For the briefest of moments, Delilah had second thoughts.

She was considering all manner of terrible actions. Things that could get her arrested or worse—taken away from the Cock. She tried to go for a walk outside to clear her head.

Her heels clicked against the hard marble of the office and then resounded pleasantly on the concrete outside.

In the fresh air, away from the heavy musk of the office, always filled with so many pleasant and escalating smells—Cock, Cunt, Milk, Cum—her head began to clear. She decided she would go to her car and go to the lingerie shop. Nothing would make her feel better than knowing she could look good in a pair of skimpy, barely-there underwear—and, to make it all even better, she could shame the other clerks for not looking as hot as her or recruit one of them for Master's Cock.

Then, she would suck Daddy’s Cock all night long and beg him to make her his wife.

He wouldn’t go back on his word; he was too much of a man for that. So, if she could just convince him that way…then she didn’t need to do the insane thing that was brewing in her head.

“Oh, ma’am?”

The voice was clearly Helena’s. Delilah hadn’t heard it yet, but no other woman could produce a voice that simultaneously clear, sexy, sultry, and vulnerable like she had. There was an accent to it, something exotic and European that automatically made Delilah's blood boil with desire.

Delilah turned to see—as she suspected—Helena approaching her.

“Hi. I’m Helena Paolo.”

She held out a hand. Delilah practiced all her available willpower and simply looked at it. A beautiful woman making an offer like that really was hard to resist; Delilah had some impression of the effect she herself must have had on other people for the first time in a long time.

“I know who you are.”

Helena slowly put her hand down. She even made that look graceful, like she had never intended to have it out to begin with.

“Miles Abram…he’s your boss, is that right?”

“That’s right.”

Helena bit her lower lip. “He’s really…something. Isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“He’s like…I’ve never met a man like that.”

“No.” Delilah crossed her arms. “You haven’t.”

“Is he attached?”

Delilah took a second to answer, and then Helena filled that hesitation.

“No. No, of course not. A man like that? Even if he’s fucking someone…it’s not exclusive. He’s fucking whoever he wants, huh? He’s probably fucking you.” Helena seemed to see her for the first time. “God. Oh, yeah. He is fucking you, isn’t he? Wow. How could he not? You’re hot. Is he good?”

Try as she might, Delilah couldn't scowl. Helena was just too fucking pretty, and Delilah was ingrained to treat all pretty little things like they belonged to Master already—which was probably true in this case.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Helena's look said that she very much could believe her. That she wanted to believe her.

Delilah got the distinct impression that Helena was testing her—finding out if she were friend or foe. That this was a woman who was used to other women being catty to her because of the way she looked. That she valued loyalty and consistency above all else. And Delilah, if she were to make an enemy now, was going to make one for life.

She could also make an ally—similarly for life. But Delilah knew if she did that, if she let Helena in, then that would mean letting Helena take control. Already—smelling Miles’s musk on the exotic beauty—Delilah wanted to lick her. Touch her. Finger her and even beg her to lick Delilah’s pussy.

Helena continued. “I can…is it okay to tell you?”

No! No No No! You fucking bitch!

“Yes.” Delilah smiled her best charming smile. “Of course.”

“I can feel him still. Like…against my skull. I can like…I can almost feel his Cock…like it’s fucking the folds of my brain.” She licked her lips, a flush creeping down her gorgeous pale white neck. “That sounds like a little fucked up, I know. But I just can’t…shake it. It only feels like it’s getting stronger. Like time-release heroin or something.”

It would have been easy to hug Helena. To bring her in. To make her drink Delilah's hot titty-milk and rap with her about the glories of serving Miles's amazing Cock.

Instead, Delilah sneered. “It sounds like you’ve got a lot to think about.”

Delilah began to walk away.

Helena tried to hurry after her, but Delilah rushed into her car. She thought she heard a plea in Helena’s voice.

“Talking about it just makes it hotter,” she said.

Delilah got in her car.

“Don’t you feel it too?”

Buckled her seat belt. Turned the key; the car roared to life.

“Tell me you feel it too!”

Zooming out of the parking lot, Delilah smacked hard against a curb.

The scariest thing about Helena was how lived-in her luxury felt; the way her aura screamed her privilege. Like she was born in it—which she very probably was.

When Delilah was transformed, she had been incredibly pretty. Then she became spectacular—and that was, she suspected, only because she had embraced the change.

But Helena? Helena was already spectacularly gorgeous. The only area at all where Delilah had her beat was tit-size, and Delilah suspected heavily that would change the longer Miles’s influence worked on her.

The episode only strengthened Delilah’s resolve. Prison be damned, she had to risk it.

For the love of her Master, she had to kidnap and mindfuck his old girlfriend.