Blood Slave

by Roseau, Robin

  * * * *

  When I arrived home, lunch was waiting and then I exercised until Lady Dunn retrieved me. I knelt to her and accepted her domination for several minutes, eventually ending up in the shower. She watched as I cleaned and dried, then clipped my leash in place. "I will dress you for dinner. It is almost nothing. You may wear the skirt and blouse when we go to the art store, and comfortable shoes. They come off on the drive to dinner.

  "Dinner?"

  She smiled. "You asked for a meal out."

  I returned her smile. "Thank you, m'lady."

  She drank from me before dressing me, just a sample, but she filled me with so much pleasure I couldn't think straight, and she had me dressed before my mind was working again.

  I was dressed in almost nothing, but it glittered. I didn't believe it followed human exposure laws, but she assured me I would not find myself under arrest.

  At the front door, I dressed over the, well, I hesitate to call them clothes. Lady Dunn wouldn't let me button the blouse all the way, but she had given me enough modesty I could shop without too much distraction. Then she tugged me to her car.

  We arrived at the art store. In the car, she turned to me. "I will give you a choice. You will remain leashed. Or I will remove the leash for now, but later in the restaurant, you will kiss my feet with all the humans watching, and you will firmly proclaim your obedience to me."

  I knew what she wanted, and I gave it to her. "I will, m'lady. I am your blood slave, after all."

  She smiled broadly and unclipped me.

  "How long do we have?"

  "Take however much time you need. Buy whatever you need."

  "Stool. Easel."

  "Everything you need there."

  "It seems like a waste."

  "Everything you need there. It will see future use somewhere. Perhaps the maid's daughter, or whoever it is. Perhaps she will donate everything to an up-and-coming starving artist. Buy what you need in the quality and quantity you need. You may ask my assistance if you remain very, very polite."

  And so I did. I tried to save money, tsking over the prices of the easels, but Lady Dunn simply said, "Which one do you want?"

  I pointed. "Heavy, but not so heavy I can't move it without help. Sturdy." She picked it up easily; I would have had to drag it.

  "I can't lift it, you know."

  "Do you need a lighter one?"

  "I can drag it. I just can't lift it."

  "So vampires are good for something."

  "Great shopping partners," I said. "They pick up all the things I can't and pay the bill besides. An artist's dream."

  She laughed.

  The clerks and the few shoppers stared at me. It was obvious what I was, after all, even without the leash. I ignored them.

  I didn't get my favorite stools, as they were special order only, but they had a good stool, and I bought one. Everything else was much easier, and in the end, we had quite the stash.

  "Um. Is it going to fit?"

  She laughed. "Madame's driver is waiting outside with a truck. It will all be waiting for you tomorrow. The furniture will be assembled, but may need to be moved."

  "Do we have time for another store? A photo shop?"

  "Yes. Do you know which one?"

  I directed her. At the photo store, I bought a backdrop, lights for lighting my subject, gels for color, and more lights to light my workspace.

  "The lighting is inadequate?"

  "You told me to buy what I wanted. I took you at your word."

  "You don't have any of this in your studio," she said.

  "You didn't know to buy it and I didn't ask. I don't have any in my old loft, either, because I didn't want to spend the money."

  "Then we will not submit this bill, and the lights will come home when you are done."

  "Thank you."

  We took the lights with us, as Madame's driver had not followed us. Once we were in the car, Lady Dunn said, "Can you take that off while in here?"

  "Yes." I pulled off the clothes and folded them carefully. A moment later, she attached the leash and caressed my lips with her thumb. I buckled in, and she drove us to the restaurant.

  "What attitude do you want me to have?"

  "I don't understand the question."

  "Blood slaves are a deterrent. If I go in there looking like I enjoy your company, I am a poor deterrent."

  "Do you enjoy my company?"

  "Of course I do."

  "You are going to be on display. I imagine you will be self-conscious about it. I am going to surprise you a number of times. We will put on a show. But if you enjoy my company at the same time, there is nothing wrong with that. Act however you want, but do not act rudely."

  "Yes, m'lady," I said. "I am your blood slave."

  She smiled, stepped from the car, then pulled me from my side, clasping my leash. She immediately became ultra-dominant, tugging more than necessary and leading my every movement. I was so used to it by then, it was nothing, but she stepped it up until she had my complete, utter focus as I tried to anticipate her demands. She kept it up all the way to our table, then there was just the slighted tug downwards, and I lowered myself to my knees.

  The restaurant grew very quiet, and I imagined I had everyone's attention. Then I knelt over and kissed her feet. "I am your blood slave, m'lady, your property. I live to serve, I live for your pleasure." I said it clearly, and in the silence, I knew my voice carried.

  I continued to kiss her feet.

  A man muttered, but I didn't hear what he said. His wife shushed him.

  Finally she tugged with the chain, and I rose. She led me to my seat then took the one to my left.

  A water boy came by and poured water for both of us. My lady said nothing to him. But then a waiter stopped by. He eyed me carefully.

  "Is she a. Um."

  "Blood slave?" Lady Dunn asked.

  "Um. Yes."

  "Yes, she is," Lady Dunn told him. I kept my head bowed.

  "Do I. Um. Do I give her a menu?"

  "No. I will order for her. I am Lady Dunn. There is a bottle chilling in back; I sent it over earlier today. You will decant it into a clear container and bring it out with a clear wine glass. My slave will have a diet soda."

  "Clear, please," I said quietly.

  "She is allowed two glasses tonight, as she has pleased me greatly, and then after that, she is only allowed water."

  "May I have them with my meal, m'lady?"

  "Of course."

  I kept my head bowed, so I did not see the waiter's reaction. He handed Lady Dunn a menu, muttered something, and left.

  "You scared the hell out of him," I said quietly. "Perhaps you should ask for a waiter that doesn't resemble a deer."

  "Are you kidding? This is more fun."

  I glanced at her face, and she was smiling.

  "Was that a joke?"

  "Of course it was, although I greatly enjoyed your speech a few minutes ago. However, I would prefer talking to your eyes, not the top of your head tonight."

  "I am trying to stay in character."

  She smiled. "I know. Let us see what is on the menu."

  She opened it and spent several minutes reading. Finally she turned to me. "I do not want to give you this menu after making a point earlier, but it has been so long since I have eaten food, I do not know how to order for you."

  "Are you able to offer basic choices to me?"

  "Chicken or fish." She perused the menu. "Or lamb. Do you like lamb?"

  "I do. It is red meat, however, and there must be a reason Maria does not serve it to me."

  "Will it be too rich? You have had a tightly controlled diet for nearly two years."

  "It depends upon how it is served. There may be a lot of cream. Ask the waiter to send either the manager or chef out to talk about the choices, or bite the bullet and give me the menu."

  She laughed. We chatted about other things until the waiter returned. Her carafe was wrapped in a towel to hide the co
lor, and she frowned.

  "Whose idea was the towel?"

  "Um. The manager's. She thought the color might disturb the other patrons."

  "Pour for me," she said after a moment. "Then I would like you to retrieve either the manager or the chef to discuss the menu."

  It was instantly obvious what she was drinking, and the unfortunate waiter's hands shook as he poured for her. She had to reach out and steady his hands, which caused him to blanch, and he nearly dropped the carafe. As soon as her blood was poured, he fled.

  "Are you enjoying that?" I asked her.

  "Part of me does, but a bigger part does not. Are you accusing me of causing it?"

  "No. M'lady, are you trying to teach me a lesson? Doing it at his expense is unkind."

  "You feel empathy for him?"

  "Yes. Don't you?"

  "No. Empathy is very difficult for a vampire and does not come naturally. It requires concentration. Am I doing anything to frighten him?"

  "Not breathing," I said with a small smile. "I don't think there's a thing you can do about it. If you do this again, you could warn the restaurant to assign wait staff that can handle it. He can't."

  "Am I that frightening?"

  "Yes."

  She sat quietly. I couldn't tell if my answer disturbed her or not. I sipped my water, and she drank from her blood. I could tell the nearest people were watching, and I heard one man whisper, "Don't stare!" and another say, "Get your eyes off her, big guy." I smirked at that one.

  "Are you listening to them?"

  "Not intentionally."

  "This was stupid of me. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

  "Why did you?"

  "I don't know. I used to enjoy going out to dinner with my friends. I wanted to go out with you, I guess. I didn't think it through. We can just have our drinks and go, if you want."

  "No. If they can't handle it, it's not our fault."

  That was when the manager stepped up to our table. She was a well put together woman of middle years, and while she was deferential to Lady Dunn, she didn't seem unduly scared.

  "Hello. I am Leslie, the manager on duty tonight. Steven asked me to stop by your table. Is everything satisfactory?"

  Lady Dunn flashed a world-class smile -- no fang -- and said, "Everything is fine, but we may be disturbing your other guests. Do you need us to go?"

  "Has anyone said anything untoward?" the manager asked.

  "No, not at all."

  "Are they making you uncomfortable? Did you want a different table?"

  "They aren't making us uncomfortable. We're making them uncomfortable."

  The manager smiled. "Wasn't that your intention with the entrance?" She paused. "If you want another table, I can give you something more secluded, but if you are fine here, you are welcome to remain."

  I was impressed with her cool demeanor.

  "Then we shall remain," my lady said. "I would like my blood slave to have the lamb tonight, but I am concerned it may be too rich for her. She has been on a tightly controlled diet for two years."

  The woman glanced at me for a moment. "It is a little rich," she agreed. "But why don't I have Stella stop out. She may have some recommendations. She would enjoy a challenge."

  "That would be lovely, thank you. I have one other concern. Your waiter seems a bit overwhelmed. It does not bother me, but he seems quite terrified. If there is someone a little less easily frightened, he may be happy to give up the tip from one small table."

  "I'll see to you myself," she said. "May I bring your slave a basket of bread?"

  "A small basket," Lady Dunn indicated. "She would enjoy that."

  "Very good," she replied. "I will send Stella out."

  When the manager backed away, my lady smiled at me. "Better?" I nodded.

  She reached over and caressed my neck over the bite scars. "Do these hurt?"

  "No, but sometimes they are distracting. I touch them with my fingers, and I notice them."

  "I have marred your skin," she observed.

  "I believe the word 'intentionally' belongs in that sentence."

  Her eyes flashed red for a moment, and I wondered if I had overstepped, but then she smiled very briefly. "I find I care. I haven't cared before."

  "We both know these marks are more signs of your ownership, m'lady, reminders to me the rest of my life, just like the lingering scars from the tattoo when I have it removed."

  Her eyes grew wide. "You will remove it?"

  "You thought I would keep it and remain an obvious blood slave the rest of my life?" I paused. "Well, as I expect to be dead in another year, that's true, but you know what I meant."

  "I-" she paused, sipping from her glass. "I hadn't thought about it, I guess. I just assumed the tattoo was permanent."

  "And the piercings too, I suppose. The holes will remain for the rest of my life, you know. They may close, but you will never need to look that closely to see them. I will carry the marks of a blood slave to my grave. I will never feel comfortable in public again."

  She was saved from answering by the arrival of a ruddy-complexioned woman in a white chef's uniform. "I am Stella, the chef," she said. "Leslie said you had concerns about the richness of the lamb."

  Lady Dunn explained, and then she and the chef discussed options. I listened dispassionately. She wasn't soliciting my opinion and had made a big deal of ordering for me. She and the chef came to an agreement, but then the chef asked, "How does she like her meat?"

  Lady Dunn blinked at her twice. "I thought we just discussed that."

  "She is asking how done it should be cooked. I prefer medium," I whispered very quietly. I knew the vampire would hear me and no one else would.

  "Oh, of course," Lady Dunn recovered well. "Medium."

  "Very good," the chef said. "Is there anything else we can prepare for you?"

  "I have this," the vampire replied, tapping the carafe. "That is all I require. Alas, I cannot eat anything you produce."

  "You do not prefer... fresh?"

  "Yes, I do, and for that, I have my slave, and others. If I wished to be served fresh in a restaurant, I would have taken my slave to a vampire restaurant. Please do not fuss over my needs. The lamb for my slave is perfect."

  "Of course. I will leave you. It will be a few minutes for her salad."

  "There are vampire restaurants?" I asked.

  She laughed. "Yes. I do not care for them. They tend to be very hedonistic." She paused. "I am going to take you to one."

  "Why? If you do not care for them."

  She smiled but didn't answer.

  "Tonight?"

  "No. After you finish your commission for Cathalina."

  I paused for a moment. "Am I going to be on the menu?"

  "Mine only. I have never fed from someone else in front of you."

  "You've been feeding from someone else behind me?"

  "Of course. You thought I only drank bottled?"

  "I hadn't thought about it, I guess."

  "I think it will be easier for you if it is a stranger."

  I just realized what she had told me. I guess I knew that, but it hadn't occurred to me, and I had been so narcissistic I hadn't even noticed whether her staff had the same types of scars I carried.

  "I'm an idiot," I said quietly.

  "No. You have dealt with a difficult situation and are just coming to full acceptance. Even then, you would have had to receive a much longer sentence than you did to fully accept this life. You know it is temporary, even if you expect it to be fatal. You know in just a little more than a year, this will be over, and you will go home to your studio and your old lady with the dog."

  "I'm sure that apartment has been rented to someone else by now. Rent was somewhat expensive, and without an income, Tegan would have moved my things into storage and allowed it to be rented out to someone else. Although it would have been some months, as I had a lease."

  "Your lease became void when you were sentenced," she said. "If the space we
re still available, would you move back into it, or would you have too many memories and want a new place? Maybe move to a different city entirely."

  "I don't know. I don't know if I'll be able to decide until after. You know I believe it is moot. If you don't kill me, either intentionally, accidentally, or through some vampire games, you're going to kill me in your garden a year from now. You haven't even attempted to show me beauty, and I do not believe it will help. I am lost, m'lady. We both know it."

  Her eyes flashed anger, but she calmed nearly immediately. "I believe you are wrong. I will not accept defeat."

  I paused. "You will not honor your promise?"

  "I didn't say that."

  The manager returned with a steaming basket of bread. She set it on the table along with butter and olive oil. I stared at everything and began to salivate badly.

  "Cracked pepper?" the manager asked.

  "Please," I whispered for my vampire.

  "Yes, thank you," she said to the manager.

  The woman used the large pepper grinder to grind fresh pepper onto a bread plate, then she drizzled some of the olive oil onto the plate, setting it where I could readily reach it. And then she stepped away.

  "Pepper on bread?"

  "May I? Please? It isn't in my diet."

  "That is olive oil, isn't it?"

  "Yes."

  "I will allow it. And even some of the butter if you are sparing."

  I didn't wait. There were two rolls in the breadbasket. I broke the end off one, pulled the olive oil closer, and nearly drenched the bread in the oil before popping it in my mouth. I moaned with pleasure.

  My lady was watching me intently. "I do not understand this reaction."

  "The bread is fresh and warm," I said. "And perhaps of a style that Maria may not feel fits my diet. The oil is rich, but good, and the pepper adds just a tiny bite." I smiled. "You might like that the pepper bits my tongue, but perhaps it causes you jealousy."

  She laughed lightly. "I shall not be jealous of the pepper. But I see a trend. You enjoy being bitten. That is nearly the same noise you make."

  I cocked my head. "You know there is no comparison."

  "So you prefer the pepper's bite over mine?" She was grinning.

  "No, I do not."

  "Perhaps I should bite you right here."

  I cocked my head, trying to decide if she was serious. "I don't think you're supposed to bring your own food into a restaurant."