Chapter One -- Mary
Ivan tried to hide how impressed he was as the butler led him through the mansion's grand hall, lined with marble columns that must have been twenty feet high. A large circular fountain dominated the room, from which sprang a statue of a naked Medusa, one arm stretched in a beckoning gesture towards the front doors, and the other sliding down between her legs, whether in a feeble gesture of modesty or lewd self-pleasure, Ivan wasn't certain. Her snakes-for-hair flailed wildly from her scalp in all directions, and her lips were parted in what was either a grin or a hiss.
He followed the butler past the statue and around several corners, passing a series of rooms before finally being ushered into a room on the left, which was filled by a large oak table surrounded by ten chairs.
"Please make yourself comfortable, sir. The master will be along presently."
Ivan nodded stiffly in agreement, touching the back of a chair as if about to sit, and the butler turned and left, his footsteps padding down the hall. Ivan turned from the chair and examined the paintings that adorned the walls. The nearest painting depicted a young woman scrambling to escape a half dozen impish demons, who pawed and scraped at her, ripping the clothing from her body, their eyes and tongues clearly eager to taste her flesh. Another featured a naked woman bound in a public pillory, while a man in what might have been judge's robes was fucking her from behind. Another man was shoving his cock into her mouth while a group of townsfolk cheered and jeered at the spectacle. Each of the room's paintings depicted some similar scene, of a woman being raped or about to be raped by men, beasts, or creatures of one kind or another.
Ivan was admiring a painting of two women bound to carts being forced at whip-point to run a chariot race when a voice suddenly interrupted his artistic reverie.
"Ah, I see you're admiring the art," said a voice dripping with some Caribbean accent Ivan was not familiar with.
"It's quite...interesting," Ivan said, his polite grin masking his genuine fascination with the subject matter. He turned to see Samuel Dillon, whom he knew only by reputation, standing in the doorway. His employers were quite familiar with Samuel, him being one of their highest spending customers. Having seen the furnishings with which he populated his home, Ivan was hardly surprised.
"Tell me, do your employers know you're here?" Samuel wore an expensive looking black suit, and his bald head was framed on either side by salt-and-pepper mutton chops.
"I thought it best not to share that with them."
"Good choice," Samuel replied, his broad lips slowly expanding into a wide, toothy grin. His teeth were magnificently bright next to his dark skin, and though his face seemed suited to smiling, there was something off-putting about his eyes, something Ivan could not quite put his finger on.
"So, why did you invite me here?" Ivan asked. He'd already guessed that Mr. Dillon had wanted to recruit him to his own drug manufacturing operation. A man with Dillon's kind of wealth and ego would only be content working with an organization like the one that employed Ivan for so long.
"I have a proposal that might be of interest to you. I--"
"If you're trying to recruit me, let me stop you right now. The Niners treat me very nicely. I have no interest in crossing them."
"Mr. Vascos, you misunderstand me," Samuel said, planting his hand across his chest and affecting a wounded look. "I have no intention of stealing you away from your employer, nor do I wish to strain my own relationship with them."
He walked over and placed his hands firmly at the top of a chair back, as if he were grasping a man by the shoulders. "Think of this more as an extracurricular interest. Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing to the chair nearest to Ivan.
Pulling out the chair he held, Samuel had a seat himself. "You see, I inherited all of this wealth from my grandfather several years ago," he said, extending his arm in a grand sweeping gesture as if to encompass the entire mansion. "Not just the mansion, you see, but the entire island."
Ivan's eyebrows raised at this. Fool's Errand wasn't an overly large island, but to own the entire thing was impressive.
Samuel pressed a button on a small white box on the table. "Mary, would you bring us some tea, please?" he asked into a speaker.
"Recently, among my departed grandfather's effects, I found a rather interesting substance," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small vial full of pale brown powder, holding it up between thumb and forefinger a foot in front of his eye.
"You see, my grandfather was said to be a practitioner of voodoo," he said, smiling suddenly at Ivan's souring expression. "Now, I know what you're thinking, but please, hear me out."
Ivan's skeptical eyebrow lowered back to a neutral position.
"This powder," Samuel said, shaking the vial slightly, "can induce someone into a highly suggestible state. This, among other things, is part of what the whole legend of the zombie comes from."
"You mean like 'The Walking Dead'?" Ivan scoffed.
"Eh, not quite." Samuel's head teetered back and forth. "Something between that and an obedient slave. Zombies were often made to think they were dead and used for labor. I see...other potential applications."
The door to the room opened, and a maid walked in carrying a serving tray, upon which were two teacups with saucers, and a small kettle still steaming from the spout. Ivan watched her as she set the teacups in front of the two men. She was a lovely girl, a bit thin, with dark chocolate skin and the kind of haggard, worried expression that suggested how desperately she needed to keep this job. She wore a French maid's outfit--nothing outlandishly sexy, but with a blouse cut to show just the barest hint of cleavage, and dark stockings and black heels, probably as sexy as her employer thought he could get away with.
"Will that be all, sir?" she asked in a quiet, melodic voice after arranging the tea settings.
"Not...quite. My dear Mary, would you tell me what this smells like?" he asked, opening the vial and holding it up to her nose.
Mary took a quick sniff and immediately drew away from the vial. Clearly uncomfortable, she said "I'm afraid I don't know, sir."
"Are you certain?" Samuel asked. "Please try again. Take a deep, strong whiff."
She leaned over the vial again, nearly placing her nostril on it. As she took a strong sniff of the air inside, Samuel pressed the vial up until it was touching her nostril, causing her to accidentally snort some of the brown powder into her nose.
"Oh..." she gasped softly as the power went into her. She stepped away from the table and turned slightly, as if readying herself to leave, when suddenly her momentum ceased. She just stood there swaying softly, arms now dangling loosely by her sides.
Samuel spared a quick glance at Ivan to confirm he was hooked. Then, turning his predator's gaze back to Mary, he asked "How do you feel, my dear?" pressing his mouth almost to her ear.
"I...I don't...I..." she stammered softly, apparently unable to articulate an answer to the question.
"Why don't you take your blouse off?" he asked her softly.
"Nuh---nuh...n--no," she got out with some effort.
"You see the effect it's had on her already," he said, glancing over at Ivan, who nodded and leaned forward, now quite interested. "As I said, suggestible, docile, but still a bit resistant.
"However, if I
