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Cynthia grumbled. Her steps were angry marching through the door. The shadows hid in fear as the hanging chandelier roared to life in a blinding haze. The lace of her conservative black dress swept toward Marcella menacingly. It saddled her neck with a folded white collar and pinned auburn buttons down the sable column guarding her body. Given a headdress, one might have mistaken her for a nun.“It’s late Marcy” She said. The stack of letters in her hands was tied with a pale blue ribbon. The postman’s signature seal. “There’s nothing from your parents yet, and these letters will be here in the morning”The excitement drained from Marcella’s face. “Oh,” she pouted “I guess I’ll still take a look…” and twiddled her fingers anxiously.“Or…” Cynthia muttered. Her gown had fallen in a thick pile around her tawny legs. A lacy bra and matching panties was all that protected against the cool air “I could… tuck you in again”. The almond skinned vixen didn’t wait for an answer.She pushed herself. All she had done was find a bug that had gone undetected for years and innocently, ignorant of what it was, told him about it. All she had done was everything he had asked of her. And then some. All she had done was adore him.He had yelled at her. He had almost struck her in a rage this morning. Yes, of course that's what pets were for, but she wasn't ready yet. He hadn't taken everything from her yet. Besides, the plan wasn't in place. Not yet, but she was already so much more totally devoted to him than any of the others had been. He needed to get away from this bewitching vixen, catch his breath.Patting her on the head, then leaning down and kissing her softly on the cheek he told her he would see her in a couple of days. Alvin would work with her, but she was to stay in her old apartment. He would call her when to come back.She beamed up at him and wished him a successful trip and a speedy return. She rubbed her cheek suggestively over his crotch, letting him know wordlessly that.
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