Chapter 2

That night as the image of those green eyes returned from her subconscious, Fiona Clansman masturbated for the first time in her life. By the time morning came she had orgasmed three times, always with the image of Katharine Granger's smiling face in her mind. As she lay in the early morning sunlight coming through her window, she tried to fathom why in the last twenty-four hours she had more sexual satisfaction than in her whole life. And she hadn't been fucked!

Now where on earth had that come from! She never used or even thought in what her mother called gutter language. She even admonished Ted in their intimate moments if he used such expletives. She returned to her analysis. Why had all this sexual excitement been induced by a woman? What was it about her? 'I'm not gay!' she thought to herself. 'I still feel the need to be fucked. Oh God what is it with me? I have changed. Now is it the shock of Ted's letter or something to do with that woman.' As this last thought passed through her mind, she immediately saw the 'cat's eyes'. "That woman!" she uttered throwing the covers back and rising.

As she passed her wardrobe she caught sight of herself in the mirror. "I'm naked! I went to bed in the nude!" She stared at her image in the mirror. 'God' she thought, 'all those times Ted wanted me to strip off for bed and I refused. The first night of our separation and I have, without realising it.' However, the woman looking back at her looked her age. 'Big bum, big tum' and droopy tits' she thought, 'now that does not look too appetising for any man' and then as an afterthought 'or woman.' For the first time in her life, she felt inadequate. She wanted a better body. "I've got to find a gym" she said as she went to the bathroom.

As the week progressed, work and making sure Russ and Lizzie were comfortable with the new order of things held her attention. She had though enrolled at a gym close to home and her "personal trainer" a young woman who reminded so much of Lizzie had organised for her an exercise regime for two visits a week. While she was sorting out the days for her visits, she noticed the appointment with the school Principal on the following Friday. When she returned home, she got her diary out and stared at the pencil scribbled words in the space for Friday. 'And it would be Friday the thirteenth' she realised, 'that is a little scary.'

The following morning after another night of eroticism in her thoughts and dreams, she received a letter from Katharine Grange.

Dear Fiona

I hope you do not mind the informal address, but I think it is appropriate. Your thoughts and dreams since we met have been seriously erotic. I know, I've been there.

I feel that the school is an unsuitable venue for our Friday appointment. I would prefer for us to meet on neutral ground. Can I invite you to dinner, my treat, at the Cavendish Hotel at the same time. It is a formal restaurant, so glad rags are de rigueur I'm afraid.

If you do not wish to accept this invitation, then you will here no more from me other than in my professional capacity as Russell and Elizabeth's Principal. Your life and dreams will return to normal. If however, the little taster of what it could become has attracted you, you will accept my invitation.

I look forward to your reply

Sincerely

Katharine

There was an acceptance/refusal card in the envelope.

Fiona sat down on the stool at her breakfast bar and reread the letter, then stared at the acceptance card. What to do? Her conscience was urging caution, but some inner force — a demon on her shoulder perhaps — with immensely more persuasive ability was telling her to pick up a pen and cross out sorry, but unable to attend. 'I cannot go on as I have. With Ted gone, he is certainly not going to return unless something changes. I will go!' She found a pen and drew a line through sorry, but unable to attend. Russ or Lizzie could deliver it at school the following day.

She then realised she had nothing that would pass for glad rags. "Some retail therapy will not do me any harm" she said aloud to herself.

So, at four forty-five on the Friday evening, Fiona parked her car in the Cavendish car park and made her way to the restaurant. She had bought herself a complete outfit from the bottom up. A black basque and panty, black seamed stockings — the panty-less experience the night of the parent's evening had prompted her to try stockings and she liked the feel. A black off-the-shoulder cocktail dress that had a knee length flared skirt. She had also bought herself some new black patent shoes with what she initially thought were ridiculously high, four inch heels. Lizzie thought they were sexy and as they were the same shoe size, said she would certainly be borrowing them.

As she entered and waited for the maitre d', her host suddenly appeared at her side. "I already have our table sorted. Will you please come this way?"

Fiona followed this beautiful woman into the depths of the restaurant. She was wearing a calf length burgundy-red, silk dress. It was full skirted, backless — she couldn't be wearing a bra, halter-neck with a deep décolleté. Katharine made sure Fiona was settled before sitting herself opposite. It was all Fiona could do to keep her eyes from drifting down to those wonderful tits.

Fiona felt totally at ease with her new friend. They talked pleasantries as they waited for the meal to arrive and during the meal. After their coffees had been served and the waitress had left. Katharine stared deep into Fiona's eyes as if searching something out. "Now Fiona, you are totally flummoxed as to what is going on. Your increased libido has brought you pleasure you thought had long since gone."

"That presumes it was there originally" Fiona interrupted ruefully.

"You poor girl" Katharine responded, "hopefully you will be able to make up for lost time."

"And how prey, is this happy transformation to be facilitated?"

"You will be anointed into our order, to keep unwanted enquiries away, we call ourselves The Ladies Society. Ostensibly, we are a sort of women's institute, but are activities would make their grey hair curl." Katharine paused trying to gauge Fiona's reaction. "Are you interested?" The light flashed in Katharine's eyes.

Fiona felt her vulva respond. Oh yes! She was interested. "I came did I not? What does this anointing involve?"

You will be anointed with a special fluid that will induce changes to your body. Effectively, your ageing process will be arrested and somewhat reversed. You have had a taster of that also, did you notice your clitoris?"

"Did I? It became very distended when I was aroused." Fiona smiled at the memory of the previous Friday.

Katharine glanced around the restaurant then put her hands behind her neck. "Look at my tits Fiona" the halter top to the dress fell to reveal two perfect breasts and their crowning glory. Her nipples were at least three quarters of an inch long and half an inch across. "These are 38F, F, Fiona. I never wear a bra, even to school" She recovered her bosom.

"That's one hell of a sales pitch! Those are wonderful boobs" Fiona gushed.

"Fiona, I've got a room reserved here, I want to carry on this discussion in absolute privacy. Will you come with me?" The eyes flashed again.

Fiona felt her pussy tingle, there would be no resistance to this woman. "Lead on Macduff."

They arrived in Katharine's suite. Katharine produced another bottle of the excellent wine they had been drinking and they sat in the large picture window looking out over the town.

"Are you a religious person Fiona?"

"No, my mother was — still is — a devout catholic and therein lay a lot of my hang-ups. I lost my passion for religion a long time ago. Why?"

"Because we, you, I and the other sisters are descended by the direct female line from the wife of Beelzebub, Satan himself." Katharine allowed that to sink in.

"Bloody Hell! How do you know I am?" Fiona was starting to wonder what she had got herself into. Katharine took her to the mirror and repeated the exercise of the previous Friday. "Oh, I see." She returned to her chair.

"In the old days the order used to get up to all sorts of mischief, stirring up trouble for the organised churches mainly. We still do it a little today, but with a little more circumspection. These days we just keep the order ticking over and use it for our own hedonistic purposes. We don't have a register of members, we operate in small cells,"

Still standing by the mirror Katharine continued. "There are also thirteen men in our order, the disciples, they are our cousins, direct descendants by the male line. It is their function to act as conduits between the cells and to anoint new members such as yourself. To give you some idea of what is involved, I will show you what happens, it helps to replenish the fluid on a regular basis anyway. Draw those curtains and get undressed, you'll enjoy it more."