I knew I was stared at, but I only watched Lady Dunn, so I did not see the stares. We entered the building, a large home, not unlike the lady's but not similar, either. There were people in the foyer, vampires all of them, and the conversation stopped as we entered.
Lady Dunn collected a wine glass immediately, filled with blood, sipped from it, then turned to me and said, "Hold this. Do not spill a single drop, slave!"
"No, m'lady," I said, taking it from her.
She ignored the vampires in the foyer, and I decided they must be lesser creatures, below her notice. We turned left, and again the room stilled. She tugged me to my knees, and I offered the glass in supplication. She took it, drank, returned it to my hands, then she tugged me forward, and I stood, following behind her.
That set the tone for the night. I followed. I knelt. I held her glass. She didn't speak to me, and if anyone else did, I did not notice, and she did not draw my attention to it.
Here and there, hands touched me, sometimes innocently, typically less so. The lady may have noticed, but she gave no notice, even when I gasped as my nipples were tugged.
I focused on her, tightly focused on her, and anyone watching would have seen my rapt attention. She need offer only the smallest of gestures, and I presented her blood to her. She need only gesture, and I knelt or I stood or I bent down and kissed her feet.
But she tugged on the chain, anyway. Because, of course, I was her blood slave, and it pleased her to do so.
My feet learned agony, and tears began to escape my eyes as we walked. That she noticed, and she laughed cruelly, drawing attention to my tears.
And when I could take it no more, I knelt to her without her demand, and I kissed her feet, and I said loudly enough for her to hear, "I am your blood slave, your property. I belong to you, and my body and my blood and my life exist for your pleasure."
She was seated at the time, and she tugged me to her, tugged me fiercely, then turned me over and buried her fangs into my neck.
She didn't give pleasure, but instead, she gave relief. Not much, but enough. And then her fangs withdrew, and she bathed the wound, but still she sucked at me. Someone watching would not know the wound was closed.
Finally she pushed me away and laughed, but I curled into a ball, my head in her lap, drained, and I slept.
I didn't wake for some time. I didn't wake until I found myself in her arms, being settled into the limousine. She climbed in after me and pulled me to her. I curled around her, murmuring and weak.
She withdrew her phone, placing a call. "We're on our way home," she said. "Meet us there."
I didn't notice the drive. I didn't notice that she removed my shoes. We arrived at home, and she pulled me from the car, picking me up, my shoes dangling from her hand. Edie met us at the door.
"If you're going to keep doing this," she said, "I need to teach you how to handle it."
"No," Lady Dunn said. "You will come yourself."
"Someone here should know, unless you are ordering me to remain here until she is gone. It would raise questions if I fly here every time you drink from your slave."
Lady Dunn carried me upstairs, the two of them arguing. She laid me on the bed and turned to the other woman.
"Fine!" she said. "Fine. But we're not practicing on her."
"You would poke needles into someone else?" I asked. "I am your blood slave, Lady Dunn. This is my place."
"You've destroyed her you know," Edie said, "and you've only had her less than four months. You should finish her now. It would be mercy."
"No!" Lady Dunn screamed, advancing on Edie, looming over her. The woman stood her ground, not backing down, but I thought I saw a moment of fear cross her face.
"I'm going to sleep now," I said softly. "If I don't wake up, I'll know Edie won."
And then I slept.
Months Into Years
I survived.
It took me three months, but I earned the paints. I had lost all track of days and dates, but winter had arrived, and with it the first snows. Lady Dunn provided warmer clothing for our walks outside, although I remained virtually naked for our social visits. I knew nothing about anything that happened outside her property, except when she took me to this event or that.
But I survived, and when she came to me for racquetball, I smiled.
"May I see?" she asked, nodding to the drawing I was working on.
I looked at it. "It is almost done."
"You have said that before, and it is three hours."
"Tell me something you want, freely given."
"A kiss."
I stared for a moment. "A kiss on the cheek?"
"No. You know what kind of kiss."
I smiled. "All right. If I win, I want a glass of wine with dinner."
"What are we wagering?"
"Fifteen minutes, and the drawing is done."
She laughed. "All right. Go."
I bent my head to the drawing. It was actually the third in a set, done from memory from my first beating.
There had been other beatings. Not often.
The first drawing was of me, bent over the vaulting horse, clutching at it, lines across my back, and there was a hand, a clawed hand, wielding a whip in the foreground. The second was of me, still leaning over the horse, drawn from the side, and the lady licking my back, blood collecting on her tongue. The third, the one I was finishing, was of me in bed, an I.V. in my arm, as Lady Dunn leaned over me, her fangs extended and about to pierce my neck.
"Time," she said.
I looked up and smiled. "Do you have wine?"
"Yes."
"Good. There are three. I would like you to close your eyes."
She did, which surprised me. I withdrew all three from the pad, and I arranged them on the bed, far enough apart she would need to move from one to the other to fully appreciate them. I crossed to where she stood in the doorway, her eyes still closed, and took her hands.
"Come," I said.
I moved her into position over the first one and said, "You must move between them. Do not disturb them until you have looked at each one. Open your eyes."
I was watching, and I saw the look of fascination as she stared at it.
"I want to pick it up."
"All right, but then you set it down before moving to the next."
So she did, holding it before her and studying it. Then she looked to me. "I'm not going to like these, am I?"
"Do you like any of them?"
"Yes, some." She looked back at the one she was holding. "I remember this. I remember my excitement." She looked away. "I am the monster you have always believed I am."
"Partly," I agreed. "But I survive."
She set it down and moved to the next. She didn't touch it, but she stared for a long time. Then finally she stepped to the last. She let out a gasp, and her hand flew to her mouth. When she turned to me, her eyes glowed, and I knew if she lowered her hand, her fangs would be out.
"I was wrong. This is, for all intents and purposes, vampire pornography."
"Not erotica?" I asked.
"Okay, maybe erotica." She turned back to it. Then rapidly turned away. "I can't think about it. Cover them up."
I hurried to assemble them, but I had another waiting for her, and I tossed it on the bed. It was a tombstone with my name and the years, 1979 to 2014. Kneeling behind the tombstone, gnawing at it, was Lady Dunn. One hand clawed at the stone, leaving jagged lines across my name, and the other was thrust into the dirt as if she were digging for my body.
"Does that help?" I asked.
Again, she stared for a long time, and when she turned back to face me again, she was wiping the blood from her eyes.
"It will not be like that," she said. "Change it. Change the date. 2094. Another eighty years. Please, Melissa."
"If I get the beauty back," I told her, "I will change the date."
"You offered three years. At least change it to 2017."
"That is the year the beauty d
ied, Lady Dunn. The date is not changing."
"I'll do it myself."
I shrugged. "You can try. If you show it to me with any alterations, you will not like the response."
"I am not displaying it with the others!"
"You will!" I screamed. "If you display any, you display all! Or I am done drawing, and I will find a way to end my life, if you will not do it for me."
Her eyes narrowed. "You don't know what I do with them."
"You will know if you are cheating me. Do what you will."
"Please cover that."
I added it to the stack of drawings and set them on the table. Then I turned to her and smiled. "Racquetball?"
"How can you do that?" she asked. "How can you go from those-" she pointed, "to casually asking about racquetball?"
"I won a glass of wine over dinner. Will we have it downstairs?"
"If you like. Racquetball will be lovely. If I win, you must change the date."
I stared at her. "That is unfair." But then I shrugged. "Fine."
She smiled, clipped the leash onto me, and tugged me from the room.
But I was feeling good. I was feeling really quite good, and I tugged playfully on the leash as she led me to the gym.
"What has gotten into you?"
"I got a rise out of you."
"Several," she agreed. "The drawings are brilliant."
"They are horrible and ugly."
"And pure brilliance." She turned to face me, drawing me closely to her. "This is not why I bought you, and I have no intention of ever selling a single piece, but if you continue to draw like this, I could sell the art and make back every penny, with interest."
"My art has never sold that well," I said. "And these are only drawings."
"I know the market for your art," she said. "I showed one of the sets to a collector."
"A collector of my art?"
"No, just a collector."
"Which set?"
"Subjugation."
"Oh."
"He offered me a quarter of a million dollars."
I stared at her. "That's insane."
She smiled. "He is very rich, and it would be a unique acquisition."
"Did you sell it?"
"I told him before I showed them that they weren't for sale. He'd been asking why I paid so much for you, and so I showed him your art and let him believe what he wanted."
I smiled. "You should sell them, then. I'll draw more."
"I don't think so."
"Do you know, have new pieces of mine been entering the market?"
"New pieces?"
I nodded.
"Where would new pieces come from?"
"My home."
"Ah. I thought perhaps you were afraid someone was impersonating you. No, there have been no new pieces. I believe your private collection is being kept intact."
"There would have been taxes, and at least a few months of the apartment as my lease wasn't up. Storage for everything. Expenses to pack it all. Tegan shouldn't have to pay that. She should have sold some pieces to cover the costs."
"Who are you?" she asked.
I dropped to my knees immediately. "I am your blood slave, m'lady."
"These issues are not your concern. You will not pursue these questions. Do I make myself clear?"
I lowered my head. "Yes, m'lady."
She tugged, and we entered the gym. I was subdued for a few minutes, but then as I began to change clothes, I turned to her. "I'm feeling lucky today."
"We'll see."
"We both know I won't win until you're ready to let me, and we both know you won't let me win today."
I led the way to the court, collecting a fresh can of balls and two racquets. We warmed up for a half hour, and then I said, "Your serve. Zero-zero."
She smiled and stepped into place. She ran me all over the court, but I got my five good volleys, winning the serve from her.
"Someone runs like a deer today," she observed.
I scored two points from her before I missed what should have been an easy return.
The score turned two-to-five before I won back the serve. I scored two more points, lost the serve, got it back, and earned another point. Five-five.
"Someone is motivated," she said. She was grinning.
She got the next two points, and then the serve went back and forth several times, but slowly I worked the score to twelve to nine in my favor. I was panting hard, and the lady was grinning.
She wasn't giving the points to me. She was playing the same game we've been playing, making each of her returns playable for me, but making me work. She wasn't trying to win on her skill but to give me the chance to win or lose based on my own mistakes.
And then I scored a point the old fashioned way. She didn't make it in time. She stopped and stared as the ball rolled away from her. Thirteen to nine.
"Bravo," she said quietly. "Take a water break."
I did, and when I returned to the court, she patted my bottom. She never did that, so she surprised me.
"What was that?"
"I want to change our wager."
I turned to her. "No."
"If I win, I want a foot massage."
"No."
"Melissa, listen to me. We're changing the wager."
"No."
"Please."
"Why?"
"Because," she said in a small voice, "you could win."
"That would be a bad thing?"
"Please, change the wager."
"No."
"Your serve," she said.
I served, and she returned a volley I couldn't possible reach. I didn't think any human could have. She had never done that before. I turned to her. "What are you doing?"
"My serve."
She scored four points, evening the game, and not a single serve was one I could reach. Then she turned to me and said quietly, "Please change the wager."
"I don't understand. I thought you wanted me to win!"
"I do, but I am too emotionally invested in winning this game."
I looked down, thinking about it. "If you win, I will do your hair and makeup every day for a week."
"I shudder to think what you would do." She laughed. "All right."
She served and scored another point, but it was my fault not hers. But then I took the serve back. Then it was seventeen-fourteen, but she made me work very hard, and I earned a few bruises slamming into walls to return her volleys. She grinned at me after every point. Then I lost the serve, lost a point, gained the serve, and drove the score to twenty-fourteen.
I lost the next three, and I was panting heavily. I didn't know if I had enough stamina left to get the serve back again. She took one more point, and then she gave me an easy serve, and each volley was also easily returned, and I took the serve back.
"That's cheating," I told her. "Your serve."
"No it's not," she said. "It is neither cheating nor my serve."
"I want to win fairly when I win. If it's not today, it'll be next week."
"All right," she said, "but I'm tired of listening to you slam into the walls."
"Make me work for it, m'lady. I want to earn it."
She smiled. "All right. Your serve."
I lost the serve and lost another point, but then I got it back. We traded the serve back and forth several times, and when I got the serve again, she declared another water break. She followed me.
"You can do it," she said. "I know you can." She spent the entire time giving me a pep talk, and then we returned to the court, and I served. She gave me a good return, but I waited for it, and just before it hit the floor, I hit it, and I hit a rollout, the ball slowly rolling away from the front wall. It was twice in one game, and I'd never hit one before today.
We both stared at the ball as even her vampire reflexes hadn't gotten her to it in time.
"Game point," I said quietly.
She went crazy, hooping with joy and pulling me into her arms.
"Th
ank the stars!" she said. "My face is saved from your ministrations."
I laughed. "I earned it."
"You did." She bounced me up and down a few times, and I squealed in surprise.
"I won my privilege."
"Yes."
"How long do I keep it?"
She pushed me away, holding me at arm's length. "One month. The clock restarts every time you win."
"So if I win once a month, I keep it."
"If you don't lose it for other reasons."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"When do I get my paint?"
"Tomorrow. Before breakfast. I'll show you myself."
"Won't you be sleeping?"
"I'll show you, then sleep."
I smiled. "Will you hold me, m'lady?"
She would.
* * * *
She joined me early the next morning. I woke with a stretch and a smile, opening my eyes. She was seated on the bed, watching me.
"Cuddle with me?"
She slipped into the bed and pulled me into her arms.
"I am your blood slave," I whispered to her, and she tightened her arms. "I don't mind anymore."
"Oh Melissa," she said, kissing the top of my head.
"When is your next party?"
"There is an event next week. I don't want to bring you."
"You have to. But that's not what I asked."
"Oh. I don't host many events. It can go years in between."
"You have a blood slave to display, and you know how much it pleases you."
"Then... I will plan something. Maybe a few weeks from now."
"Will I be the main course like I was the first time?"
"No. You are my blood slave, no one else's."
I cuddled closer. "I could stay here a while, but I bet you are ready to sleep."
"A few minutes is nice," she said.
We lay together, and I asked her if she would taste me before we go.
"No. There is something else I want, but I am going to wait to ask."
We got up, and she said I had time to shower if I wanted.
"No," I said. "I'll take a break later, unless my scent disturbs you."
"I love your scent," she said. "I always love your scent. It is richly you."
"I do not take ownership for body odor, which comes from bacteria fermenting on the skin."
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