Cassandra & Seymour - Anchovies are an acquired taste

Who: Cassandra and Seymour
Where: Fourth Base Hilton Paris suite
When: At around the time the SPASSM rebellion was put down
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"That was lovely." He said. "Is there anything else?"
Cass shook her head. "No. Just those."
"Oh." Said Seymour. "I'll have to eat all these then."
Cass nodded, and waited for him to eat them all.
"Oh how rude of me." He said after scoffing another. "Did you want some?"
</snip>
"We, ah, may be on Fourth Base sir, but forgive me for declining your kind offer. It would be unseemly for a lady in my position to nibble entrée's from the lap of a gentleman with whom I have so little acquaintance"
"Mm. Of course" Seymour chuckled, tossing another couple of canapés into his mouth and chewing enthusiastically "These really are good, though; are you sure I can't tempt you?"
"Thank you sir, but no" Cass replied primly "As major-domo, I'm constantly trying to encourage Her Royal Highness to remember her station; and as such, it would hardly do if I were to forget my own, and begin freely fraternising with her Highness' guests"
"You know" Seymour said, narrowing his eyes appraisingly at Cass as he swallowed another of the pretentious little nibbles "You could be just what Queen Brittany has been missing all these years: A strict, dependable voice of reason to curb her wild excesses..."
Cass smiled, albeit coldly
"I flatter myself to think that with encouragement, our ...beloved monarch will one day exceed everyone's regal expectations"
"Gosh. These nibbles really are terrific" Seymour threw another three into his mouth, his eyes sparking with enthusiasm
"I'm so glad that you're enjoying them Ambassador; do finish them all, I can always arrange to have more sent up"
"I mean, they're really, really good..." Seymour breathed, staring intently at Cass as he began rubbing his hands up and down his thighs
"...Indeed?" Cass raised her eyebrows, looking worriedly at Seymour, and hoping that he was about to pass out; this conversation was beginning to make her feel a little uncomfortable
Seymour stood unsteadily, his cheeks flushed, and brow beaded with sweat
"I ...feel" he muttered vaguely "I feel..."
"Are you unwell, Mr. Niples?" Cass stood, ostensibly to place her hand on Seymour's arm, but ready to catch him should he suddenly collapse; she didn't want his blood everywhere from a gouting head wound
Clenching and unclenching his hands at his side, Seymour closed his eyes and took a deep breath, blowing it out with a throaty growl as he flicked his eyes open again
"My God" he purred "Has anyone told you just how devastatingly attractive you are?"
"What?" Cass snatched her hand from his arm and, worried by Seymour's somewhat manic gaze, began to back away, unsure of what was actually happening here
Seymour took another deep breath, followed by another, and another; his breathing rapidly increasing in tempo and volume, whistling in and out between his teeth as he began rubbing the palms of his hands up and down his thighs again
"I feel..." he began "Oh, my God. You look amazing."
Eyes widening, Cass backed off another step, her hand slipping inside her jacket to curl her fingers around the cold shaft of the gas hypo in her breast pocket; with the charge of heavier duty but slower acting tranquiliser that she had brewed up in the Dwarf's labs, she had hoped to use this to keep Seymour under once he was asleep, but given the way that he was acting, she might well have recourse to using it earlier
"Hmmmmm. Yeah" Seymour panted, hands moving rapidly up and down his thighs, spittle flecking his chin "I feel good!"
"Um..." Cass pulled the hypo out and backed further away, trying to put one of the chairs between herself and the man; she had no idea what had actually happened here, but from the looks of it: Either the dealer had sold her a weird stimulant of some kind, or the drug had reacted in some strange way with the anchovy pâté
Seymour threw his head back to let out a crazed howl in response
"I'm a mad dog on heat!" he bellowed, diving forward and sweeping the chair out the way
"Aw, smegging hell!" Cass turned and ran; closely followed by Seymour who barrelled into her from behind, knocking her to the floor before she had barely managed five paces, his weight bearing down on top of her
"Oh yeah" Seymour grunted in satisfaction, his anchovy scented breath washing over Cass' face as she struggled beneath him "You're my little puppy now"
He began fumbling with his belt buckle with one hand, trying to pull it open
Realising with horror what was probably at the forefront of his drug addled mind, Cass bought a knee smartly up between Seymour's legs, connecting solidly with his balls
"Ooorgh" he grunted, eyes bulging in pain as he rolled off to lie whimpering on the floor next to her
Disentangling herself, and struggling quickly upright, Cass was momentarily tempted to stick the boot in again, but stooped and jabbed the hypo against Seymour's neck instead, firing a couple of doses into him before stumbling back, trying to put some distance between the two of them
"Wurgh" Seymour struggled, panting, up onto all fours, a thin stream of drool trailing from his lips
Cass backed even further away
"Mr. Niples" she began sternly "What in the name of the nine hells are you even thinking!?"
"You struck me" Seymour wheezed, struggling up "I'll teach you to try and hit a love God where it hurts"
"..." Cass pursed her lips at this, choosing not to retort with an antagonistic response
"I've got five whole inches of pure pleasure for you" Seymour yelled, suddenly flying towards her "C'mere!"
With a panicked scream Cass dodged his flailings and tripped him with a trailing foot to send him sprawling onto the floor, before turning and dashing towards one of the bathrooms
Fortunately, Seymour didn't manage catch her before she skidded into the en-suite, only just managing to slam and lock the door behind her, before his weight crashed against the outside of the door
"Let me in you trollop" he screamed, frenziedly banging on the door
Satisfied for the moment that Seymour, even in his drug induced mania, wasn't about to be able to break down the door, Cass pulled her handheld out, and flicked it into call mode; Seymour was probably not too far from unconsciousness now, so it was time to call the bit of hired muscle...
"Minion one" she said to the dialler, trying to ignore the noises outside the door
A muscular, shaven headed man answered after a moment, glowering darkly at her with hungry eyes
"I think you can come up now" she said, ending the call almost immediately
Jerome, the hired help, hadn't been so hard to find; an outcast from the Flesh Pits, and a crystal bliss addict with an addled mind on the usual downward trajectory, he was desperate enough to do anything for enough money for a few fixes, and as such, he was all part of her plan...
The banging noises sounding from outside, slowly resolved themselves into a steady rhythmic thumping, Seymour's gasping breaths just audible through the door; Cass shuddered, trying hard not to dwell too deeply upon what might actually be happening out there, but piped the lounge surveillance camera streams directly through to the handheld's data store, just in case
A dozen or so minutes ticked slowly by, with the thumping slowly decreasing in frequency, before finally stopping with one last heavy thud as Seymour finally hit the floor
"At smegging last" Cass muttered, pulling up the view of the lounge outside on the handheld to verify that Seymour was indeed comatose, before unlocking the door and gingerly peeking out
Seymour was slumped at her feet, lolling against the doorframe with his eyes closed and tongue poking out; Cass stooped to check his pulse, noting with satisfaction that it was still strong, and that his breathing was regular
"Don't worry sweetheart" she murmured "You won't remember a thing about this; Hexo-Pro'Meth smegs your short term memory right up..."
Satisfied that Seymour was safe, Cass strolled into the bedroom to open the shoulder bag she had bought with her, and was just taking out the handcuffs, the lube, the painfully large, antidote laced suppository and the ball gag, when the doorbell rang
'Ah that would be Jerome' she smiled 'Time to get to work...'
Seymour groggily drifted back to consciousness with an almost unbearably throbbing head some seven or eight hours later.
He was surprised to find himself alone in a finely appointed, but unfamiliar, dimly lit bedroom, laid naked in bed with his clothes neatly folded and arrayed over the back of a nearby chair, with absolutely no recollection of how on earth he had got there
The last thing he remembered for certain was taking lunch at a fine little bistro on the new Promenade, so how had he got here, and where on earth was he?
Grimacing at the vile taste in his mouth, Seymour sat up to look for the nice decanter of mineral water that he expected to be beside the bed
"Owww" he moaned rolling immediately over onto his side, clutching his painfully stinging arse
What in the name of Hades had happened to him?
Was this one of those scenarios that he had heard about where someone was buggered senseless, and then their kidneys harvested by a squad of black market organ perverts?
Panicking a little, he frantically glanced over at the pillow next to him, looking for a note telling him he was a short of a couple of kidneys, and to call the emergency services, but was relieved to find nothing of the sort, and so struggled gingerly upright wincing at his stinging ring
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Seymour - You've woken up with a sore arse and a funny taste in your mouth. What do you do?
PS: Sorry - please don't hate me for it :)
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