<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/dP9ckx7.jpg) <br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;"> Danai</span></strong> <span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">Dianne Devotee</span></strong></div></div></div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">Amanda thought it was hilarious.  The mark had now fallen to me.  Me.  Mistress's whimsy.  I was to indoctrinate and, well, do the necessary—to make sure Mistress du Monde has her way in every way.<br/><br/>I look him up and down.  Okay, I get into fierce, seductive mode. Quizzical.  I read my phone as if I don’t know who he is.  “Adam . . . , right?”  I look up.  I don’t wait for acknowledgement.  <br/><br/>“You’re to be made happy because Mistress has great designs on you.”  I suppose I could pretend he’s a girl.  “If all goes right you will be sitting at the right hand of Mistress, as her proxy, possessing all that was formerly known as the Rosendahl empire.” <br/><br/>I pout, lick my lips, “Are you a long term, delayed satisfaction sort or short term?”  I explain, “What I’m really asking is if you want to save yourself for the Queen of Diamonds.  She doesn’t allow, or go for anything spoiled.”  I trust that the question is clear.<br/><br/>I bat my lashes once more, wondering where his amazement will take him.<br/></span>