Six Masters Island - The Cinderella Syndrome

by Candace Smith

  The girl pushed her way over to them. “Daryl, there you are. I wasn’t finished telling you about my cruise. On the third day, we snorkeled in…”

  “Excuse me, Angela. How many days was this cruise?” Nicolette asked.

  Angela glanced down and said, “Ten,” and swiveled her adoring eyes back to Daryl. “And we went near some reefs with the most colorful…”

  “How many islands did you visit?” Nicolette interrupted.

  “I don’t know,” Angela replied irritably. “Six, I think.” She turned back to Daryl, “All different kinds of fish. And the water was so clear…”

  “I knew you were the one that George was talking about,” Nicolette replied.

  Angela continued, “That you could see all the way… George? George who?” Angela frantically searched her mind. She had wasted two Winter Displays trying to catch Daryl, and this was the first year she had managed to pry him loose from the other searching women. Somehow, she still did not think he understood her intentions.

  “Oh, I don’t remember his last name,” Nicolette replied vaguely. “He was telling some people about a gorgeous girl he saw named Angela, while he was vacationing with his family.” Nicolette gave a small wave of distraction. “They ended up buying an island, or something. I didn’t pay much attention, because he obviously had his mind set on this Angela person. And all that talk about money and buying islands… don’t pretentious people annoy you?” Nicolette asked.

  “They bought an island?” Angela’s eyes widened in panic and she tried to remember the man. “What did he say about me? Are you sure it was me… I mean… I guess it has to be an ‘Angela’ in our crowd, right? You can’t remember his last name?”

  “I really didn’t listen too closely. He was wandering near the music room when I came in here a while ago,” Nicolette suggested.

  “Oh… oh… I’ll be right back, Daryl.” Angela pushed her way to the other room.

  “Poor George,” Calla laughed.

  “Poor any of the ‘Georges’,” Nicolette smiled. “I tried to pick a name that would keep her busy searching.”

  “I owe you one,” Daryl said.

  “And you can pay me back now,” Nicolette replied. “Second door on the left, upstairs. See if you can coax my sister to come down and join us. Her name is Bridgette, and she can be a little shy. You’ll have more trouble getting her to join us than you will getting rid of her. I promise.”

  Daryl shrugged and turned towards the stairs. Anything was better than having Angela corner him again. He knocked on the door. “Bridgette?”

  A few seconds passed, and then, “Yes?”

  “Nicolette wants you to meet some people. It’s just my family, and we’re sitting over to the side of the party. Why not come down for a minute?” There was no answer. “I’ll personally escort you back upstairs whenever you want.”

  The door cracked open. “I’m all right up here.”

  Daryl grinned at the blue eye peering at him. “Then, can I come in? I’m exhausted trying to outrun some crazy woman down there.” The eye smiled… and the door opened. “I’m Daryl.”

  “Bridgette.” The girl held out her hand, and Daryl stared into the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen. He turned her hand and kissed her palm.

  Bridgette moved back and Daryl walked in. She had a naked girl tied to her bedpost with a series of ropes, and what appeared to be an entire package of wooden clothespins clamped to her breasts, belly, underarms, thighs and pussy. She walked to the window seat and picked up the wine glass sitting on the sill. Bridgett had been watching the action on the back lawn.

  “Phew,” Daryl exclaimed, and he traced lines of pinching pins and rope on the girl. She was crying softly behind the gag. “This must have taken hours.”

  Bridgette shrugged. “I was bored.” She gazed back out onto the large crowd gathered in the backyard and gave an exasperated sigh.

  Daryl walked over to look out onto the grass where the offered slaves were being chained to posts, with potential bidders studying them. As usual, the Venetia Blossoms had a crowd around them. Pansy, Belladonna, and Chameleon appeared to be the favorites, although Jasmine and Cosmos were certainly getting scrutinized, because they were being sold as a pair.

  “Those are yours,” Bridgette confirmed. She had been admiring the women from her window seat.

  “How did you know?” Daryl asked.

  Bridgette rose and poured him a glass of wine. “You have your mother’s eyes. She used to come over and visit with my mom, when she got sick.” She pointed back at the slaves. “And everyone recognizes the Venetia Blossoms.”

  “We usually have a few more prepared for the auction, but there were quite a few changes to the estate this year. Father trained two as ponies,” Daryl informed her.

  “Oh, I remember Chayton telling us about that. It’s popular in Europe and the Island, but it hasn’t caught on here as much,” Bridgette replied.

  “I think your sister wants me to bring you downstairs. We’ve managed to isolate ourselves into a little group on the side, because the lights make Calla uncomfortable,” Daryl told her.

  They talked for a while, and Bridgette said, “You’re sure it’s just a few people?”

  “Come.” He led her to the door and cracked it open. “See the sofa over there?”

  “Who’s the pretty one with the white hair?”

  “That’s my sister-in-law, Calla.”

  Bridgette looked up excitedly. “Are her eyes red?”

  “Nope, blue with a little purple. Isn’t she incredible?”

  “God, she’s stunning,” Bridgette whispered.

  “You’d like her. She looks fragile, but she’s actually very confident and strong.”

  Bridgett looked at a small group of women standing a few feet away from her, and her voice lowered. “People are staring at her.”

  “People are idiots,” Daryl replied.

  “They’re staring at her,” Bridgette repeated angrily. “How dare they?

  “Calla has learned to deal with it.”

  “She shouldn’t have to. Why aren’t those men sitting by her sticking up for her?” Bridgette asked, with a hint of indignation in her voice.

  “Because Calla would probably skin them alive. She prefers to ignore people who are rude.”

  “Well, someone needs to tell them off,” Bridgette announced. She downed her wine and placed the glass on her dresser. The slave tied to the bedpost whined, and Bridgette grabbed the end of a line threaded through the pins that were pinching one breast. She yanked, and a wail accompanied the popping sound of a dozen snapping clothespins. “I told you to shut up. You’re distracting me.” Bridgette grabbed Daryl’s hand and stormed out of the room.

  Kyle warned, “Here comes Angela again.”

  “I looked all over, and there were only two Georges. They didn’t own islands and they didn’t know who I was talking about,” Angela complained.

  “Oh, you didn’t see him?” Nicolette asked. “You must have passed right by him. Did you see where he went, Calla?”

  “I wasn’t really watching, but towards the library, I think.”

  “Thanks,” Angela replied, and she continued her pursuit.

  “How long can we keep this up?” Calla asked.

  “Until she starts asking for IDs, I guess,” Nicolette laughed. Her eyes widened and Calla turned to see what she was looking at.

  Daryl was being pulled downstairs by a very pretty… very angry… young blonde woman. “What the heck?” Calla whispered.

  The girl tugged Daryl to a group of women standing ten feet in front of where Calla was sitting. Calla had been ignoring their stares and whispers for two hours, while they presumably conspired to steal Kyle… who was not leaving her side.

  Daryl stopped behind Bridgette while she faced off against the three young women. “Tammy,” she pointed, “you have a beak for a nose with nostrils that a truck could drive through.” She turned, “Patti, those fake boobs are so
stiff I’m surprise you don’t injure people on your frequent trips to the bar.” She turned again, “And Joanne, god, where do I begin? That eyeliner doesn’t make your squinty eyes any bigger… you look like a raccoon. If you use any more bleach on your hair it will fry to the roots… and it doesn’t match your eyebrows, stupid. Now, if you want to stare at some unique, weird creature, there’s a full length mirror in the foyer.”

  The girls were horrified, and checking to see who overheard as they quickly moved away… far away… from the bitch. Bridgett took a deep breath. “God, that felt good.”

  Kyle whispered to Nicolette, “She’s shy?”

  “Except when she’s on a mission,” Nicolette replied. “Bridgett has a rather strange paradox problem. She’s a sadist with a passion for standing up against abusive people.” She smiled at Sloan. “Pretty messed up, huh?” She looked back at Calla. “Apparently, she didn’t like the way your fan club was looking at you.”

  “Nicky, how could you let those girls be so rude?” Bridgett demanded.

  “Nice to see you pried from the bedroom, Bridge. Did you run out of clothespins?”

  “Don’t change the subject. Those girls were mean. They were nasty and cruel. They were…”

  “Beak nosed, fake boobed, raccoon eyed creatures?” Nicolette suggested.

  “Exactly. Who do they think they are?”

  “Angela, two o’clock,” Calla whispered to Nicolette.

  “Where should we send her?” Nicolette asked.

  “Back patio?” Calla shrugged. “There’s gotta’ be a hundred people out there.”

  “Bridgette, this is Calla, and my brothers Sloan, Kyle and Liam,” Daryl introduced. He was still holding her hand and stroking her palm with his thumb.

  “It’s nice to meet you. People can be so unfair. They don’t even try to meet someone, before they…”

  “He’s not in the library,” Angela interrupted. “Are you sure that’s the direction he went? I mean, I guess it would have to be. The only other room down there is the den. Do you think he’s down there? I guess he could be. Usually only the…”

  Bridgette pinched Angela’s lips together with two sharp nails. “Shut up, already. Either that, or get some voice coaching to raise that whine. No, just shut up the moronic chatter. If you’re trying to catch a man, go do it. Quietly,” Bridgette ordered, and she released her grip from the stunned girl’s mouth.

  “I didn’t mean to…”

  “Shut up,” Bridgette warned, and raised her fingers.

  Angela floated away, looking back in confusion a few times.

  “Well, that was subtle with your usual flair, Bridge,” Nicolette laughed. “I was just telling my new friends how shy you were. I’m so glad Daryl convinced you to join the party.”

  “I hate these pretentious Displays,” Bridgette stated. “Daryl and I are going back upstairs until the auction begins.” She grabbed Daryl’s hand and pulled him back towards her room. He looked back at them and grinned.

  “It was nice to meet you,” Calla called to her back. She shrugged to Nicolette. “She got rid of Angela.”

  “I wonder which one Daryl will end up wishing he’d avoided more, though,” Nicolette laughed.

  There was a chime of the clock and people began floating to the many tables arranged on the back patio. Cynthia appeared with Alexander on her arm. “Let’s get seated,” Cynthia said. “Nicolette, I’d love for you to join us.”

  Nicolette smiled, and Sloan wrapped her arm in his, mimicking his father and mother. The twins rose and each took one of Calla’s arms. “We’ll meet you out there. We’re taking the long way. It’s darker and less crowded,” Liam replied. He grabbed Marigold’s leash and she trembled and stood. He whispered, “She’s really not selling you, so calm down.”

  “Where’s Daryl?” Cynthia asked.

  “Upstairs with my sister,” Nicolette answered.

  “Sloan, you and Nicolette go get them. We’ll grab a couple of chairs from Albert’s table,” Cynthia directed.

  Nicolette knocked on the door and there was frantic shuffling. “Just a minute,” Bridgette called out. There was more banging and some laughing.

  “Bridge? Bridgette, the auction’s getting ready to begin,” Nicolette baited. The door finally opened and although the couple looked fine, for the most part, it was obvious they had been interrupted from a ‘deep’ discussion. Nicolette glanced at the girl tied to the post, and her eyes narrowed on a rather erratic placement of pins. This was not her sister’s work.

  “Come on, Daryl. Mother’s getting a few more chairs so that Nicolette and Bridgette can join us,” Sloan said.

  “Um… we have a pretty good view from up here,” Bridgette stammered.

  “Of the patio roof, Bridge,” Nicolette replied. “Besides, you know that we have to get this over with.” She leaned over and whispered, “I’m sure you will have plenty of time to show your new playmate how to align them correctly.”

  Daryl turned to Bridgette and said, “We have a table in the front. Usually, we’re in the middle, but with Calla’s situation, we’ve moved to the side to get out of some of the lights.”

  “Front row?” Bridgette asked. Families earned position by their time in good standing and continuing presentations. She knew that the Venetia’s were an important family, but the fact that they were original founders in their society was a surprise. No wonder Daryl was being chased. “Come on, let’s hurry. They always start with the trashy ones,” she said excitedly. “I can’t wait until next year when I have a few of my own to send up on stage.”

  As she pulled Daryl by, Sloan whispered, “Your shoes are on the wrong feet.”

  “Shit. Bridgette stop, wait a minute.” Daryl slipped the loafers on correctly, and Sloan smiled at the slight embarrassment on his face.

  “I think we have a winner,” Sloan noted, and he squeezed Nicolette’s arm. “Would you like to swing by the bar and grab a Merlot for the auction? I imagine the crowd has thinned out.”

  “That would be wonderful, Sloan.”

  They got to the table and Calla was arguing with Liam. It happened, once in a while, with the moods of her pregnancy. It was obvious that Bridgette was siding with her. Calla said, “This is silly. She’s going to be stuck staring at the table cloth.”

  “She’s a slave, Calla. It’s part of their training,” Liam argued.

  “To stare at a white cloth?”

  “Patience… we teach them patience,” Kyle answered in agreement with his brother.

  “Patience for what? To see if it changes color, or if someone spills something? Whoopee.” Bridgette twirled a finger in the air.

  Nicolette waited while Sloan pulled out her chair, and as she sat down she asked, “Who’s staring at a tablecloth?”

  “Marigold, my servant,” Calla answered. “Even if I sit on the end, the cloth will be in her way.”

  “She doesn’t need to watch, Calla,” Liam repeated.

  “Is she a house servant?” Nicolette persisted.

  “No, more like a personal maid type thing for me. She was very helpful when I was sick recently, and I think her loyalty should be rewarded.” Her eyes narrowed at Liam. “Instead of making her spend hours on her knees staring at a damn white tablecloth.”

  Cynthia nudged Alexander and she nodded towards Nicolette. “Albert confirms that the girls have been out of the country the past year, studying under Master Preston and his sister, Camille. Even the year could not convince them to keep the property, and they’re turning their estate back for sale to the society. Chayton is setting up on his own island, so he’s leaving his share to his sisters. The house was only in the family for four generations, but with their parents both dead, they say the memories are too depressing. They’re announcing the winning bid on the estate tonight.”

  “What are their plans after that?” Alexander asked, and he began studying the two young women. Mistresses would practically give up their first born for a chance to study with Preston and C
amille. Someone must have spoken highly for them… Albert and Chayton, of course.

  “Albert says they asked to stay here until they decide. He says they’ve been searching available estates in the area, because he became practically family through their mother’s illness and they don’t want to move to the island with their brother.”

  Nicolette put a hand on Liam’s, and he silenced from the argument. “It would be beneficial to let the girl see how the auction works, in case she ever needs to go on display. Even if you keep her, it would be a good opportunity for her to see beautifully trained women. It will give her something to aspire to,” Nicolette reasoned.

  Just as Marigold began to relax that she was not being sold, this big discussion about her began between all the Masters and Mistresses. Calla kept brushing her fingers through her hair to calm her.

  “What are people going to say if we let her stand? She’ll be in the way of the people behind us, and… it just isn’t done,” Liam decided. Calla was just being oversensitive again, because of the babies.

  Nicolette sighed, and she looked at Calla. “She’s yours?”

  “Yes, Cynthia gave her to me as a wedding present.”

  “And you want her to learn instead of staring at a sheet?” Nicolette persisted.

  “I… I guess so. I certainly don’t want her stuck looking at the tablecloth. I mean, it’s okay through dinner, because she’s eating too. This just seems stupid.”

  “Fine. Liam, tilt your chair back,” Nicolette said.

  “What?” Liam felt Nicolette begin to jerk the back of his chair.

  Nicolette slipped the end of Marigold’s leash under the chair, and she grabbed the girl’s chin. Marigold almost peed herself. “Lay down on the grass and you can see the stage from under the cloth. Your Mistress is going to quiz you to make sure you paid attention. Do you understand?”

  Marigold gulped, glanced at Calla, and then back at this new woman. “Yyyes, Mistress.” She dove for the grass, avoiding the legs behind her.

  “Calla,” Nicolette said in a low voice. “Just pick out a few things you think she can do… and that she’ll remember… and ask her later.”