave'. But why the paddle? I have got many canes, paddles and whips for correction," my Mistress remarked. "Slave or sub. Not all of them are total slaves, some are subs who live on their own, hold down jobs, but who indulge in BDSM lifestyle when they can manage it. As to the paddle, it is a regulation paddle, given to all the Doms. A Dom is permitted to punish any slave for insubordination or any other offense. But the punishment may be a maximum of six strokes, either by hand or by this paddle. Then the Dom must give a report to the appropriate Master or Mistress within twenty four hours. That is to cut down on abuse by Doms of slaves not belonging to them. So keep the paddle with you always, while you are staying here." "Thanks. Come on, Melanie, let us go." Upstairs I helped Mistress take a bath and dress for dinner. She looked gorgeous, a vision of loveliness in her strapless dinner gown and I again counted my blessings (not for the first or the last time) that she was my mistress and I was her slave. She decided that my dress looked good enough and I did not need to change. "After all, we don't want the slave to look more beautiful than the Mistress, do we?" She teased me. "Really Mistress. Please don't talk like that even in fun. There is no way I am going to look better than you, no way, no matter how I dress. You are easily the most beautiful woman in the world." I was close to tears. "Well perhaps you are right, my dear. It is nice of you to say so, anyway. Let us go." Dinner was in a big hall in the basement. When we reached it, I saw that Madam Mystica's servants had set up the orchids in a glass case, with open top. There were five orchids and they were arranged in a regular pentagon. Each had a beautiful flower, pink, yellow and blue in color. People were gathered around it. Some of them were peering in from the top. Mistress took charge of the situation. "Please, could I have everybody's attention please?" She said. "I bought these orchids as a center piece for our little gathering. These orchids are a variant of orchid class Physalis alkekengi L. There is a unique feature to these orchids. If you will kindly make room for me, I will show you." The crowd parted to let her pass. She went to the tank and pointed to a jar besides the tank, which contained small pellets. "This is food for orchids. Now watch." She took a few pellets from the jar and held her hand on the top of the tank. There were several gasps as long, pink tongue like tendrils telescoped out of the orchids. The five tongues met in the middle around Mistress' palm. Each tendril retrieved a pellet and disappeared into the orchid again. "Could we feed the orchids?" somebody asked. "Go right ahead. If they are not hungry, they won't respond. In any case, the tendrils won't hurt your hand, they are not strong enough. They do snatch the food with quite a bit of force though." We went on to the dining hall. There were two couples to a table. We shared our table with a Mistress Dawn. She was a short, full figured woman in her forties and her slave was a tall, willowy, gorgeous blonde in her twenties. She was wearing a skimpy dress and her backside was totally exposed, showing red, angry welts. She looked like she had been crying, but her make up was not at all smudged. I wondered about that. There were two chairs at the normal level and two chairs were sunk into the floor. Those were obviously meant for the slaves. Even though both the slaves were taller than the mistresses, they both had to look up to the mistresses. While other tables had four chairs each, our table had an extra chair and a woman was sitting in it. Her tag only said 'S'. Without the name of Master or Mistress on it. The two Mistresses ignored her completely and so of course, did the slaves. "Well, looks like somebody has been a naughty slave," my Mistress remarked as we sat down. The slave winced as she sat down, but did not say anything. "Really, she is nothing but trouble," Mistress Dawn grumbled, buttering her roll. "You would think a slave would know the difference between rose scented bath gel and lilac scented bath gel, but no, she is too dumb to tell them apart. Here, smell this," she extended her short, thick forearm to my Mistress, who sniffed at it. "Rose." Mistress gave her verdict. "Right. I tanned her hide properly for her mistake. Does your slave fuck up like that? She looks like a cute, submissive filly." Mistress Dawn pinched my cheek hard with her thumb and forefinger and I blushed and wiped the butter off my face with the napkin. "It's not a 'she' but a 'he'. He is transgender and her name is Melanie. And no, I rarely have to punish her, she is always eager, desperate to please me." "Maybe I should get me a she male, she males are more submissive. Girls are too much trouble. By the way, her name is Debbie." Debbie spoke up. "Please, mom. I am sorry. It won't happen again, I will be a good girl," she looked up imploringly at her Mistress. "Well, you better shape up, girl, or we are through." "Yes, I will, mom. I am sorry." "She is not really your daughter, is she?" Mistress inquired. "Oh, no, although I am old enough to be her mother. I just like her to call me mom. But she needs to be spanked just like a little girl by her mommy." At this point, the other woman who had hitherto been silent spoke up. "Lucky you," she said to Debbie. We all really looked at her for the first time. She was very beautiful, about the same age as my Mistress. She was not as beautiful as my Mistress, of course, but I know I am biased in that respect. She was wearing a very elegant shimmering green dress. But what caught the eye was the necklace she was wearing. It was a diamond and ruby necklace and it had a huge diamond in the center. The diamond sat neatly nestled in her ample cleavage. She looked a vision of loveliness, she looked almost regal. Unfortunately, the 'S' tag she was wearing trumped all. I was reminded of the 'A' tag that the adulteress had to wear in Nathaniel Hawthorne's 'The Scarlet Letter." "Really, such impertinence. Go get your Master, you pathetic slave," Mistress Dawn ordered. "You see, ma'am, it is like this..." "Such an insolent slave. She needs a major attitude adjustment. Can't understand a simple order." Dawn produced her regulation paddle. "Drop your panties and get on my lap," she said to the woman, tapping the paddle on her small, chubby palm. "Well, you see.." "DROP'EM, this instant. I have had just enough bullshit out of you." Dawn screamed at her. She grabbed her by her arm and flipped her over expertly so that she fell into her lap on her stomach. Mistress Dawn raised her dress, pulled her panties down and in quick succession gave her six sharp, savage strokes with her paddle. It was clear that Mistress Dawn could spank very hard, much harder than my Mistress spanks me. Six angry welts appeared on her buttocks. Mistress Dawn threw the woman down on the floor. "Now go get your master," she snapped at her. "But I am not a slave or a sub. I have been trying to tell you that for a while," she whined between sobs and sniffles as she took her seat again, wincing as she did so. Mistress Dawn's demeanor underwent instant change. She put her hand on the woman's arm and said, "Oh, I am sorry, my dear. I didn't mean to hurt you. Please forgive me. But why are you wearing the sub tag? That threw me off." "It's quite all right, Mistress Dawn, there is no need to apologize. I quite enjoyed it," she said, wiping her eyes. "My name is Heather. I am a sub and I would like to hook up with a Domme. Madam Mystica was kind enough to invite me for this gathering so that I may be able to find a Domme here. That is why I am wearing the sub tag, but without the name of a Master or a Mistress, because I don't have one." "Well, I am sorry I spanked you dear, but if you insist on wearing a sub tag, you must be prepared to be treated like a slave." "That's quite all right, Mistress Dawn, please don't give it another thought." At this point, a man, evidently a Master stopped at our table. He was of medium height and not very big, but the aura of confidence, dominance around him was strong. He was dressed in a tuxedo. He looked like he was born to lead and dominate. He was leading his slave, a beautiful redhead, on a leash. "Hello, girlie, I saw your performance from a distance. Quite a squealer, aren't you?" he said to Heather. "What do you want?" Heather asked coldly. "I understand you are looking for a Master, you want to be a slave. Well, your search is over, sweetcheeks, you are looking at the perfect Master. I will be happy to have you as my slave. I already have a slave, I have brought her with me here, but I could use another one. Why don't you move into my room after dinner and we will take it up from there. Oh, I am Master Raymond." He introduced himself to the table at large. "Sir, you are laboring under misapprehensions. First, I want to be a sub and not a slave, I don't want to make a full time commitment." "That's OK by me, honey. You can be my sub. I am sure after you have been my sub for a while, you will positively beg me to take you on as my slave. Just ask my slave here." He gave a tug on the leash and his slave yelped. "Second," she went on, ignoring him "I am looking for a Mistress and not a Master. I couldn't be a slave or a sub to you, under any circumstances." "You are saying that because you haven't experienced the bliss of being my sub. I am not a tall or a big man, but why don't you sample my foot long before you decide? How about after dinner? You can have dessert in my room." "Sir, will you please leave?" "OK, OK. I didn't come here to fight. But let me know if you change your mind. I am looking for only one more slave and I won't be in the market for long." Master Raymond departed from our table. "What an odious man," Heather sniffed. "If you are in the market for a Dom, why did you turn him down? You could have given him a try, you know. There are many more subs than Doms and usually it is difficult to find a Master or a Mistress," my Mistress said. "Well, I don't think I could be subservient to a man. Instead of having a Master, I would rather live alone." She looked speculatively at Mistress Dawn. "You on the other hand, pack a mean wallop. How about...."? Debbie suddenly became agitated. "Please, mom. I will be a good girl, I promise. Please don't...." However, Mistress Dawn did not let her finish. She squeezed Debbie's cheeks with her short, stubby fingers hard so that her lips formed an O, effectively ending her speech. "Did I ask you, bitch? Always yapping, flapping that sewer of a mouth non stop. And how dare you interrupt a non sub? You are in big trouble, young lady. Now shut your trap before you get into more trouble." Still holding her mouth open, she bent over and spat in Debbie's mouth generously, her thick, foamy, slimy saliva slowly descending into Debbies mouth and landing on her tongue. When she let go of her face, Debbie swallowed, rubbed her cheeks and let out a sob. However, Mistress Dawn was unmoved. "There she goes, bawling and snivelling again. A good thing I had permanent make up tattooed on her face, otherwise she will be fixing her makeup every other minute." "Now Heather, I am flattered. However, I love Debbie dearly." She kissed Debbie softly on her forehead. Debbie simpered and sidled up to her, burying her face in Mistress Dawn's ample bosom. Mistress Dawn put her arm protectively around Debbie. "I have no intention of breaking off with her, in spite of the pain in the ass that she can be sometimes. And she is all the slave I can handle, I can't handle two slaves. So thanks, but no thanks." "Thank you, mommy," Debbie said indistinctly between sniffles, her face still buried in Mistress Dawn's bosom. Mistress Dawn lifted Debbie's chin with her fingers. "And I will deal with you later in our room, young lady. I swear sometimes she aggravates me just so I would punish her, she is a glutton for punishment. Well, we will see. Perhaps it is time we revisited the nipple clamps," Mistress Dawn said, looking down at her. When she mentioned nipple clamps, Debbie positively blanched, but managed to keep her mouth shut. Heather looked at my Mistress. "How about you, Mistress Linda, are you in market for a sub?" I was overcome with jealousy. I looked at the Mistress apprehensively, would she take on another slave? I fervently hoped not, but I did not make the same mistake as Debbie and kept my mouth shut. I did, however, look at my Mistress imploringly. "Dear, if you keep on pestering the Dommes about being their sub, you will alienate both the Dommes and their subs. My advice to you is, talk to the Dommes, find out who are in the market for a slave or a sub and then sound them out. Go about it gently, indirectly, rather than using a sledge hammer. And to answer your question, no, I don't want another slave. It was good of you to ask, though." Finally the long day came to an end, we were both tired. Madam Mystica announced the start of an orgy in the bondage room, but I was relieved when the Mistress decided to forego it and retire to our room. When we got ready for the bed, Mistress asked me to sleep with my face in her pussy. I started licking her to orgasm. I decided to make it a quick one (since she did not say anything otherwise). As soon as she climaxed, she fell asleep. I slowly licked her frothy discharge from her pussy and from my lips. I licked her pussy hair dry. At that time, I noticed a metallic smell to her pussy. Being half asleep, I still vaguely realized what that meant. Then I also fell asleep. 2. Because of the hard day and the jet lag, both of us slept until very late. Mistress was the first to wake up and she woke me with a swift kick in my back. I woke up and started licking her pussy. I very well knew our usual morning ritual. However, as I had smelled her the previous night, My Mistress had started menstruating. I could smell the strong smell of blood and her menstrual fluids. As I started licking her, I tasted blood. Licking a menstruating woman to climax is in general not a pleasant experience and a man can do it under only two circumstances. One is when he is beaten into submission and trained to do so. Other is when he adores, worships the woman and is intimidated by her. I, of course, worshiped my Mistress. Even so, when she ordered me to lick her while menstruating, initially I used to get sick. I remember the very first time after bringing her to climax, I went to washroom and threw up. When my Mistress noticed it, she gave me a proper whipping for it. At that time, I had just become her slave (how I became her slave is not quite clear to me, one day all of a sudden I was her slave, Mistress says I was 'converted', I don't know what that means) and I was still learning. Subsequently in that menstruation cycle, sheer will power got me through. I used to become nauseous, but luckily I did not throw up. I was really ashamed of myself. I worship the Mistress, to me she really is a Goddess, then why should I find her menses repulsive to smell and taste? I started mentally conditioning myself. For the next month, I constantly kept thinking how gorgeous, divine she was, how good she was to me. Her body was a shrine to me and anything coming out of that body must be holy, a sacrament as far as I was concerned. I trained myself mentally and next month I did not have any problem. Mistress herself was proud of me. Now, of course, I find her menses quite attractive to smell and taste and every month, I look forward to the treat. I eagerly lapped up her fluids, enjoying the bloody taste mixed with her normal pussy juices. Soon she climaxed, flooding my mouth with warm, frothy, pink colored juices. I lapped everything up. Because she had started bleeding during the night, everything was a bit messy down there. Some of her juices has flowed down to her asshole. First I licked her thighs clean, then started on her buttocks. Starting with her pussy, I worked my way to the crack of her ass. I licked the crack of her ass and then concentrated on her asshole. The usual pungent smell of her asshole was mixed with bloody smell and the taste was quite appealing. It took a while, but eventually I got her clean. Then I inserted my long, talented tongue into her asshole and gave her asshole a good reaming on the inside. When I was finished, I blew on her asshole to dry it and then planted a small kiss. I looked up at her. However, she was not satisfied. "Now I want one more orgasm and this time, make it last for half an hour," she ordered me. I am not bragging, but by now I have become an expert in Mistress's orgasms. I know exactly where to lick to speed things up, how to slow things down, vary the intensity of orgasm etc. I can bring her off in two minutes or an hour, whatever she wishes. She wanted half an hour so I started off slowly. Just as I was about to put her over the top, her cellular phone rang. Even though my face was buried in her heavenly snatch, I could indistinctly hear what she was saying. But I had a problem. Should I bring her off while she was talking (half an hour was almost up) or should I delay until she had finished her phone call? Finally I decided to delay orgasm until after her phone call. "Hello?...Yes, this is Mistress Linda....Oh, how are you, Master Raymond?... Well, I am still in bed, I woke up a while ago. My slave is servicing me, don't be surprised if you hear me moan as we talk.....Yes, the orchids belong to me, what of it?... I don't know if I want to sell....How much?...You realize, of course that they are worth a lot less than that? Why do you want to buy them anyway?...Yes, of course, that is your business.... Well for that kind of money, you have a deal." "Ohhh, that is it, baby, gently nibble on my clit." As if I needed to be told what to do. I have been bringing her to climax for a long time now and I like to think I know a thing or two about how to bring my Mistress off. In just a few minutes she had an earth shattering orgasm. It went on and on, for a long time. Finally she lay back on the bed, totally spent. She was now covered with sweat, in spite of the chilly weather. But I was not finished yet. I started to lick her bloody pussy to clean it. Once I clean her, no doubt she will wash up and put on a pad. While I was lapping up her juices, there was a loud knock on the door. We looked at each other in alarm. The knocking continued, it was as if somebody was trying to break down the door. "What the hell?" Mistress got up and opened the door. She already had her robe on, she slept in it. I was lying on the bed naked. If Mistress did not care that I was naked, why should I? It was Heather at the door. My Mistress was not pleased. "Linda, I would like to buy your orchids from you," Heather said without any preamble. Now my Mistress was really pissed off. "What the hell do you mean knocking on my door like that? I am entitled to some privacy. If you wanted to talk to me, you could have waited until I came down, or called me on my cell." I was angry at Heather as well. We had not completed our morning ritual. I was not finished cleaning her pussy. I was looking forward to my golden nectar, my breakfast drink, which Mistress always gave me before going to wash up. Heather was apologetic. "I am sorry, Linda. I did not know your cell number and believe me, it is an emergency, otherwise I wouldn't have disturbed you. May I please buy the orchids from you? I will pay twice what you paid for them." "What is it with my orchids? Do they spout gold blossoms that I am not aware of? And you are too late. Master Raymond already bought them from me, he paid me four times what they are worth. What is it about anyway?" But Heather did not answer. "Oh, no. Not that asshole. I must talk to him," she practically ran downstairs. "Bitch." Mistress exploded as she returned to the bed. "Now, where were we?" "I have not finished cleaning your pussy, Mistress," I reminded her. "Well, don't be all day about it, or no golden nectar for you today," she snapped at me as she lay down on the bed and I became even angrier with Heather. I hurriedly licked her pussy clean, blew it dry and planted a small kiss on it. That was our code, whenever I was cleaning any of Mistress's body part with my tongue, I would plant a small kiss on it to indicate that I was finished. I lay down on the floor on my back. Soon I saw my mistress' glorious pussy descend upon my face. She squatted with her pussy right on my mouth. Her long, curly pussy hair started tickling my nose, but I was used to it. Her urine started to fall into my waiting, eager mouth in a small trickle. I was thrilled at the warm, salty, tangy, sweet taste of my Goddess' piss (my Mistress always used artificial sweetener in her drinks, so her urine had a sweet taste to it). Soon the trickle became a torrent. But I managed to drink it all down without spilling a drop. I had mastered the art of drinking her piss with my mouth open. When Mistress started this ritual, at first it was hard going. I remember the very first time, she was careful to piss into my mouth only a small trickle. However, still some of it spilled onto my chin and on the floor. Mistress gave me a well deserved thrashing for it. Next day I managed to spill only a small amount. However, practice makes perfect. That, and the strong disincentive of receiving a thrashing if I mess up (and I did receive several thrashings before my training was complete) meant that in a short while, I became an expert in drinking my Mistress's piss. Now I probably could do it in my sleep (not that I would want to try). So I drank up the bloody offering that came out of my Mistress' divine hole thirstily, licking her pussy clean afterwards. While I was cleaning her up, she told me. "That was Master Raymond on the phone, dear. He bought the orchids from me and I made two thousand dollars profit on the deal. Why he wanted to buy them from me I have no idea. There is one born every minute, I suppose. But now I will be able to get that boob job for you." Mistress likes to tease me like that. She is extremely rich (I know, I have seen her tax return), she can afford ten boob jobs without any problem. However, I did hope she would get me the boob job soon, as she promised. "You have been a good sissy, dear and you deserve a reward." The Mistress said as she started tying Mr. Big around her waist. My Mistress has several strap ons, which she uses to pleasure me. After I became her slave, that is the only way I am allowed to climax. Of all the strap ons, Mr. Big is special, at least to me. My Mistress took my cherry with Mr. Big. It is a double dildo, the smaller part of which goes inside Mistress's pussy. The big part (and it is really big) goes into my 'pussy'. Where the two join, it has a broad base, which can fit snugly onto Mistress's loin forming a tight seal. In addition, the monster that goes into me is hollow. The advantage of it is that Mistress can inject her fluids into my pussy, as would be the case with a straight man-woman intercourse. Since it forms a tight seal with Mistress' loin, whatever is produced by her body goes into me without any mess. Mistress picked up my foot, brought it to may head and inserted it in the elastic restraint which was already in place at the head board (Madam Mystica had thought of everything). She did the same thing with my other foot, thereby exposing my asshole for easy access, ready to be ravaged. She started fucking me in the ass. She had already filled some lubricant into Mr. Big, so as it entered my asshole, it started squirting the lubricant. As she started fucking me with slow, even strokes, soon my anal passage became fully lubricated. In addition, my asshole was already enlarged due to repeated fucking by the Mistress, so penetration was not difficult. I felt only slight amount of pain, but mostly pleasure. I remember the time Mistress took my virginity. We had a marriage ceremony, of sorts (I think I am married to the Mistress, but I am not sure, when I saw her tax return, I pointed out to her the tax advantages of getting married, so she may have done it). I had a bridal gown on and Mistress insisted that I leave it on for our honeymoon night. The intercourse on my wedding night was sheer torture, I have never experienced so much pain in my life. I remember screaming a lot. When it was over and we both had orgasmed, Mistress told me to take off the now bloody wedding dress (as I lay sobbing on the bed). She had it vacuum packed in a transparent plastic and it is on proud display in her master bedroom. However, these days there is no bleeding, no pain, only pleasure. Soon Mistress increased the speed and intensity of her strokes. I could feel her pubic hair covered thighs banging hard against my smooth, hairless buttocks (I, of course am not permitted hair anywhere except my head and eyebrows). She bent down, brought her lips on my lips and kissed me hard, transferring saliva into my mouth and feeding it to me in the process. Soon she climaxed with a scream. As Mistress climaxed repeatedly, she nevertheless kept on fucking me with rapid strokes. Her secretions gathered up inside Mr. Big and flowed down deep into my ass. It was just like man - woman intercourse, with Mistress being the man and I being the woman. I was grateful to her that she was filling me up with her essence. At the same time, she massaged my prostrate and I ejaculated with a moan. My cock was only semi erect and these days, only a small amount of mostly clear liquid comes out of it when I climax. I think Mistress had me chemically castrated (she puts documents in front of me from time to time, which I of course sign without reading, so she has authority to do pretty much anything to me she pleases). I notice my penis has shrunk, does not get totally hard and my secretions are clear and runny. I mean to ask her about it some day, if I remember (being a dumb blonde has its disadvantages). Anyway, soon she stopped shaking and lay down on me, panting and exhausted. She was dripping sweat and I was soaked with her sweat. I clung to her with both my hands and kept stroking her silky smooth hair. She started kissing me all over my face, soon my face was soaked with her sweat and her saliva. Then she started urinating into Mr. Big and I could feel her warm urine land deep into my rectum. I moaned in contentment and closed my eyes. She apparently did not feed me all of her golden nectar, but must have left some behind to give me the golden enema. Soon she was finished, I could feel my bowels full. She untied Mr. Big from her waist, leaving it inside my ass. It acted as a plug and kept my Mistress' urine inside me. She went to the bathroom to wash up. This is the part I usually dreaded the most. I had to hold the enema inside me until she was finished and it was quite an effort to do it. When I went to wash up, the second thing I did was to thoroughly clean Mr. Big. That has always been my job. Eventually we both got ready and went downstairs to eat, by now it was lunch time. We saw Mistress Dawn and Debbie sitting at a table so we took our trays and joined them. "Good morning, dear," Mistress Dawn greeted us (that is, she greeted the Mistress). "And a good morning to you. How are you Debbie?" Debbie was massaging her nipple through her blouse. "All right, Mistress," she replied bashfully. "What's the matter, dear? Is your nipple sore? Oh, of course. The nipple clamps, I assume?" she asked Mistress Dawn. "Yes, big time. She has bruises all over her both breasts. I am sure she will think twice before sassing me again." Mistress Dawn replied, holding Debbie to her bosom and stroking her hair. "Yes, mom. I will. I am sorry," Debbie said in her Mistress' breasts. Mistress Dawn solved the mystery of the orchids for us. "It was like this. A few of us were sitting in the main hall after breakfast, talking, discussing last night's orgy (you missed a great orgy, by the way). Suddenly Heather came running from the basement. She had a very strange tale to tell." "She was standing over the orchid tank, watching the orchids. She took a few pellets in her hand. She bent over the tank and held out her hand. Unfortunately she did not hold it out far enough, her hand was close to her breasts. The diamond necklace was hanging from her neck, with the big central diamond nestling in her cleavage." "Five tongues flicked out from five orchids, grabbed the food pellets and retreated. Only one tongue didn't grab a pellet, it grabbed the diamond from her necklace. You remember the diamond she was wearing at dinner last night?" "Do I ever remember it. What a rock. Must be worth 100,000 dollars at least." According to Mystica, it is worth well over 200,000 dollars. She should know, she is something of an expert in diamonds. We could see Heather's necklace, with a hole where the diamond used to be." "Anyway, so what's the problem? She could easily retrieve the diamond?" "It's not that easy. You see, all five tongues were at about the same spot, so Heather couldn't tell which orchid snapped up her diamond." "Still, all she needs is a stick. She can poke around and see which one has the diamond. Why did she want to buy the orchids? And where does Master Raymond come in?" "Again, there is a complication. All five orchids had closed up." "I see." Mistress said softly. "That explains everything." "Do you have any idea how long they will remain closed?" "About a week. But the horticulturist assured me that they won't close up for at least 3-4 days, until after our get-together. I will have his hide for this." "Anyway, when she told us what happened, we burst out laughing." Mistress scowled. "Surely that wasn't very nice." Mistress Dawn looked uncomfortable. "I suppose it wasn't. But you should consider the circumstances. Heather did not take your advice, of being subtle. She was rude to the Masters and clingy, whiny to the Mistresses. Nobody wanted her as a sub and she did not make herself popular by her behaviour." "Still, poor girl has suffered a severe loss." "Anyway, she wanted to know who the orchids belonged to. Apparently she wasn't there yesterday when you gave us the demonstration. I am afraid we had a bit of fun at her expense." Then she remembered something. "You mentioned Master Raymond. How does he figure into this?" "You won't believe this, but he bought the orchids from me this morning." "Why, the dirty so and so. Now I remember, while we were talking, he excused himself, said he had to go to the washroom. That is when he must have called you. Anyway, we told her after a while that you owned the orchids. Right away she went off looking for you." "Well, she found me, and she was very rude about it too. It was all mysterious to me, why all of a sudden everybody was interested in buying the orchids. But now I understand." By now, most people had just about finished their lunch. We saw Master Raymond address the gathering. "Could I have everybody's attention please? Thank you. Now, I assume everybody is aware that I purchased the orchids from Mistress Linda here. Also I assume everybody has heard of the unfortunate mishap suffered by the sub wannabe, Heather. So one of the orchids contains a very valuable diamond, we don't know which one. Madam Mystica will vouch for the authenticity of the diamond, won't you, dear?" Mystica spoke up. "Certainly, the diamond is worth at least 200,000 US dollars. But where are you going with this, Raymond? Shouldn't you give the orchids to poor Heather, after all, it is her diamond." "Certainly not. The orchids belong to me, I bought them fair and square. If Heather was dumb enough to stand next to orchids with the diamond dangling from her beautiful neck, that is her affair." "What I propose to do is to auction off the orchids. I will auction off only four, I will keep one for myself. To me, it is not so much the money, it is the thrill, the sport. So I will have one chance in five of keeping the diamond. Anybody is free to bid on one or more of the orchids.