Blood Slave

She walked into the darkened room feeling the cool concrete beneath her bare feet.  The soft glow of candlelight cast an eerie glow bringing the shadows to life all around her.  Her hands trembled as she walked toward the throne, the outline of the Master she was to serve seeming as still as the concrete floor.  A shiver moved through her small frame, not sure if the cool waft of air that blew against the light cotton of her gown or the fear of the unknown situation before her was to blame.  The long months of rituals were behind her and she knew how to serve the man awaiting her, at least in theory. 

As she finally advanced to the throne she lowered her eyes in supplication.  Her hands lowered to the hem of her plain white gown and she lifted it above her head casting it aside nervously.  Closing her eyes she took a few deep breaths before lowering to her knees, her silken hair caressing the coolness of her bare flesh as she waited for his command.  The coolness against her knees caused her trembling to increase and it seemed an eternity before he stood.

With predatory likeness he walked around her slowly, his large hand lifting a long strand of her raven hair, enjoying the smooth silkiness as he rubbed the strands between his fingers.  "Stand," he demanded harshly wishing to inspect this blood slave more fully before he accepted her worth. 

She stood on trembling legs, her hands moving behind her and clasping together as she had been trained.  She could almost feel his eyes roaming her body and forced herself to remain absolutely still.  As his cool hand touched her shoulder she couldn't stop the small start that was unintentional.

This one would do well; he thought to himself his hand landing in a firm slap to her bare ass for her misconduct.  She only jumped slightly at the sting from his hand and he was pleased that she was able to control herself so well on her first service.  "Lift your hair, slave," he demanded of her.

Her hands moved to twist her long hair and pile it on top of her head holding it in her hands as she attempted to quell the trembling that moved through her.  A long finger traced from her chin to her neck, pausing over the pulse of the artery there for a few moments.  He could smell the heady scent of her blood moving just below the ivory flesh and his fangs descended.

A deep growl escaped him, "Release your hair slave."  Immediately her hands fell allowing the long silken strands to fall down her bare back as her hands moved to clasp again behind her.  Her body instantly became aroused at the low growl and she shifted somewhat to stop the dull ache between her thighs.  She was rewarded with another firm slap to her ass.  Her arm was grabbed roughly as he led her to the side of the large room where a red velvet covered settee was placed.  "Sit", the one word was spoken harshly and without thought she sat down primly on the edge.

The softness of the material was even stimulating against her bare flesh as a soft groan escaped her lips.  "Lay back", he demanded allowing the small sound for the moment as his mind submitted to the blood lust. 

As she lay back on the soft cushioning, her hands tightened in small fists at her side to stop her hips from arching upward.  She had never been so aroused and yet he had not even touched her in a way that would cause such a reaction. "Spread", he demanded roughly the need for blood outweighing any other desire at the moment.

Parting her legs slightly she was confused as her training had not prepared her to move this far.  With little patience his hands moved to her inner thighs and roughly pulled them apart widely.  She gasped out loud at the suddenness of his movements and he growled loudly.  His head lowered to her inner thigh and his fangs slid into the artery there deeply. 

As he drank she cried out at the overwhelming desire that flooded through her body.  Arching her hips up, she strained against his mouth the sounds of him consuming her blood almost causing her to come undone immediately.  Never had she felt such unbelievable need, the deeper the pull the more she wanted him to consume.  "Don't stop," she begged desperately straining to push even closer.  Even as her body became weakened from the loss of blood she wanted more.  Brilliant lights danced before her eyes as she felt her body release, his hands held her tightly to his mouth as he drank her in like a heady wine.  As darkness overcame her, he licked the wound closed completely satiated.  The faint beating of her heart assured him she would soon heal and be prepared to feed him again when he allowed her the pleasure.  He left her to rest on the settee a pleased smile finding his face.

Charity awoke several hours later nestled against the crushed velvet, her body lethargic as she tried to rise up on her arms.  Tears of humiliation slid down her pale cheeks at how easily she had given over to him.  She had fought against her training for the last year to the point of nearly causing her own demise.  When starvation failed to arouse any sympathy, in truth she had only been able to go without eating for one full day, she had become aggressive to the point that the trainers took several precautions before coming near her. Her mind had become so weary with the constant fight against her own nature that she had been somewhat broken for the last week.  Unable to lift her own slight body weight, she gave up the fight and leaned back against the soft cushioning of the settee and allowed her mind to wander back to the day she was brought to this forsaken castle.