Blood Slave

by Roseau, Robin

  "Does that mean 'Yes m'lady' and 'No m'lady' or is it only a reference to volume and tone?"

  "Volume, tone, and perhaps word choice."

  I poked my head out from under the covers, moving to a sitting position with my back against the wall, the bedding pulled up to my chin.

  "Fine," I said.

  She stepped in and glanced at the tray from dinner, untouched.

  "You were supposed to eat. Why haven't you eaten?"

  "You came here to chastise me? Go ahead."

  "It was a question, Melissa."

  "It was the only rebellion I had remaining to me, or at least the only one I thought of that wasn't self-destructive."

  She moved further into the room, collecting the chair and sitting down. It was a miracle I hadn't destroyed it, but I actually hadn't turned destructive, except against the shoes.

  "Once I calmed down, I called Edie," she said. "You may remember that she is a psychiatrist."

  "Imagine, a psychiatrist who struggles to feel empathy. She must be very good." The last was said with obvious sarcasm.

  "Actually, she is. There are many cases she can't help, but there are many times she can. And of course, even when she doesn't have an empathic understanding, she has an intellectual one."

  "Well, if you were able to calm down, you're ahead of me."

  "She told me the most amazing thing," the lady said. "I still struggle to believe she is right, but she told me to ask you. She suggested I first tell you something else."

  "Oh?" I said. "I am supposed to care what either of you have to say?"

  "I believe you care a great deal," she said. "If you didn't care, you would not have been so insanely angry."

  "Insanely? Is that a medical diagnosis?"

  "Figure of speech," she replied. "Edie told me I should remind you that while I may not always act like it, I have reasons to care very deeply about you."

  "Reasons you state exist but offer no proof while offering a significant amount of evidence I live for your amusement and a meal, and nothing else."

  She didn't reply for a while then finally said, "I understand you are still angry, and I understand you believe that. I want to ask you something. Is this-" and she gestured, "-how you want to spend the rest of your sentence? I thought we were doing pretty well."

  "You have the power to set me free," I pointed out. "If you truly cared about me, you would stop doing all this to me. You would let me go. My sentence was for one to three years. You could let me go."

  She turned away and didn't respond.

  "If you cared about me," I said quietly, "You could prove it. If you cared about me, you wouldn't keep hurting me."

  "You bring that on yourself."

  "The vampire bar wasn't my idea. The shoes weren't. Being dragged around naked everywhere wasn't. How do I bring these things on myself?"

  "Please," she said, "let me think a moment."

  I sat quietly for a minute and then felt the tears on my cheeks.

  "Part of the reason I didn't eat the food was because I refused to crawl over there to get it. It's bad enough I have to crawl to use the bathroom."

  "Oh, Melissa," she said. She pulled the covers back. I tried to fight her for a moment, then released them. She saw my feet and the shoes. Her mouth tightened for a moment, but then she took my closest foot, set it in her lap, and gently removed the shoe. She did the same with the other.

  "If I bring the food over, will you eat it?" she asked.

  "It's all old. It's been there for hours."

  "Does that matter?"

  I stared at her. "Do you like blood that's been sitting out for hours?"

  "No. If I have something else brought up, will you eat it?"

  "A little."

  She pulled out her phone and made a call, speaking very briefly to, I presume, Maria. "Ten minutes," she said after hanging up the call.

  I didn't thank her.

  "I would like to leave the question of the vampire bar aside for a few minutes," she said. "I had reasons for bringing you there."

  "Yes, I know," I said. "More of my subjugation. Did you like knowing how I felt while that bitch got off against your leg?"

  "That is not it," she said. "May we come back to that?"

  "Fine."

  "I want to ask a question. I think I know the answer, or thought I did, but I could have been horribly wrong. I want to talk about these shoes you have completely destroyed."

  "You don't expect an apology, do you?"

  "No. Prior to two nights ago, if I had said, for instance, that we were going to dinner at Madame Cathalina's, an intimate affair, and asked you to wear the shoes because it would please me, would you have worn them?"

  "I am your blood slave," I started to say, but she held up a hand.

  "That's not what I am asking. Would you have worn them because you enjoy pleasing me, even if you don't understand why something pleases me?"

  I stared at her.

  "Not as a blood slave, either," she added. "As a friend."

  "You think we're friends?" I screeched.

  "Please, Melissa. If I had asked, not ordered, but asked, but told you it was important to me, would you have voluntarily worn them? Or what if Maria told you I had bought them for you, and that I have always had fantasies of seeing you in them, would you have come to me and asked to wear them?"

  I lowered my gaze to my lap then answered in a small voice, "Probably."

  "I know it is arrogant of me, Melissa, but I knew that, or at least believed that. I believed that you would accept quite a bit of what I make you do, just to please me."

  "Not the bar!" I screamed. "Not watching you with that skank!"

  "I know," she said. "But the rest. Not all the rest, but a lot of it."

  "Yes, probably," I said.

  "I shouldn't do these things to you. I know I shouldn't. I can't help it. I-" she paused. "I'm just so proud of you, and I want to show you off, show you off the way a vampire shows off a human. And I know it's wrong. I know I'm showing you off as a possession, not a person, but I can't help it. Part of me thinks of you as something I possess, and I fight it most of the time, but in the end, I can't help it."

  She turned to face me fully. "You already know I am embarrassed about that."

  "Then stop."

  "I can't."

  "Let me go."

  "I can't, both because it is against a vampire's nature to part with something she thinks belongs to her, but also because I would lose you. Not as a person, but as a friend. And I am pretty sure you will find a way to commit suicide. Or accept Cathalina's offer, and I'll have to think of you with her instead of with me."

  "So you're going to keep me until the last minute, then kill me because you can't stand me being with someone else?"

  "No. I will eventually let you go."

  "I don't believe you."

  "I will."

  There was a knock on the door. "Enter," she said, and Maria stepped into the room carrying a tray.

  "I know you asked for only a little, but I didn't know what would sit well, so I brought small amounts of different things," she said. "Where do you want it?"

  I looked at the vampire. "May I eat it here?"

  She nodded, so I patted the bed. Maria crossed the room and set it down.

  "Do I have to eat it all?" I asked.

  "Eat what you can," the lady replied. "Do not eat so much your stomach rebels. Will you promise to eat properly beginning in the morning?"

  "I don't know," I said. "I suppose it depends on whether we're screaming at each other again tonight."

  "If we are not screaming?"

  "Then at least offer another way to rebel."

  She smiled briefly. "All right."

  Maria stepped out, taking the old tray with her.

  "Your staff shouldn't have to wait on me." We'd had that discussion before.

  "Is that what you want to discuss?"

  "No." I looked at the food Maria had brought and picked up a pie
ce of pear. I ate, forcing myself to eat slowly so I wouldn't gorge.

  "You've been happy," she said.

  "Are you insane?" I asked. "How can you possibly think that?"

  "What would you call it?"

  "Resigned," I said. "Making the best of a situation that shouldn't be. Moments of happiness, perhaps."

  "I thought you were happy," she said. "I thought I brought you pleasure."

  "Is my art a sign of someone happy?" I asked. "Or is it the sign of someone barely surviving a nightmare?"

  "Ah. So Edie was wrong after all."

  "You haven't told me what Edie told you."

  "She told me the reason you responded so unreasonably was because you were blind with jealousy."

  "Of course I was!" I screamed. "How could you want that skank instead of me? I know you bleed other people, and I know you give them pleasure, but you don't make me watch! How could you?"

  "Melissa-"

  "Don't 'Melissa' me!" I pulled myself out from under the covers and threw myself at her, my fists swinging wildly, ineffectually, screaming in rage. "My neck! Mine! Not hers! Not anyone else's! And she had sex with you. How could you talk to me about coming to you and then have sex with her minutes later?" I swung and swung, but she caught my wrists. I struggled as she pulled me to her, wrapping her arms around me and trapping my arms.

  "How could you?"

  Then I was sobbing, but still screaming, and I began to hyperventilate. Soon all I could do was bring in great, wracking sobs.

  "Shh," she said quietly. "Shh. It's okay now, Melissa. Shh."

  "It's not!" I sobbed. "I'm so stupid!" I screamed. "Fall in love with a vampire. What kind of idiot does that? And not just any vampire, but one that treats me the way you do? I'm an idiot!"

  She tried calming me down, taking me back to the bed and holding me in her arms. I gave up struggling with her, but I didn't calm down, either.

  Finally she transferred how she was holding me, fishing her phone out of her pocket. A moment later, she said, "You were right. Can you hear her?" Pause. "I can't calm her down. I'm afraid she's going to hurt herself." Pause. "Should I feed from her?"

  Even I heard the "No!" but I didn't hear the rest.

  "She doesn't understand. She won't listen." More pauses. "But-" Another pause. "All right. All right." She hung up.

  "Listen to me," she said after a moment. "Edie says you aren't going to believe me, but listen to me. Penny was just a meal to me, that's all."

  "So I'm just a meal? I knew it!"

  "No!" she said. "Penny was just a meal. You are far more."

  "You say that to all your blood slaves."

  "Well, that's true."

  "It's not a joke!"

  "It's a little funny."

  "Shut up! Go away."

  "Listen to what I have to say, and then I'll go away."

  "Fine."

  "I didn't take you there to hurt you. I took you so you could see Penny."

  I pulled my arms free and went after her again. "You bitch!"

  "Stop it!" she screamed, grabbing my wrists. "Not like that. You needed to see how far she had fallen. That's all. You needed to see how far you could fall."

  I grew still, panting, then I pulled away from her, and she let me go. I retreated onto the bed, pulling my legs up to my chin. I sat like that for a long time.

  "I'll go," she said and started to get up.

  "You didn't think I knew?"

  She paused.

  "I mean, I didn't know about Penny, but about me. You don't think I already know?"

  "It was a warning, Melissa. I thought you needed to see."

  I looked up at her. "The only thing getting me through this is the pleasure from your bite. I know I'm addicted to it, but I think it's a reasonable reaction to an unreasonable situation." I looked down. "It's not going to matter."

  "Let's say it does," she said. "Let's say you decide to live."

  "I won't."

  "Let's say you do. Is that how you want to live? Like her?"

  "I won't have the slightest trouble breaking this addiction," I said. "In fact, I think I went cold turkey two nights ago. The last thing I want is your fangs in me."

  "Perhaps, but you're a wreck, and it's going to get worse."

  "I'm a wreck because I'm so angry and I haven't eaten in two days. I haven't exercised, either. And all I have to do in here is sleep."

  "And because, as much as it disgusts you, you want me to bite."

  "So? Want and need aren't the same thing."

  "I took you because I thought you needed to see it. I still think you needed to see it, even if you deny it. I should have anticipated your reaction, but I was so focused on what I thought you needed, I didn't even think about it. I'm sorry. It's one of my shortcomings. I took you because I care about you."

  "And did you care about me while dragging me up here by my neck?"

  "Yes, but I've already told you how hard it is to control my temper. I'm not proud of it."

  "The police have a term for how you treat me."

  "I know."

  "Edie probably has terms for women who accept it."

  "I know."

  "You touch me with your fangs, and understand, I'm considering it rape. I don't care if I'm your blood slave anymore. You want my blood, you're going to have to take it. I'm not giving it to you."

  "I want you to consider something."

  "What?"

  "I am sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing. I think I was, but I also understand I did it wrong. I'm sorry for doing it wrong. She was just a meal, Melissa, even if it was a lot more to her than it was to me. But what we do is at least as much to me as it is to you."

  "Get out."

  "Promise you'll think about it."

  "What else do I have to do in here?"

  "That's a good point, but I'll be sending your pencils and fresh pads up. You're back on restricted privileges at least until I know you won't do something foolish, but I'll take you to the gym myself tomorrow. If you promise not to destroy it, I'll send a new tablet in, too. You can message me when you want to go."

  "And in exchange for your largess I, what? Forgive you? Give you my throat?"

  "No. I hope you'll think about what I've said, but the only 'strings' are that you eat and you don't abuse the staff."

  "I've never abused the staff."

  "I know. Those are the strings."

  "Get out."

  "Do your feet hurt?"

  "Yes. Get out."

  "If I send someone in with some massage cream, would that feel nice?"

  "Your staff shouldn't wait on me."

  "My staff likes you and anyone I send would be a volunteer."

  I started to cry again. "I'll send someone up," she said. And then she slipped out the door.

  * * * *

  I remained on restrictions for the better part of a week. I started calling her, "m'lady" again and even kneeling when she came in the room, and a few days later, she gave me run of the house, but not the studio.

  It took another week before I messaged her in the evening. "Where are you?"

  "My office."

  "Alone?"

  "Yes."

  Three minutes later, I knocked at her door, waited for permission, and entered.

  She was standing beside the windows, looking out. When she turned around, she wasn't smiling, but she wasn't glaring, either.

  "Did you come to ask me to kill you?"

  "No."

  "Scream?"

  "No."

  "Rant?"

  "With all due respect, m'lady, shut up."

  I crossed the room and, immediately in front of her, knelt in front of her. "Do you hate me?" I asked, my head bowed.

  She set her hands on me, one on the side of my head, the other on my shoulder. "No, Melissa."

  "I'm sorry, m'lady."

  "What are you sorry for?"

  "I'm sorry for my share of our fight. I'm sorry for breaking the tablet. I think I'm e
ven sorry for what I did to the shoes, a little bit anyway. I'm sorry I made you so angry."

  "I don't blame you for the shoes."

  "Do you forgive me for the rest?"

  "Yes. Do you forgive me?"

  I nodded. "Yes."

  "Are we all right?"

  "Almost," I said. "Do you feed from any other necks?"

  "No. You know I feed from the staff, but I use a wrist. There are other settings where I am offered a donor, and I use a wrist then, too."

  "Do you give them pleasure the way you do to me?"

  "I give them pleasure, but not the way I do to you."

  I looked up. "Why am I different?"

  "You are. I promise to tell you someday, but not yet."

  "When?"

  "When you're ready to see beauty."

  I thought about it. "What if I'm not?"

  "Then I'll tell you before." Before she drank me to death. "Now are we okay?"

  "Almost," I said. "Are you hungry?"

  "I could eat," she said with a grin. "But you have to offer."

  "Do you have more work?"

  "Nothing that can't wait."

  "I would really like if you brought me to your bed and took a very, very long time feeding from me."

  She lifted me to my feet, and we did just that.

  Rage

  She returned all my privileges to me. Several days after that, Maria messaged me, asking if she could speak to me. She invited me to the kitchen to help make cookies.

  "Am I allowed?"

  "Yes."

  "May I have some?"

  "A few."

  "On my way."

  She made me wash my hands, and together we made batches and batches of cookies of all different kinds. She let me sample a few. I had an immediate sugar rush and didn't want many.

  Finally she got to the point. "You know the lady sometimes doesn't come right out and say what she wants."

  I smiled. "She is usually very direct with me."

  "Yes, but when she wants something, but doesn't want to make it an order, then she tells me, and I find a way of telling you, or my daughter, or whoever it is. Even if she makes it a request, it is still interpreted as an order."

  "I understand. What is it she wants but isn't willing to order?"

  "You know she can't help how she treats you. She can't help but show you off. It's part of what she is."

  "I know."

  "She's fighting it. There are events coming up, and she has vowed not to take you, because if she does, she knows she'll put you on display, and she knows you hate it."