She guffawed, drawing us additional attention, but I thought perhaps it was good for them to see her laugh.
"I am a vampire. We don't necessarily follow the human rules for social etiquette."
"So, are you planning on using my neck or just a wrist?"
"I'm sure nearly everyone here has seen a vampire eat from a wrist. It wouldn't give them a new experience."
I took another piece of bread, eating it slowly. We watched each other. I finished the bread before speaking. "I can't tell if you're serious or joking."
She smiled but didn't answer, instead changing the subject. We talked quietly until my meal arrived.
It was wonderful, and the portion size was perfect as well. Lady Dunn seemed to enjoy my reactions but didn't tease me for them. The chef returned as I was finishing and asked whether "your slave enjoyed her meal."
"By some of the noises she made, I believe she did," my lady replied.
"Excellent," replied Stella. "I am warmed to have helped bring pleasure into her life."
She glanced at me, and there was a certain amount of pity in the look. I looked down, not commenting.
"Well, I have a kitchen to oversee," the chef added. "I hope we shall see you again."
"Perhaps you shall," Lady Dunn replied. "She may earn this privilege again."
A few moments later, the manager stopped by carrying a dessert menu. My mistress took it from her but said she wasn't sure whether I would be having dessert.
"Very good," the woman replied. "I'll check back."
The moment the woman left, my lady turned to me and smiled. It was her, "It's time to tease you again" smile.
"I believe it is time to return to an earlier discussion."
"Oh?"
"Would you like me to feed from your neck?"
I stared at her, and this time I knew she was serious.
"Perhaps somewhere more private would also be more appropriate."
"You enjoy when I feed from you. Would it not cap the meal perfectly? Everyone could watch. They would see you close your eyes. They would see you squirm and moan in bliss. Perhaps you would cry out for me."
"It seems that would serve as a poor deterrent. Do you not worry everyone here would quickly consume a glass of wine and climb into their cars?"
"Perhaps my fellow vampires need additional blood slaves. They have become harder to acquire over the years. And I didn't know what I was missing while I eschewed the custom."
"Maybe the quality of your experience is directly related to the quality of your blood slave," I suggested. "I have not paid particular attention most of the time, but Rachel's experience seemed somewhat less pleasing to her."
"Perhaps. I have decided."
I lowered my eyes. "I am your blood slave-"
She tugged my chain to interrupt me. "That is not my decision. I have decided to let you decide. You have a choice. You may, loudly enough for at least the nearest guests to hear, ask me to feed from you, and I will. Or I will not feed from you for a week."
I whimpered at the thought, looking up to see if she was serious.
"I never bluff," she added.
I wasn't sure if that was true, but I was willing to believe it then and there.
"These people didn't come out to see a show they will find shocking," I said.
"I gave the good Leslie ample opportunity to gracefully relocate us. We have taken our repast slowly, and very few tables have cleared since we arrived. I believe they are lingering over their meals to watch us. A few have asked their dinner companions if it was time to leave, only to be told, 'I want to watch'. Have you never stared at a blood slave and wondered what she had done, or what it would be like?"
I looked down at my hands and came to my own decision.
"M'lady," I said firmly, not loudly, but loudly enough, "I would like dessert, if I may."
"Oh?" she asked at exactly the same volume I had used. "What would my blood slave like?"
"You," I said. "Your fangs in my neck, your wrist in my mouth."
"Oh, well played," she said quietly. "We cannot do it that way." Then she raised her voice for the room. "The first sounds lovely. I will delay my decision on the later."
She rose to her feet, gracefully of course, and moved behind me. I immediately adjusted my position and tipped my head.
She took her time, and I knew everyone was staring. I heard from somewhere to my right, a woman ask, "Is she really going to do it? Right here in front of us?"
"Shhh," was the reply. "I can't hear."
My lady chuckled quietly. She moved my hair away, then made a point of touching my neck with her hands, caressing me gently. She did this often, and it sent shivers up my spine every time. My eyes began to close even before she bent over.
"Will you drink deeply?"
"I shall savor you," she said.
There was a gasp from another table, either due to the flash of her fangs, or perhaps her eyes glowed red. And then Lady Dunn's fangs sank deeply into my neck. I offered my own gasp of pain, but immediately she began bathing my neck with her tongue even with her fangs buried deeply in me, and I moaned loudly.
One of her arms was wrapped around me, her other in my hair, controlling my head. I moaned again. Then her hand moved to cover my breast at the same time she licked me, and I moaned loudly a third time.
She had never touched my breasts before. Even when dressing me, she hadn't actually touched my breasts.
But making me gasp and moan as her hand moved there surely let everyone else believe it was her touch, not her tongue, that had generated my reaction. Still, I clutched at her arm, pressing her hand firmly against me, one of my hands over hers.
She purred to me. She did that sometimes, when she was especially pleased while feeding, and it was loud. No one could mistake it for anything other than it was: an expression of pleasure.
She fed from me for a long time, giving me deep pleasure the entire time, and my brain shut down long before she was done. But eventually, as always, she withdrew her fangs, and her tongue teased my wound closed.
I whimpered in disappointment as her mouth left my neck, although I was so full of pleasure, I don't think I could have survived much more. And I knew I would slump if she released me, so instead she held me, whispering to me.
"Mine. Say it. Loudly."
"Yours," I said, but it was a whisper. "Yours!" I said more firmly.
While we stood there, the manager returned. "I take it there will be no dessert."
"No," Lady Dunn said. "You have been very gracious. Do you wish to be recommended?"
The woman paused. "Perhaps the next time you come, you can make advance reservations so that we may more carefully see to your needs as well."
"And place us out of sight?"
"Not at all. I will bring your check."
M'lady hadn't released me. She reached for her purse one handed, opening it, and then withdrew a pair of hundred dollar bills. She laid them on the table. "I believe this more than covers our bill."
"Far more," the woman replied.
"As I said, you have been gracious. My slave thanks you."
She had to support me as I climbed from my chair, an arm around my waist as we made our way from restaurant. She hadn't taken so much blood; I was just the cat drugged on catnip.
She chuckled, pleased with her effect on me.
The Painting
Madame Cathalina did indeed find clothing from her earliest years. She assured me the clothing was accurate, even to the materials used. She found two professional models, and I borrowed a camera, taking hundreds of photos. I asked afterwards, "Aren't you worried they'll tell everyone what we did?"
"I glamoured them. They don't know where they went or what they did. Instead, there was an indoor fashion shoot for an unknown fashion designer. They weren't impressed with the clothing and do not believe the designer will be successful."
I vaguely recalled my mistress talking about making someone forget something, but I could
n't put my finger on it, shrugging it off a moment later.
I knew before I actually began painting I wasn't going to be able to do what I needed on a single canvas, but I wasn't ready to let anyone else know that. I designed the paintings, then stretched and sized multiple canvases, leaving them in the locked storage chest Cathalina had provided. Each day, I withdrew one of the canvases, placing it on the easel, but I was sure it would take a greater amount of observation than was likely for anyone to realize I was rotating between more than one of them.
Eventually I decided to do a triptych, three paintings to be displayed side-by-side. Each of the paintings could be displayed separately, but I hoped Madame would keep them together.
From the day I began painting, it took me two and a half months to complete.
* * * *
My life while working on the panels continued, of course. I continued to survive. My lady began taking me to more human venues, even asking if there were things I wanted to do. She took me to a comedy club. We sat in the shadows, and halfway through the main act, she moved me onto her lap and latched her mouth to my neck. She drank very, very slowly from me, but from the noises I made, we garnered attention, becoming at least as popular as the act on stage.
I imagined we were better entertainment; he wasn't very funny.
She took me to a museum, and halfway through the exhibits, she told me to stand and pose as one of the exhibits. She pulled from her purse a little sign I was to hold in one hand that said, "Blood Slave circa 2016, On Loan Courtesy D. Dunn". I garnered a significant amount of attention and expected the museum officials to have a chat with us. I saw my lady speaking to an officious-looking man, who went away, and I stood there for nearly two hours before she pulled me away.
"What does the D stand for?" I asked her later.
"My first name."
I didn't complain. I had long learned complaining yielded punishments, and I never, ever enjoyed her punishments.
Madame Cathalina hosted an event. Lady Dunn dressed me especially provocatively, which I hadn't thought was possible. "It is a charity event," she told me.
"Raising funds for down-on-their luck vampires?" I asked.
"No. There was a fire last year. An apartment complex burned down. Madame Cathalina wishes to buy the property, clear it, turn it into a park, and donate it to the city."
"Oh." I looked down. "I am sorry I was snide. Is it too late to donate one of my paintings? Perhaps you could contact Tegan and the two of you could select one from my personal collection. There are a few that are quite lovely."
"I am sure there are many that are quite lovely." She smiled. "I have something else in mind." She refused to explain what it was.
We made an entrance. We always made an entrance. By now, her home was quite familiar, and while I was never comfortable being surrounded by so many vampires, I wasn't necessarily uncomfortable, either.
We'd been there an hour, my lady having talked briefly with everyone who mattered, before she said, "I would like to see your studio here."
She hadn't seen it yet.
"It is winter," I said, "and I am, well, for all intents and purposes, naked. Can I show you another time? I don't have any clothes here."
"You made it from the car to here."
"Five steps, and they were torture on my feet. I'm finally warm, and only because you let me stand near the fireplace for twenty minutes."
"I did?" she asked. "I hadn't noticed." But she was smirking. I knew she had made me kneel where she had intentionally. "Is the studio locked?"
"It never has been," I said.
"Heated?"
"Yes, the same as yours."
"Then I will carry you, if you direct me. We will be outside only a few seconds."
"I am your blood slave-" I began to say.
"No. I am your patron. For this, I am your patron."
"I would love to show you, if you promise to run quickly."
"Very quickly," she said with a smile.
I led the way to the back door.
"Describe the route." So I explained how to get there and what it looked like. "The door enters inward."
"Here we go."
She picked me up, cradling me. "Lay your head against my shoulder and get comfortable."
I did, squirming around a little to tease her. A moment later, she opened the back door, and then the world was a blur.
She didn't accelerate the way a vampire might normally; that might have destroyed me with the sudden forces. But I have never in my life traveled that quickly, and when she set me down inside the studio, I was dizzy. She had to hold me steady while it dispersed.
"Wow," I said eventually.
"I am perhaps better than an amusement park ride."
"You are, but perhaps not for what you just did."
She grinned.
I used the pad to turn up the lights my fingers automatically logging my location. From behind me, she snickered, recognizing what I had done. "I don't think that's necessary when you're with me."
"Habit, m'lady."
I also told the furnace to warm the space further; I usually wore clothing when I was here. I gave her the tour.
There wasn't a single piece of my art visible. All the sketches, drawings, and halfway-completed canvases were hidden.
"Where is the painting?" she asked, frowning at the easel.
"Locked away so nosy eyes don't peek," I replied.
"I must see them."
"Why?"
"Do not question my motives!" she thundered, and I fell to my knees and lowered my head to the floor.
I stayed like that for a while before she said more softly, "I have been insanely jealous already. We are now here in this studio she made for you, but I do not see a single sign you are actually working here. I know you are, and I believe you, but there is a portion of me wondering what you are doing here if you are not producing paintings."
"I don't want to show you," I said. "I never show my pieces early."
"Show me something, Melissa. Please."
I sighed, and she lifted me to my feet. "Please," she repeated. Her fangs were showing.
"It's not going to help you put those away. You know you're going to see I have been paying a great deal of attention to her. Would you have me produce poor work?"
"No. I will control myself."
"Fine. Please go into the kitchen and I will bring you what I am willing to show you."
"I will see everything."
"There are hundreds of drawings."
"Then I will see these hundreds of drawings."
"No. I promised."
She lifted an eyebrow.
"I promised. You may not see some of them. I will bring the ones you may see."
"What am I not allowed to see?"
"The things she doesn't want you to see! She doesn't want anyone to see."
"You are not helping with my jealousy."
"Go to the kitchen, Lady Dunn. Or bleed me dry right here."
"You will do what you are told!" she yelled. Her fangs lengthened even further.
I tilted my head and lifted my hair out of the way for her. "My vein is right here. You know it well."
She made a disgusted sound. "If my jealousy is not assuaged, you will show me everything."
"If your jealousy is not assuaged, you may bring it up with Madame Cathalina."
"You are my blood slave!"
"You told me before we started this to treat you both like patrons. When I am no longer your blood slave, and I no longer answer to you, do you want me sharing your secrets with anyone who asks? Perhaps you will destroy me so I cannot."
"You know nothing to share."
I shrugged. "Go into the kitchen and I will bring you what I may."
She made another disgusted noise, but she stomped off to the kitchen. A moment later, I heard the refrigerator open, and I thought I would find her with a glass of blood when I arrived.
I crossed the room to the door and punched in
on the tablet a message to Madame Cathalina: Please come to my studio. She might see it, she might not.
Then I opened the drawers of drawings, sorting them out. There were a great deal. I grabbed the first twenty and carried them into the kitchen. "There are many more, I will bring them in." I set them down on the counter and turned around.
She was indeed drinking a glass of blood.
"Why is there caffeinated soda in your refrigerator?"
I turned around. "Because you gave Ashlyn permission to accompany me a few times, and that is what she drinks. I have not knowingly had caffeine since you had my face tattooed."
I didn't wait for her response, but returned to the drawings, weeding through for more of them. I carried them to the kitchen. Lady Dunn was staring at one of the full-length drawings.
"This is good," she said. It was said gently.
"Thank you."
"A very good likeness, and it does not have your usual, um. Embellishments."
"It is just a sketch," I said. "A study of her posture."
It was while sorting through the next set that the door opened, and Madame stepped in.
A heartbeat later, Lady Dunn appeared, and I slammed the drawer of drawings closed and spun around.
The tension climbed dramatically.
"You summoned her?" Lady Dunn asked coldly.
"There are too many I can't show you without her permission. You weren't going to be satisfied."
"Oh my," said Cathalina. "If you wondered what she's been doing out here, you could simply review the videos."
"I have been. It hasn't been enough."
"Melissa, your mistress has a pretty good idea how old I am and what part of the world I am from. There are two afternoons of sketches I prefer she not see. You know which ones. If it is not sufficient, then I shall decide."
"I am not happy," I said. "You are both patrons, and I do not show my sketches to my patrons. And I certainly do not show anyone an unfinished canvas."
"There's that-" began Lady Dunn, then she grew silent.
"There's that what?" I asked, a hand on my hip.
"Nothing," she said.
"Your slave stands up to you," Cathalina observed. "None of mine ever have, and most of them don't survive remotely as long as she has. Haven't you cowed her by now?" But she was smirking.
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