Chapter 59

Being intentionally awake after midnight felt utterly alien to Cassie. She lay on her bed with her arms wrapped around herself, the dark stillness like a foreign dimension. At night, she felt far more at home in the dreamverse than anywhere else. She was not frightened of the dark; she felt out of place, as if the physical constants of reality were just slightly off.

She uttered a husky sigh as she resisted the urge to squirm. Her pussy ached and oozed, and the heat within its folds felt like a glowing coal. She had long since given up using any form of self-pleasuring to sate her. She had only one recourse now.

If she had interpreted his emotions correctly. If he would allow himself to cross the line between fantasy and reality. If she could bring herself to do it.

She had thought midnight to be the ideal time to leave her room. By then the servants were reduced to a skeleton staff, and none would be in the upper floors where the bedrooms lay unless specifically summoned. Her mother never went to bed later than ten, and her father had followed at 10:30. She assumed that was when Mr. Giani had retired.

Cassie glanced at the clock just as the digits changed to 12:18 AM. She writhed despite her best efforts to suppress it. She had left her panties off so she would not go through them so fast, but she was not about to leave the room without it.

She forced herself to sit up and swing her legs over the side of the bed only to pause again. Part of her insisted she was out of her mind for doing this, which roused the specter that her mind had been altered, either by the spirit which had plagued her Projection travels or by the potion itself.

"This is just expediency," she whispered into the quiet. "Nothing more. I-I won't be like this when this is over. Mrs. Radson even thought so."

Yet no more conviction existed in the last statement than in anything else she could say. This was all a great unknown even to Debby, who very likely could have said anything to Cassie just to avoid panic.

Cassie finally stood. She shed her sheer nightgown and padded naked across the bedroom. She shivered at the idea of leaving the room like this; then there would be little doubt as to her intentions when she entered the guest suite.

Cassie stopped at the dresser and said, "I'm about to have sex with one of my father's business partners."

She had to hear what it sounded like to her own ears, but it was not as shocking as she had hoped. Perhaps if it had, it would have stopped her.

Cassie opened the dresser and for the first time wished she had more variety in underwear. She abandoned her first idea and stepped into the closet. There she found a flowing white nightgown with ruffled edges and pink trim. She had not worn it in several years, as was evident when she wrapped it around herself. It felt tight across her bosom, and the bottom lay just above her knees.

She sashed it and let out a tremulous sigh. Her nipples tingled when they slid against the silken material as she stepped towards the door.

As she cracked the door open, she wondered how many times she had sneaked about the mansion as a child. Whatever thrill she may have felt in reliving those moments was lost in her immediate need. Her pussy flared hot in anticipation as she slipped out of her room and closed the door behind her.

She paused and cocked an ear. She heard very faint sounds drifting up from the first floor, likely from the nighttime cleaning staff. She tiptoed down the curving hallway, holding her breath as she passed the top of the large staircase, letting it out only when she could no longer see the main hallway below.

The hall grew darker as she progressed, the guest suite located near the end of the corridor. She reached the door and raised her hand to knock when she realized what a foolish gesture it was. This was not a guest bedroom but a suite. It was the size of a luxury hotel room, complete with its own living room, lounge, and bathroom. By the time she knocked loud enough to be heard from the bedroom, she would surely have alerted someone else to her presence.

She grasped the great brass handle and nudged the door inward just to ensure it was not locked. To her relief, the lights were on. She turned around and backed into the suite, watching the hall until she had closed the door and engaged the lock.

"Well, good evening."

Cassie gasped and spun around, eyes wide. Her hand fluttered to her bosom, her heart pounding.

The first room of the suite was the lounge. A large plush sofa stood against the right wall, facing a flat-screen TV which filled the left wall. Just beyond the sofa was a small bar with a fully-stocked liquor cabinet and a sink.

Mr. Giani sat upon the sofa in a satin robe, one hand cradling a half-full brandy snifter. He bowed his head and gave Cassie a smile. "Or should I say, good morning, given the hour."

Cassie swallowed, everything she thought she was going to say having flown from her head. She wished she had no need for words; only one thing really mattered to her body at that moment.

No, I can't just throw myself at him! Cassie thought as she toyed with the sash of her robe. She forced her hands to her sides, determined to maintain some degree of elegance. It would at least make her feel less like a common slut.

She stepped away from the door. "Um ... yes, good morning. I ... I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

She eyed his drink. She had not recalled him accepting anything her father had offered earlier in the way of alcohol. Now she had to ask herself just how much had he drunk before she arrived?

When he put down the glass and stood, every movement was smooth and deliberate. He stepped away from the sofa and folded his hands behind his back. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Miss Kendall?"

"Please, call me Cassie," she replied. "I just..."

She trailed off, her eyes widening. There was no mistaking it now. She had indeed read him correctly. He was very good at maintaining a polite facade, but that was as far as it went.

"Yes?"

"Um ... this ... this is kind of hard to put into words, Mr. Giani."

"Fair is fair, I say. You may call me Marco."

"Marco," Cassie said in a soft voice. Her nipples tingled madly as she drew her next breath. "I wish ... I wish to spend some time with you tonight."

Marco hesitated before taking a step closer. "Is that so, Cassie? And, may I ask, in what capacity?"

Cassie understood. He was not going to read between the lines. She had to make the advance. That way it was clear he had not solicited her. She felt desire radiating from him like a heat lamp.

Cassie searched for the right words and found none. She tugged the sash open, paused, then parted the robe and shrugged it from her shoulders. It fell to a crumpled heap behind her, the tiny breath of air it stirred brushing against her pussy and doing nothing to cool her lust.

Marco's eyes roamed over her naked body, lingering first on her pert breasts before following the curve of her torso and hips, then flicking to her damp and swollen nether regions.

"Magnificent," Marco said in a breathless voice. "You are as beautiful naked as I had suspected you would be."

Cassie smiled faintly at the praise and shivered in anticipation.

He stepped to within arm's reach, but kept his hands behind his back. "Was I right in what I saw back in the lounge? Did I see what I thought I had in your eyes?"

"Yes," Cassie said in a husky voice, though her cheeks now became as warm as her pussy. "I ... I wanted you then, but I couldn't act on it, of course."

Marco looked thoughtful. "There is one thing I must ask you, and, please, answer me truthfully."

Cassie nodded. Her breath had become a soft pant.

"Are you here of your own will, or did your father send you?"

Cassie was too stunned to reply at first. "My own will," she finally said. "My father would never ... if ... if he knew I was..."

She clamped her mouth shut. Was that the wrong answer? Would he have preferred if...

He stepped forward and placed his hands upon her shoulders. Even that light, nonsexual touch made her shiver with desire.

"Yes," Marco said in a voice which only now began to betray his feelings. "Yes, I believe you."

He ran his hands slowly down her sides, eliciting a soft, breathy moan. His hands held her hips for a moment, then nudged her into turning around. Her heart thundered as his hands slid back up, and her legs trembled when he cupped her breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze.

"And I believe you truly are desirous of me," Marco whispered in her ear. "Just as I am of you."

He drew her to him, and she whimpered when she felt the bulge of his erection against her backside.

"I would not normally do this with someone so young, but ... but you are too beautiful, and I suspect you have not come to be deflowered. You act as a woman of experience despite your youth." He slipped his hand between her legs and found the center of her desire. She shuddered and rocked her hips to his light strokes. "And I suspect there is quite a lot you have done that your father would not approve of."

Cassie struggled to think through the haze of mounting pleasure. She had been so wrapped up in her own desires that she had not seen the obvious. Why was he so receptive? Why did he happen to be awake past midnight? Had he somehow been prepared for her?

As if in response to her query, for a fleeting moment she felt a presence at the edge of her senses, a flicker of amusement like the glimmer of a distant lighthouse before being swallowed up by the fog.

She was too horny to be angry with him.

She barely remembered the transition; the next thing she knew, she was being lowered onto his bed. His robe was off, his cock long, hard, and pulsing. His face maintained a controlled, dignified look despite the desire which burned in his dark eyes.

He entered her slowly, but she was too needy to wait. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him inside her to a brief spike of amusement from him. He smiled and obliged, thrusting hard and deep, her hips rocking in perfect concert.

"Yes, you are indeed a woman of experience," Marco said in a deep but breathy voice.

She would have given him a similar compliment had her mind not been a tumult of her own emotions and his. He drew closer and angled his thrusts to maximize her pleasure. Her breasts bounced with the force of his thrusts, brushing against his wiry chest hair.

She could have stepped back and observed her tryst from a less lust-addled perspective but refrained. She wanted the entire experience, despite how guilty she was sure she would feel later.

Or was she only fooling herself? How much had she dwelled on her previous trysts with strangers? Had they really bothered her that much, or was that only wishful thinking?

Cassie gasped and panted as her pleasure plateaued, and her pussy strained, only to send her higher still. His breath grew heavy and short, his body pressed to hers and squeezing the soft flesh of her breasts against his chest. His arms wrapped around her as his thrusts grew more urgent.

She sensed he was close. As if acting upon that cue, her pussy strained hard, her legs almost seizing. She tilted her head back, her fingers curling into the firm muscle of his arms.

Marco let out a long, guttural moan into her ear and slowed to a single long plunge into her depths. Her orgasm exploded against the press of his body to hers, and she heard him utter a tiny gasp as her pussy throbbed and squeezed his cock.

He uttered something in Italian and gave her a few last slow thrusts with his still firm cock. She found her voice only after overcoming her sensory overload, letting out a shrill cry as her pussy throbbed without seeming end even as his erection flagged. As if still sensing her need, he kept himself pressed to her until she was finally spent.

Cassie closed her eyes, gasping too hard to speak.

"You have ... the stamina ... of someone ... twice your age ... dear Cassie," Marco said between pants. He paused to recover his breath before he spoke again. "To be honest, I am not quite sure what came over me. I am not in the habit of bedding those so young."

"If it helps any, I don't usually do this with older men," Cassie said in a soft voice, hoping it would remain the case in the future. "I apologize if I caused you any grief."

He smiled. "Not at all, but we will need to keep this quiet, you understand."

Cassie nodded halfway through his statement. "I do have a request, though."

"Oh?"

She sensed his wariness even if he left it out of his voice. "I have ... personal matters I need to attend to tomorrow morning. Could you please ask my father that you and he go on this trip tomorrow by yourselves?"

His smile widened. "Is that all you ask of me? Of course, I will be glad to. In fact, this would be better for the both of us, as there will be no chance of, shall we say, awkward moments? Though I will make it clear I thoroughly enjoyed your company the night before, which will be the absolute truth."

Cassie let out a small sigh of relief and offered a genuine smile. "Thank you, Marco."

Marco kissed her gently on the cheek and lifted herself from her. "And now I fear you must head back to your room. The sooner you do, the less chance of an unfortunately discovery."

Cassie nodded and climbed out of bed. He slipped on his robe and followed her into the lounge. "It is a pity I will likely never see you again once I have concluded this deal with your father."

Cassie gathered her robe and turned towards him, her eyes widening. "Oh, goodness, I didn't influence your--"

Marco raised a hand and shook his head. "No need to worry, my dear. I had already decided to conclude this deal with Mr. Kendall. But, ah, please do not tell him. Nothing says I cannot still negotiate for the best price."

Cassie nodded and smiled again as she put on her robe. "Thank you. Good night."

"Good night, dear Cassie."

Cassie slipped back out into the hall and closed the door behind her. She let out a slow sigh as she let her eyes adjust to the dimness. Had she actually done it? It almost seemed like a dream now.

She returned to her bedroom and paused, extending her senses as far as she could. The spirit was no longer present. Perhaps he had never been there, and it had been only her imagination.

Cassie changed into her normal night gown and panties and slipped into bed. She fell into a calm and uneventful sleep.

Diane rose from the depths of an unsettled slumber, uttering a soft moan as she stirred under the covers. Her eyes fluttered open, dark with repressed desire as the last vestiges of an intensely erotic dream clung to her psyche as if intending to follow her into the real world.

Diane slid her hand under her panties. Her breath emerged as a short, husky sigh as her fingers sank into wet folds. She tilted her head back and panted as she swirled her fingertips over her clit. She pawed one breast as Jason had done in her dream, and she spread her legs wider as if accepting his cock.

The night before, Diane had been unable to sleep until she had given up control of her body to her enslaved self. Then she had fallen asleep almost at once, as if eager for the nocturnal visitations she knew would come. Not a single dream from which she awoke -- often in the same wet and wanting state -- was about anything other than sex with Jason.

The bed squeaked as Diane rocked her hips in time to her finger thrusts, wishing for all the world that it was Jason's cock instead. Her protected self had awoken along with the rest of her, but found it easier to let this play out and, hopefully, satiate her for now.

Diane panted hard as her pleasure rose, and her protected self was forced to revel in it as well. All rational thought came to a standstill as her back arched, fingers whipping back and forth in a desperate drive towards climax. Her pussy strained for an unnaturally long time.

She understood why a moment later when an urge suddenly rose deep inside the enslaved self. Words formed and tumbled from her mouth before she could discern them. "I'm a good girl," Diane moaned. "Good little girl ... good little slave ... slave to Jason's cock... uhhng!"

Diane's hips bucked as she throbbed, and obedient bliss saturated her isolated self's mindscape. Jason had made her reinforce her own enslavement. It made a certain practical sense, she supposed. If he could not be here all the time, he had to maintain his control over her somehow.

She waited until her orgasm had played out, and her enslaved self floated in gentle waves of sexual euphoria. Diane suddenly shuddered and sat up. The look of bliss vanished, and her face dropped into her hands.

Diane waited, but no tears came. She was over that at least. Perhaps she could function now without having an emotional breakdown every few minutes. The fact that she had awoken with her protected self still intact had given her a small measure of hope.

Nevertheless, she could not divorce herself completely from Jason's influence. By the time she had emerged from the bathroom, naked and fresh from her shower, her pussy had returned to a low flame of desire, her folds just damp enough to glisten faintly. She shuddered as she pulled on a pair of panties, the fabric against her mound like a gentle teasing touch against her clit. By the time she had finished dressing, it had escalated to low level pleasure, neither rising nor falling.

She paused. Again, no sobs, no tears. She was handling it.

She handled it all through breakfast, despite furtive looks of concern from her mother. Diane knew her mother could often read her like a book, yet she tensed anyway when Janet said as Diane got up to leave, "Diane, wait, please. I'd like to talk to you."

Diane's shoulders slumped, and she wanted to kick herself when she realized her mother had likely seen the gesture. She watched her father retreat to the basement to catch up on some chores before she turned to face her mother.

"Diane ... I need to know something and ... I need you to be truthful with me."

Diane tried not to tense further, but betrayed herself when she grasped the back of a dining room chair and squeezed it hard enough for it to creak. "Um, sure, mother. What is it?"

"What happened here yesterday afternoon while I was gone?"

"Nothing happened, mother," Diane said in a flat voice.

"'Nothing' ever happens. There is always something happening." Janet folded her arms, the unmistakable sign she did not want to hear another unacceptable answer. "So what was going on here while I was gone?"

Diane took a breath and let it go very slowly, so it would not be interpreted as a sigh. "It was just what I ... what Jason told you yesterday. I was worried when you weren't home, and I called Jason just to have someone to talk to. He offered to come over."

"From all the way across town," Janet said tonelessly.

Stand up to her, stick to your story, she chided herself. For once, don't be the wimp. "I guess I wasn't really thinking about that at the time, I just knew I was worried. I guess I wanted the company enough that it didn't matter to me how far away he was."