by River Belle
Contents
Title Page
TEASER
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
MORE
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POSSESSED BY THE SHE DEVIL
River Belle
TEASER
‘You look like you’re burning up,’ said Madame Perdita, and I became aware of the small droplets of sweat that were collecting on my forehead. She was right. I had a fever. ‘Let me help you,’ she said.
She reached towards me and took off my jacket, then I felt her fingers swiftly undoing the top buttons of my shirt. ‘How’s that?’ she said. ‘Is that better?’
I was still burning up. The heat was raging inside me. It was as if my blood had turned to flames. ‘More,’ I murmured. ‘I need to take off more.’
Madame Perdita undid the rest of my buttons and lifted the shirt back off my shoulders, peeling it off my clammy skin, and everywhere her hands touched me I felt a boiling hot tingle of something that could only be described as a mixture of pain and pleasure.
‘Please…’ I muttered. ‘Help me.’
This book may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the copyright holder. This story contains explicit content that is intended for adult audiences only. All characters involved in sexual situations are 18 years of age or older. Inspired by ‘Bitten and Swapped’ by Candy Banger. Excerpts used with full permission.
Copyright © 2014 River Belle. All rights reserved. Logo Image © photochatree, bigstockphoto.com. Cover Image © shmeljov, bigstock.com.
CHAPTER ONE
Here I was, about to start my first job in months, staring up at the most impressive mansion I’d ever seen. Even more imposing than anything I’d seen in the movies. So this is how it must feel to finally make it in life, I thought. Imagine owning a place like this. You’d have everything you ever wanted.
Iblis Mansion was enormous. I didn’t even have to go inside it to know how perfect it was. It went five storeys up, with ivy creeping right to the top. I could see a chandelier hanging behind each of the big windows - too many windows to count. The brickwork was painted a deep charcoal grey, with just the odd gold detail here, making it even more opulent. Behind the building, the soft English countryside looked so fragile, with its green curves and rolling hills, completely dominated by this gigantic protrusion in the landscape. The only criticism I could really level at it was that there was something a little – I don’t know – creepy about it. But despite that, it was the most wonderfully erected construction I had ever seen.
‘Is this really the right place?’ I asked my friend Mathew. ‘This woman really wants me to work for her?’
Mathew smiled, and patted me on the shoulders, a little too hard, so that I could feel a stinging where his palm had been. ‘You’re just what she’s looking for, Rachel,’ he said to me.
Hearing Mathew saying my name out loud like that made me shudder. I’d always hated my name. Couldn’t really explain why; it just didn’t feel like me.
Despite the unpleasant feeling of having heard my name out loud, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement. A successful billionaire really wanted me to come and be her assistant? I’d been off work for months, after a foot injury that had caused me to quit my job as an office manager. Going back to work as an assistant had initially felt like a big step down for me, but in the end I decided it would be nice to ease off some of that responsibility. I wasn’t a natural-born leader, that’s just the way it was. Besides, by the looks of this place, nothing about this job was going to be a step down. This place was the jackpot. If anything, it was more than I deserved.
‘Okay,’ I said to Mathew. ‘I’m just not sure why she wants me, of all people.’
‘She’s seen your CV,’ said Mathew, ‘and I put in a good word, of course. I’ve told her all about you.’
I wasn’t really sure what there was for Mathew to tell. I was nothing special. I was twenty-one, and a little short. I’d always been on the thin side, never able to put on weight. I’d even tried protein shakes once, but to no avail. My lips had always been a little too thin, in my opinion, and my features too dainty. I’d always felt kind of awkward in myself, to be honest. What would the owner of a mansion like this possibly want with a girl like me?
‘I just don’t want her to be disappointed with me,’ I sighed. ‘I’ve never set foot in a house like this in my life. I don’t want to make the wrong impression.’
Mathew rolled his eyes. ‘Just show her some respect and she’ll be delighted with you,’ he said. ‘Madame Perdita is a good woman. As long as you treat her the right way, she’ll be satisfied. Just do as she says, and you’ll keep the job. You might even be the best employee she’s ever had.’
‘You do realise I have no idea how to do things like serve her dinner,’ I replied. ‘She’s not going to make me learn which knife goes where, is she? I’ll never get it right.’
Mathew laughed. ‘Trust me,’ he said. ‘Madame Perdita is not going to be interested in your ability to handle knives.’
‘Okay,’ I said, uncertain. I’d lived in the city all my life. Went to a normal suburban school, took part in a normal after-school drama club, had a normal job in a normal office in the city. I just hoped I was cut out for this. Mathew and I walked towards the door, and I looked up at the big gold door knocker.
‘I’ll be brave,’ I said. ‘I’ll do as Madame Perdita says. I won’t let her down.’
CHAPTER TWO
‘You can knock if you want to,’ said Mathew. ‘It’s your future we’re about to embark on.’
I looked up at the big gold door knocker, and saw that it had been moulded into the shape of a lion, with a gold mane and an open mouth. Its sharp teeth were being revealed, as if it was about to give out an almighty roar.
I grabbed the heavy gold ring around the knocker, and pushed it as hard as I could against the door, one, two…. three times. Even with my puny muscles, the knock was loud, and seemed to echo throughout the peaceful countryside.
For a moment, there was no sound or movement, and Mathew and I just stood there on the doorstep, looking at one another, and waiting. I noticed, for the first time, how good-looking Mathew was. I mean, of course, don’t get me wrong: I wasn’t into men. I was a bona fide, one hundred per cent lesbian. I didn’t fancy Mathew or anything. But I’d never noticed until now, that there was something special about the way he looked. He had a certain glint in his eye, a determination about him, that I admired. I wished, for a moment, that I could be more like him.
But as I heard footsteps approaching, all of those thoughts dissolved away, and I felt my legs shaking with fear.
The heavy door creaked slowly open, and behind it, a woman’s face appeared. A beautiful woman’s face, and then her body. She was wearing a maid’s outfit, like you see in those period English dramas, a small black dress, with a white apron, holding a duster. But even in a maid’s outfit, this woman was gorgeous. She had long, brown legs, an apron tucked in neatly at her tiny waist, and beautifully curved breasts, pulling slightly at the black fabric that covered them. Her hair was long, and was wavy and brown, like she’d ju
st stepped out of a shampoo advert. Her eyes were wide and blue, and she seemed to be drinking me in.
‘You must be Rachel,’ she said. I winced again at my name, then nodded. ‘Madame Perdita is expecting you.’
She pulled the door right back, and I could see even more of her body. Every curve of her outline turned me on. I felt a twinge of desire within me, but then, remembering I was about to be interviewed for a job, nerves took over again.
‘Come,’ said the woman, beckoning us in. ‘I’m Amy by the way.’
She turned around, revealing an incredibly tight little ass, and Mathew and I walked in, following her close behind.
CHAPTER THREE
It was, quite simply, the most incredible place I had ever seen. Not one thing was out of place. There was not a single speck of dust anywhere to be seen. And everything was made of the finest quality materials. Marble floor, ruby chandeliers, red velvet curtains. There were animal skin rugs, thick and luxurious, and, above the staircase, a tiger’s head protruded out of the wall, in a similar pose to the lion on the door knocker. Madame Perdita had the most confident and dynamic sense of style I’d ever seen.
‘Well,’ said Amy, looking back at us with a smile, ‘what do you think?’
‘It’s amazing,’ I gasped, almost welling up with tears, but stopping myself from such a pathetic display just in time. Come on, I said to myself. Madame Perdita isn’t going to want to see you like this.
Amy led us into a large, similarly dusty, drawing room, with plush, deep purple sofas, low mahogany tables, and several big sculptures dotted around at tasteful intervals. I walked up to one of the sculptures and held out my hand.
‘Don’t touch!’ shouted Amy, whipping around with panic in her voice.
I pulled my fingers away, as if they’d just been burnt, and looked quizzically at Amy’s fearful eyes. ‘Sorry,’ I said.
‘That’s okay,’ said Amy, exhaling sharply, and relaxing her shoulders. ‘I just got worried for a second there. Madame Perdita doesn’t like people touching her art.’
Mathew raised his eyebrows at me - I wasn’t sure if he was amused or reproaching me, but I crossed my arms defensively to show I wasn’t about to touch anything else.
As Amy and Mathew walked away, I took a quick peek at the statue I’d almost touched. It was a statue of a naked woman, coiled around a rock, as if she was holding onto it for dear life. Her long hair fell over her back and obscured her face, but there was something about the statue that seemed strange to me - what was it? Suddenly I noticed the woman’s back. It was covered in ridges, like thin trailing scars, almost like - what - lash marks? The other, more obvious thing about the statues in here, that was strikingly unusual, was their color. They were all a bright, ruby red. Could it really be that they had been carved from precious gems? That would cost a fortune!
‘Hurry up!’ called Mathew, who’d realised I was lagging behind, and I followed them into yet another plush room, this one with mahogany chairs around the outside of it, and the air of a smart waiting room rather than a living space.
‘Here we are,’ said Amy. ‘Madame Perdita is in there.’ She pointed to a black door, with deep carvings in the wood. ‘She’ll call you into her office in a moment.’
She curtseyed, and as she did so I watched her full breasts bob up and down, and felt that twinge of desire again. Then she walked away, her heels clicking on the marble floor.
Mathew turned his sparkling eyes on me. ‘This is it, then,’ he said. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’
‘What?’ I swallowed. ‘You’re not coming in with me?’
‘Of course not,’ smiled Mathew. ‘This is between you and her now.’ He reached out to shake my hand, and, tentatively, I took hold of it. His fingers grasped mine firmly, and he pumped my arm up and down.
I tried not to wince with pain at his overly firm handshake, and then, weakly, said: ‘Thanks, Mathew.’
Mathew nodded and then strode away, and I’m sure I heard a woman giggle in the hallway before the bang of front door sounded behind him.
I was left all alone in the big, imposing room, feeling like something of a needle in a haystack standing there, so small next to the giant paintings on the wall. Even the wooden chairs looked like thrones fit for queens, and I barely dared sit down. I walked over to the window and looked out onto the back garden. To call it a garden felt a little misleading. What I could see out there was the size of ten tennis courts - at least - and then a forest behind that. There were more statues, loads of them, and there was a fountain. There was even, actually, a tennis court. It was like a hundred people’s gardens put together.
How on earth could one woman become rich enough to accumulate all this? What had Madame Perdita’s family done to get so rich? This woman wasn’t even a millionaire - she was a billionaire - in the top ten richest women in Britain. How had she done it?
Suddenly there was a creak behind me and I could see the black door being opened. A woman in a cream dress, tall and thin and blonde and beautiful, motioned for me to follow her in. The woman was beautiful - immaculately dressed and with perfect posture. But something told me I still hadn’t met Madame Perdita. This woman was yet another of Madame Perdita’s eminently fuckable employees. But what about me? Was I really going to fit in here?
CHAPTER FOUR
The first thing I saw in the office was the sheer number of books. The room was lined with them, from top to bottom. Big old leather books, with dark covers. The sort of books a professor or scientist would have, or a wizard in a Hollywood movie might read spells from. It felt magical to be in a room like this.
Then I saw a desk over by the window. An enormous wooden desk, full of drawers and trinkets, with a golden lamp sitting on it. Then I saw her. Half in shadow, half drenched in sunlight, her glossy red hair shone brightly, and the shadows under her chin made it look as if her head was floating on top of a pool of darkness. Her deep-set eyes appeared above razor-sharp cheekbones, and her eyes were pale green and steady, their gaze fixed firmly upon me.
This woman is magnificent, I thought, as my legs trembled.
‘Come closer,’ she said, ‘I won’t bite.’ Then, with a mischievous grin, she added: ‘Not yet, anyway.’
Something about the way she said the word ‘bite’ made me stifle a nervous laugh, but I managed to stay silent and took a step forwards. I was shocked by how pale Madame Perdita looked close up.
‘Mathew tells me you’re here to enter my service.’
‘I… I…’ I muttered. Come on, I said to myself. Pull yourself together. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’d like to be your new assistant.’
‘Well,’ Madame Perdita smiled. ‘That’s excellent.’ She looked up at the woman behind me, who I’d forgotten was still there. ‘That will be all, Sandra.’
Sandra left the room and closed the heavy door behind her. We were alone. I took a moment to study Madame Perdita more closely, amazed to be so near this powerful woman, honoured that she actually wanted to spend time with me.
From head to toe, she was perfect. There was no way, with those features, that she could be anything other than aristocracy. She was strong and yet feminine, beautiful and commanding. She seemed like the exact opposite of me. The type of woman my ex-girlfriend, Kate, had always said she wanted me to be. The type of woman I could never become.
It’s weird, actually, I was expecting someone so powerful to be older, but she looked the same age as me, maybe only a couple of years older at most. But a billion times as confident.
‘No need to be nervous,’ said Madame Perdita, looking at my trembling hands. ‘Let’s get you a drink.’
She reached for a decanter on her desk, and slowly poured me a glass of ruby-red liquid.
I reached out eagerly for the glass, desperate to drink something that might calm my nerves, to show her I was capable of taking on this job, but she ignored my outstretched hand, and did not pass the glass to me. ‘Before I give you this,’ she said, ‘I just want to make sure this
is the job for you.’
I tried to give her my most steely gaze, to keep my breathing as smooth as possible.
‘You do understand,’ she said, ‘that this is a live-in job? You’ll stay in the house here, with me, and remain in my service, under my rules, for the length of your contract.’
I nodded, trying not to scream: Of course I understand! Live here! With you! It’s a dream come true! I’ll do whatever you say. ‘I understand,’ I said sombrely, trying not to give away my excitement.
‘So you won’t mind signing this contract,’ she said, passing me a sheet of paper.
‘A contract?’ I asked. ‘So I’ve got the job?’
Madame Perdita motioned towards a pen. ‘Your friend Mathew has told me all about you. Now that I can see you in the flesh, I can tell that he was right. You are perfect for this role.’
The word ‘perfect’ made my spine tingle; the tingle travelled from my neck all the way down, right down, until I could feel it in the pit of my stomach, in my groin. I signed the piece of paper. ‘I’m willing to give this everything I’ve got,’ I said.
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Madame Perdita, and finally, she handed me my drink. ‘In that case, we’ve got a lot to celebrate.’
CHAPTER FIVE
‘Aren’t you going to have a drink?’ I asked, worried that I was going to appear rude not being able to clink glasses with her, enjoying my refreshment alone.
‘Oh no,’ she replied. ‘I reserve this particular drink solely for new employees. Now drink up.’
I looked at the bright red liquid in my glass. What could it be? Some special sort of scotch? Brandy? A pomegranate cocktail? I had never seen a drink so – red – in all my life.