Sienna
The Great Dining Hall was a sea of skin. Hundreds of naked bodies moved under the glow of floating candles.
The smell of roasted meat mixed with the heavy, sweet scent of wine and s*x. There were no chairs at the long oak tables. I felt small and exposed as Dan led me toward the front of the room. Every eye was on the new girl.
At the head of the room, a man sat on a raised platform, his name written on the table.
Dean William.
He looked down at me with those same cold, stone-like eyes. Then he raised a hand, and the room went silent.
“Tonight,” the Dean’s voice boomed, “our dinner comes with a special presentation. Sienna Delore. Step forward.”
My legs felt like jelly. I walked to the center table, the rough wood cold against my bare thighs.
“Lie down,” the Dean commanded.
