A Pleasure to Serve

Part II: Eva

Valerie was acting strange. And Eva didn't like it.

She had expected one of two greetings in the breakfast parlor that morning. If Valerie welcomed her with a tirade of contempt, then that would mean the eldest Harroway's plans had failed, and Poe's status as heir apparent remained. Conversely, if her trap had been a success, Valerie would likely preen and cluck like a mother hen, proud of the latest scheme she'd hatched.

Yet neither vision awaited Eva at the sunlit table.

Instead, the middle sibling found Valerie staring at the billowing curtains, a distant, dreamy smile resting on her lips. She was still in her nightgown, the sheer fabric almost see-through in the morning light, clinging to her bust and hips in a way that left little to the imagination. It was a strange choice for a woman rarely seen unembellished; stranger still was how long it took for her recognize Eva's arrival. And even then, Valerie's dopey, contented expression didn't waver in the slightest. If anything, her smile only grew as her younger sister settled at the table.

"Good morning, Eva," the eldest Harroway said. "You slept well, I hope?"

"Fine," Eva replied, anticipating a follow-up barb as she moved to serve herself.

Instead, Valerie rose from her seat with a concerned look, reaching over and intercepting Eva's plate. "Here, let me," the older sister offered. "You're fond of the roast sausages, correct?"

"Uh, sure." Eva squinted. "What's going on? What are you doing?"

"I'm serving you breakfast," Valerie answered innocently. "Would you prefer to get it yourself?"

"No. I mean, yes. I mean...are you feeling alright?"

"I feel excellent. Why?"

"Why? Because, you, uh..." Eva turned to Theresa for support. "You see what I'm talking about, don't you?"

The youngest sister looked at her hands. "I think it's nice."

"Nice? It's creepy is what it is."

"W-well everyone grieves in their own way. And if it ends up bringing us all closer together as, um, as sisters then..."

"I don't buy it." Eva shot a glare at the puzzled, barely-dressed woman beside her. "This is a part of your plan isn't it?"

Valerie titled her head. "What plan?"

"The one you talked about yesterday! The one with..." Eva glanced at the closed double doors, then lowered her voice. "The one with the butler? Remember?"

"Oh. That." A glimmer of the old spark returned to the Valerie's eyes. "Don't worry. It went very well. Master Poe is a wise, considerate man. I think you will all be pleased with the arrangement we reached."

Eva opened her mouth to press for details, only to think better of it. Given Valerie's behavior and use of Poe's new title, something truly rotten must've occurred overnight. Whatever the specifics, Eva couldn't trust her sister to divulge them now. More than likely, the eldest Harroway had intimidated the butler with some obscure legal threat, and won a concession beyond even her most optimistic calculations. That would explain why the dark-haired vixen was behaving so smugly. To gloat about her victory would be insult enough, but to treat the other sisters as if they weren't even competition was...

The gears in Eva's head turned as she stared out the parlor window. The morning mist was rising, and despite autumn's early sunsets, there was still time for the middle sister to make her move. She would've liked more time to prepare, but then again, intricate plans were Valerie's domain. Eva preferred much more direct means of negotiation. That was how the truly powerful won.

"I'm going hunting," she announced, abruptly rising from her seat. "See you all tonight."

"You're leaving already?" Theresa protested. "Can't we just share breakfast like real sisters for once? You've barely even eaten."

"I know." Eva scowled. "That's why I'm leaving now. I need to find Poe so he can make my field rations. Oh, and he'll be joining me as my assistant. I assume none of you object?"

The youngest, of course, looked away with a shake of her poppy red pigtails. But Eva held Valerie's gaze, daring her to recognize the threat, to conjure some objection and thus acknowledge the game they were both playing.

Instead, Valerie simply toasted the departure with her teacup. "Happy hunting," she said with a smile.

___________________________________

The hunt

was

where Eva was happiest.

Whatever her quarry, there was something so satisfyingly primal about the pursuit, a bracing simplicity that sewing circles and tea-times lacked. It was so hard to breathe in those drawing rooms, sucking in air choked with inane gossip and innuendos. But out in the woods, under a sharp blue sky and a tapestry of ochre branches, Eva could outrun the pollution of high society, could fill her lungs with exuberant breath and her heart with joyous bloodlust. Never gladder was she than with a tinge of pink in her cheeks and the cries of fleeing birds in her ears. Well, except in the moments when a shot would seem to crackle through her entire body, and she would know even before her quarry fell that her aim had been true. At those times, she often thought of the stories Mother used to tell her, about the beast that lurked between the black trunks, eager to gobble up little girls who strayed from the safety of homemaking. Of course, these warnings had been a transparent ploy, a futile attempt to curb Eva's tomboyish tendencies. She never truly believed such ridiculous stories, but there was a part of her that thrilled at the vague danger they imparted, a pinch of fear to sweeten the kill. With every creature slaughtered, she would think: "Truly, there is no more cunning predator than I."

And now it was Poe's turn to learn that.

He was doing an admirable job keeping up, Eva had to admit. Most hunting companions struggled with her unforgiving pace, but Poe seemed as at home dancing around roots as he was dusting chandeliers. Perhaps he'd once been a wild child himself, before he let the manor and Mother swallow him up. Or perhaps Eva's clothing was just slowing her down more than she thought.

The outfit had been a snap decision, a hedge against the power of Valerie's influence. Ordinarily, the middle sister preferred the practicality of pants, even if they scandalized some of her more sensitive acquaintances. But today, she wasn't hunting to kill; she was hunting to capture, to lure and seduce and collar her prey. As such, she'd replaced her usual getup with a tight skirt from the back of her closet, a constrictive piece that did more for the shape of her ass than its ease of movement. Similarly, her choice of blouse left little fabric unfilled, and she doubted she could close the top buttons even if she wanted to. When paired with her jacket, the outfit packed her breasts so tight and taut that the slightest movement sent ripples through their expansive softness. It was hardly comfortable but, catching Poe's wandering eye, she was proud of her ability to entice.

"Shall we rest a moment?" Eva suggested, stepping into clearing with a single weathered stump at its center.

"As you wish," Poe nodded, producing one of the many canteens from his bag. "Perhaps my lady would like some refreshments?"

"Please." Eva swiped the bottle and took a greedy gulp. The drink was a favorite of hers, a vibrant blend of fruit juice and herbs that never failed to rejuvenate her body and sharpen her senses. Yet something seemed...different about today's mixture. No matter how often she slaked her thirst, Eva found herself craving more moments later. Perhaps she was more nervous than she wanted to admit. Her tongue did tend to dry up in moments of stress.

There was no need to worry, she reminded herself. She had the butler right where she wanted him. Her mother may have favored him, but Mother Nature was on Eva's side.

"Haah!" the middle Harroway exhaled as the last, cool drops slid down her throat. "Thank you Poe. That was just what I needed."

"I'm glad to hear it." The butler bowed and retrieved the canteen. "Is there anything else my lady requires?"

"As a matter of fact, there is." Eva reached into her jacket pocket, withdrawing a folded sheet of paper and a fountain pen. "Take a seat at that stump and look this over for me, would you?"

Poe hesitated a moment, but then he did as he was told. Eva wasn't surprised: even if he suspected something was amiss, there was no way he would make a move to defy her. It wasn't in his nature. The poor man simply wasn't cut out to match Eva's will and cunning, no more than a mouse could contend with a cat.

The butler's eyes scanned the page for only a moment before meeting hers. "I'm not sure I understand."

Eva snorted. She'd told Mr. Lilton to write simple enough for a servant, but apparently even that was above Poe's grasp. "It's a contract. One that corrects that sham of a will."

"And transfers the entire estate to you, it would seem." Poe arched a dark eyebrow. "Were I to sign my approval, of course."

"Yes, well." Eva hefted her shotgun, leveling it at the butler's chest. "I have a hunch you will."

Poe blinked, an uneasy smile cracking his lips. "My lady...you're pulling my leg."

Eva's aim remained steady. "Valerie may play games, but I don't have the patience. Now: your signature. Quickly, if you please."

The butler's smile dropped, the reality of the situation appearing to sink in. "I understand the will came as a shock, but this...this is hardly necessary. I assure you, I never intended to keep your mother's fortune for myself. In fact, it was my understanding that--"

"You're wasting your breath. I know you met with my sister. Don't bother denying it. The pair of you probably carved out a neat little arrangement for yourselves, one that leaves the rest of us high and dry. So really, you left me no choice."

"B-but you can't just...what I mean to say is, my death will only cause more trouble for you. Surely, you must see that."

"Oh, Poe," Eva laughed. "Nobody will care about a lonely servant dying in a hunting accident. Valerie might get angry, but not enough to risk an investigation and scandal. In fact, with you out of the picture, the inheritance reenters litigation, and she stands a better chance of profiting from that than any sort of murder case."

A bead of sweat trickled down the servant's sharp jaw. His gaze darted up towards the sun for a moment. Saying a prayer? Gauging the time? It was impossible to say for sure, but one thing was clear: Eva had him cornered.

It was...delicious.

A tingling warmth blossomed across her chest and wriggled between her thighs. She shifted, temporarily off-balance, as bubbles of giddiness popped in her head. What was this feeling overtaking her? She'd enjoyed the high of the hunt plenty of times before, but this was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. She understood, suddenly, why cats often toyed with their food. The sensation of absolute power was...exhilarating. Intoxicating. And perhaps...more than a little arousing.

"Don't worry," she purred, savoring the butler's desperation. "You'll be safe as long as you do what you're told. I'll protect you from my sisters, and even let you stay at the manor with me. In fact, I think I'll give you a promotion. That body of yours is wasted dusting cabinets and pruning hedges. So instead...how about I make you my personal pet?" She moved the gun under his chin, lifting his gaze to meet hers. "You would like that, wouldn't you Poe?"

A red flash lit his pupils for a moment. Eva cackled, concealing the chill it sent through her.

"There's no use getting upset," she sneered. "This is merely the natural order of things. The strong were meant to dominate the weak. It's the way a species thrives. To pretend otherwise isn't just foolish--it's perverse."

"A subject you're well acquainted with, my lady?"

Whack!

The gun butt whipped into his cheek before even Eva had realized it. He sprawled into the dirt, groaning in pain as his mistress blinked back shock. She'd never lost her temper so quickly before. But her thoughts were feeling...looser than normal, as though the heat of the moment had melted their foundations, leaving them to slip and slide at the slightest suggestion.

Grappling for control, Eva aimed the gun again. "Enough talk," she growled. "I'm going to count to ten. And then either your signature or your blood will end up on that page. Ready? One. Two."

That did the trick. No sooner had the second count passed than Poe scrambled to recover the paper and pen. Eva was secretly relieved. The shotgun was becoming...strangely heavy all of a sudden. The barrel wavered and her hips squirmed, another wave of odd excitement stroking her sex. The sight of Poe on his knees, signing his wealth over to her...it was a more welcome sight than she'd anticipated. She licked her lips. Traces of dried sugar tickled her tongue.

Poe finished signing with an angry flourish. "There." He glowered over his shoulder. "Would you please stop pointing that at me now? You've already gotten what you wanted."

Eva's eyelid twitched. Had she? Had she really gotten everything she desired? Certainly, the inheritance was now hers but...something inside her still wasn't satisfied. There was a different hunger now, a yawning yearning between her legs that a simple signature could never sate. And even as some piece of her marked this mood as odd, her racing heart and tingling skin were too demanding to ignore.

"My lady?" Poe prompted.

Eva blinked. How long had she been staring? It was hard to say. But she knew what she would do next. "We're not done here." She gestured with her weapon. "Stand up, Poe. And strip for me. Now."

Again, that angry red flared behind his eyes. Again, Eva felt a shiver beneath her skirt. Why was that look affecting her so much? And why was it so...captivating? The ember of crimson she'd glimpsed seemed to smolder in his gaze, pulling her in. There was something frightening about it, yet alluring all the same. So much so, that it wasn't until he bent to drop his pants that Eva realized he was nearly naked.

"G-good," she uttered, cursing her unsteady breath. "Keep going. All the way."

Poe hesitated a moment, then slid his undergarments down as well. He straightened, shifting to face her. Eva swallowed, her throat inexplicably dry. She'd expected him to cower, or at least cover himself from her gaze. But the butler stood unashamed before her, his nakedness open to her appraisal. She drank in the sight with desperate thirst, her eyes never settling for more than a moment. They roamed over his lean hills of tanned muscle, through the tufts of dark, curled hair on his chest, before following the trail down to the sizable cock hanging between his legs. It was all hers, Eva realized. The aching inside her longed to touch him, to run her hands down his back and fix her teeth on his neck. Yet as she beheld his face once again, she found she was unable to move. Those glowing sparks in his eyes had become a dancing inferno, and she was paralyzed by their radiance.

"Do you like what you see?" he asked.

"Do I...uh..." Eva's mouth hung open as her voice failed. She wasn't sure how to answer the question. She wasn't even sure what she was seeing anymore. The heat from Poe's eyes seemed to ripple and distort the world around her. His sculpted form grew, shifting and stretching until it towered in her vision. He took a step closer, his soft footfall like thunder in her ears.

"St-stay back!" Eva cried, struggling to ready her gun. Her hands shook, her normally deft touch rendered clumsy by the chaos in her veins. The instincts she'd always relied on were useless, scrambled and confused by the red-eyed titan approaching her. Fight, flight, surrender...all options felt equally valid and yet equally futile.

"Relax, Eva," Poe's voice rumbled in her head. "There's no need to be scared. This is what you wanted."

"What I...wanted?" she repeated. It seemed hard to believe but...as he drew near, his scent graced her nostrils, and the desire within her bloomed anew. She looked up. Had he always been so tall? Had she always had to crane her neck to see his face? He'd seemed so fragile only moments ago, and yet up close, his very being filled her senses. His rustic musk captured her breath, his dazzling eyes eclipsed her vision. The tip of his cock brushed her leg. He was hard, stiff and straight, his tempting heat pulsing through her skirt. Without knowing why, Eva moved her fingers along the shaft. It tensed against her touch, and her pussy quivered in harmony.

"There we go," Poe cooed, one hand resting on her head while the other loosened the shotgun from her grasp. "We don't need this anymore, do we?"

"Nnn....haa...." Eva knew she should resist, but all she could manage was to weakly curl her fingers as the weapon fell to the ground. Poe rubbed her head with an affectionate murmur, his powerful hand massaging her softened thoughts into sludge. She tried to think. Tried to fight. But it felt too good to yield to his touch, to let him move her free hand to join its companion on his cock. Both sets of fingers stroked him, unsure of what else to do. She felt so weak and wet and small, and he felt so powerful and solid and big. It was only natural that she should appease his strength, however her trembling body could.

"Easy, girl," he grunted, covering her wrists with one mighty palm. "Let's not get too eager."

Something in his tone irked Eva. She opened her mouth to say something, then forgot when his fingers clasped her jaw. He rested his thumb on her tongue, and she closed her lips, her head buzzing too loudly to think. She sucked him, without meaning to at first, then with a low, needy moan of delight. He was warm. And sweet. And so enthralling, she hadn't even noticed his cock slipping from her hands.

"There we go, open wide." He tugged her chin down, her mouth popping open with a gasp. "Stay right there like that. I'll be back in a moment."

Eva remained still, gaping at nothing. Not because Poe had told her to, but because she was in too much of a fog to do anything else. As the butler moved over to his bag, an uneasy awareness began to seep through the pink haze. Something wasn't right. She'd wanted to fuck him. That was why she'd ordered him to disrobe. Yet even as he yielded to her desires it...somehow didn't feel like that. The way he spoke to her, the way he moved her body and commanded her attention--that wasn't how cornered prey behaved. And that...was wrong, wasn't it? She was the dominant species here, not him. So then why did she feel so...so...

"There we are." Poe was beside her again. "Apologies for making you wait. I bet you're very thirsty right now, aren't you?"

"Haaa..." Eva sighed. The thoughts that had begun to coalesce dispersed, their thin forms no match for the weight of Poe's voice. Its pressure shaped her senses, pushing and morphing her reality with every word. She was thirsty. Very thirsty. Her parched tongue lolled and begged for relief.

"That's right. Nice and open," Poe cooed, producing a small black vial over her mouth. "One more shot for good measure, and everything will be just fine."

The tiniest crease formed on Eva's brow. Shot? What was he...?

A dollop of unctuous syrup coated her tongue. Eva recoiled, but Poe's hands clamped her jaw shut, holding her head in place and preventing her from spitting. The taste was oppressive, as though the flavors from her hunting drink had been honed to an unbearable sharpness. She struggled not to swallow. But as saliva pooled in her mouth, the horrible poison slid down her throat, tickling it drop by drop, until at last she swallowed the remaining liquid with one shuddering gulp.

"There." Poe exhaled with a dark grin. "Good girl. Now..." His grip loosened.

And that was Eva's chance.