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The maid begging for mercy and receiving none. Dor__e commanding the girl to hold the full kettle over the fire until it boiled afresh. The girl's arms shaking as she tried to hold the kettle out, to keep the steam from burning her.

A nighttime scene: Dor__e bound hand and foot to a bed, her body brushed with ostrich feathers until she cried from laughter. An agonizing softness that turned joy into desperation to escape. The jeering of the cruel young ladies who wouldn't let her go.

Day: Sitting in her room, commanding one of the maids to bring her tea. Staring at herself in the parallel mirrors that reflected her to infinity, more beautiful and powerful than she ever knew herself to be.

Night: Lying below a man who masturbated himself to climax, spilling his seed onto her face and breasts. The taste of him. A mirror above showing her to herself in degradation, the accessory to his carnal sin. Her body flowing with unabated desire despite her disgust at all that was done to her.

Day: Looking into Juliet's face as she demanded the key and knowing suddenly that she could command the Companion with the newfound steel in her voice if she so chose.

Night: Looking into the Guard's face as he commanded her to follow and knowing that she had no chance of escape that night, nor any night, for as long as the Duc desired.

By the seventh day, Dor__e was almost fevered with desire. Beneath the chastity belt, her flesh was slick and aching. Her mind vacillated wildly between praying for night to fall and grabbing at the sky to hold back the sun. Her faith began to slip: her faith in the doctrine of "like cures like," in the Duc's sanity, in a God who would allow her to be so thoroughly despoiled.

On the seventh evening, however, she was not summoned by a Guard. She was instead summoned by a Herald bearing a scroll on fine parchment, accompanied by a Page-boy dressed in ceremonial velvets.

"Dor__e, the Golden Girl, Head Chambermaid of the South Wing at Charenton Chateau." The Herald addressed her in a fine, loud voice. "The Duc commands your presence at a F__te to be held in honour of Midsummer's Eve. He sends you this and bids you use it before appearing in his presence."

The Page produced an object from his velvet tunic and placed it into Dor__e's hand. It was a key tied with a bow of sheer gold satin. Not a small key like the one she used to open the portal each day. A large key. One that would unlock the chastity belt entirely.

"You are to be the Centrepiece at the banquet, so adorn yourself appropriately."

Doree's hands shook under the weight of the key.

"But how -I should say, what, what is this Midsummer's Eve f__te? Is it like the Feast of the Fall?"

The Page piped up enthusiastically.

"O, it is much more intimate, Miss! Only the most honoured Guests! And they all-"

Here the Herald tried to elbow the blond boy into silence while still maintaining a dignified bearing. The Page dodged easily, dancing away.

"See that you are ready by the quarter of the hour. The Guard will arrive to lead you to the Hall. And it's a thrashing for you, boy!"

The Page-boy ran off, leaving the Herald to strut hastily after him.

Back in her room, Dor__e untied the bow that wrapped the shaft of the key.

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