Archive for January, 2013

V. Tension

She knelt on the ottomon.


Her thighs were held wide open by a spreader bar, her bent legs further immobilized by coils of royal purple tying upper to lower. Her arms were folded and bound behind her back. She was vaguely aware of the rope holding her upright. Her gaze was forced straight ahead by a posture collar. The ache of her bondage was balanced by the dull throb of her nipples ached under the clips that were biting on the sensitive flesh.


It would have been too much if it weren’t for the vibrator that was hell bent on driving her to distraction. Off. On. Fast. Slow. Slower. Fastest. Slow. Always pushing her to the edge but always stopping just shy of any satisfaction.


She didn’t know how long she had been kneeling there as Bill had worked around her. She’d heard the clicking of the keyboard and the buzzing of the fax machine. She heard him answering the phone but couldn’t make out any of the words being said, she was so lost in her own world.


She only knew her Master’s presence with the occasional smack from a crop that urged her straighten her back.


It was agony.


It was exactly what she wanted.


The door opened. She had trouble focusing, but whoever that it was, it wasn’t a guard.


She whimpered. Her Master hadn’t said anything about visitors and she had never been this exposed since the party. If anything, she felt even more exposed because she didn’t have her mask to hide behind.


Smack. “Now, now, Belle. That’s now how we greet our guest.”


She squealed and tried to get out a “good evening” but if the laughter was anything to go by, she didn’t think it that successful.


“So this is the infamous Belle,” the voice said.


“You approve, Eric?” her Master asked.


“I have come to appreciate that you have a fine eye,” this Eric said. “She is exquisite.”


She yelped as her vision was blocked and her nipple cruelly twisted.


“You’ll have to give me the address of that party so I can find one of my own.”


“You don’t have the patience to keep one.”


She heard her Master’s chair roll along the floor before his rough fingers found her clit. She bucked as much as her bonds would allow.


“They’re like instruments. Keep them wound just tight enough to make them sing.

She heard her moans grow louder and more desperate, keens that that were wordless begging.


“I think she’s about to break under the tension,” Eric remarked idly.


His finger move just so as the vibrator kicked onto its highest speed and despite herself she finally came with a hoarse cry, sobbing as she finally got the release she’d been denied for so long.


There were tsking noises. She didn’t know who was making them. She didn’t care either.


“In fact, she just did.”


“And normally I’d be quite disappointed,” Fingers fished into her sensitive pussy and pulled out the vibrator. She could only moan weakly as she felt like she was moments from falling over. “But she lasted well over an hour.” The same fingers stroked her like a beloved pet. “I am proud.”


She smiled and muttered a sleepy thank you. She was sure it was as coherent as her greeting.


“As you know, Eric, she has started attending events with me.” Some noise in the background and she felt her arms being lowered.


“So I’ve seen. She’s making quite the buzz.”


Ropes began to fall and her arms screamed with the pain of pins and needles as blood came rushing back into the limbs.


“She looks pretty. But she could be stunning. And that’s where your progeny come in.”


Her collar came off. Then the clamps. Another fresh wave of pain and another moan.


“I want Pam and Scarlett to take her shopping. Keep her appropriate but better show off the beauty she has been graced with.


The ropes on her legs were next. Then the spreader bar came off. Shaking, her legs finally gave out and she fell forward, but was easily caught, and carefully rearranged in the center of the ottomon. Her eyes felt heavy.


“Scarlett would be thrilled to be reunited with this one, I’m sure.” His hand trailed her sweat-soaked back.


She made a noise of approval. She’d seen her Mistress when she’d been running errands for Master but they hadn’t played since that night.


“I’m sure she would be happy to share if you asked nicely.”


She didn’t know what to think. She was too tired to think. Her Master’s voice dropped and started speaking soothingly in her ear as he loosened her gag.


“Sleep my pet. The Sheriff and I have business to discuss.”

She nodded and curled up as much as her achy limbs would allow, their low voices lulling herself to sleep, a tired smile on her face.


IV. Super Hero Power Suit

A weight landed on her chest with a dull thud and as she tried to regain her breath the refrains of “Mommy, mommy, mommy!” filled the air.

“Morning sweetie,” she said sleepily as she gave Tristan a kiss on the top of his head. She glanced over at the alarm clock. Six thirty. She’d be willing to wager he’d been up longer than that, but somehow Rosa had managed to keep him contained until now. Luckily, Rosa was a better morning person than she was.

“I’m a hero today!”

She tickled him. “You’re always my hero, silly!”

He began to giggle and squirm his way out of her arms. “But a official hero!” he proclaimed.

Ah Superhero Day at day care. It may as well have been Christmas as excited as Tristan was. It was the only thing he’d spoken of the past week. One of the many things they were doing was making their own “costume” by painting shirts and “capes”(pillowcases) today. She knew that he’d come covered in paint, extremely happy and completely exhausted, which would be perfect because it’d make it easier to put him down tonight. Her mom could take her notion that daycare is only for “those too poor to hire a nanny” and shove it.

“Well, Mr. Hero,” she said. “Go ask Rosa for some breakfast, okay? Mommy needs to get dressed.”

“Okay!” he chirped as he ran down the stairs. She idly noted that somehow his pajama top was on backwards. She would have sworn that it’d been put on the right way last night, but pushed the whole train out of thought of mind. At least he was wearing it.

Once he’d heard the morning debate about the merits of fruity pebbles versus corn flakes with actual fruit began, she set about her routine – a quick shower and just enough makeup to make her look presentable to the world at large. As she studied her closet for something to wear, she remembered the admonition from last night to wear “business attire.” That was unexpected, and certainly not sexy, but it was his call. Maybe she could dig out her lingerie to wear under it.

Fishing through her closet, she pulled out the one suit she owned and frowned at it. She’d only worn it a handful of times, when her mother had roped her into attending a few board meetings for some of her favorite charities. She’d smiled, nodded and otherwise offered her input only when asked. Her mom had all but patted her on the head after the last one, but had at least mercifully stopped insisting she attend after she’d gotten pregnant with Tristan.

She glanced at the label. Eight. She wrinkled her nose and tossed it on the bed. She’d need to go shopping. She’d lost most of the weight after he’d been born, but saw no point in fighting to get those last few pounds off. She liked her body as it was, and the extra weight gave her what little curves she had. Besides, by that point, her husband had already seen fit to dump her for some vixen who apparently spent more times trying to find new ways to simulate fellatio than actually speaking and the large settlement he was giving her to make their marriage go away had been in the process of clearing. So fuck him. And her mom who had insisted that he’d be perfect for her. And herself for falling in love with him even though she should have known she’d never really be what he wanted from a spouse, no matter how hard she tried.

No. No more pity party. Today was her day. Night. Whatever. And she would own it.

“So let me get this straight,” Alyssa said as she daintly sat on the excuse of a stool better suited for handbags than people. “You have a date tonight.”


“With a guy.”

A nod as she shimmied into the non-nonsense A-line skirt.

“And you’re shopping for a suit?!”

“It does sound absurd when you put it that way, but yep.” The slipper glided up her thigh like butter. She turned in the mirror. Not bad.

“Does he have a suit fetish?” Alyssa teased.

She paused. That was a good question. She shrugged. “Maybe. It was what he asked me to wear.” Seconds later she could feel her friends eyes burning into her back. She turned around. “I can explain!”

“You’d better. Either he’s a control freak or he’s planning a really boring first date, neither of which sounds promising.”

“I will. Over lunch. Now which looks better the navy or the black?”


A grueling ninety minutes later she was digging into a delicious Chinese chicken salad. So pleased she was by the morning’s success that she even indulged herself and put on enough dressing to truly taste it and extra of those crispy wanton faux-crouton things. She was in heaven.

“All right, missy. Explain.”

She’d known Alyssa since elementary school. Third grade to be exact, when she’d transferred in. With the last name of “Garrison” she’d bumped Andrew Grimley out of his usual spot behind her. Her eight year-old self had been inordinately pleased by the development that she’d immediately welcomed her warmly and they’d been fast friends ever since.

“So you remember the party last month?”

Alyssa had been the one to introduce her to The Master and nominate her for membership.

“How could I forget?”

She’d also been the one that had helped her settle in with that mint bath the next morning when she’d woken up an achey mess. It was an awesome ache, but it’d been a distracting one and she didn’t know exactly what Mistress had meant by that. Alyssa, in the scene – the actual scene, not just the party scene – had and had hooked her up. It was the best bath ever.

“I found him.”

Silence. She made Alyssa speechless twice in one day. That had to be a new record.

“You did?!” she squeaked, surprise now over. “How? Wait. Forget that. WHO?!”

She held a finger up to her mouth and pulled out her phone, and pulled up google and quickly pulled up his image before sliding it across the table.

Eyes went wide and her mouth formed a perfect little “o.” She wished she could take a picture, but her friend was still staring at the screen.

“No way,” she said in hushed tones. “Is he really a…” her voice trailed off.

She nodded. “An important vampire.” There was something else that she wanted to tell her about Bill Compton, but she couldn’t remember what it was. It was on the tip of her tongue, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember what it was. Oh well. She could tell her later. “You’d been on your knees in like the first thirty seconds had he let you.” She recounted every last detail that she could remember and Alyssa grilled her thoroughly. It almost felt like she was back in that room.

Alyssa whistled and pushed the phone back towards her, which she put back into her purse before she did something stupid like forget it at the restaurant.

“Sounds intense,” her friend finally said, concern obvious in her voice. “Are you up for it? I mean, you’ve never really done anything like this before.”

She appreciated that. And her friend was right to be worried. She’d played at the two parties, but she knew now that the Master was really only that in name. Alyssa had hinted towards that before, but this was the first time she’d really understood it. Bill Compton had a presence that the Master could never have, even at his most intimidating. If the Master had demanded half of what Bill Compton had, she probably would have left. But the vampire though…she did everything without hesitation, if not even eagerly. She knew she was probably in over her head, but it still felt like the right place to be. “I know,” she said. “but it just feels…”

Alyssa cut her off with a simple hand over her own and smiled at her. “You’re lucky to get that feeling. Just be careful. I don’t want him to break your heart like the Asshole did.” According to Alyssa, he wasn’t worthy of a name anymore. She’d taken up that habit if it weren’t for the fact that she knew that Tristan would be all too likely to start calling his dad that at the worst possible time. “And you will leave me a voice mail when you get home safe and we will have brunch tomorrow and discuss everything. And neither of those things is negotiable.”

She smiled broadly. “Deal.” She checked her watch and swore. She’d have to get going soon or else she’d be late to the super hero parade at daycare.

She flagged down her waiter.

“Check please.”


It was only when she walked out to the car that she remembered that she’d wanted to ask her friend if she’d ever heard of vampire kings before. Oh well. There was always next time.

III. Wallowing in three spoonfuls of ice cream.

“Absorbent and yellow and porous is he,” Sarah sang along as she picked up Tristan’s toys from off the floor and threw them into the bin next to the entertainment center. She sighed when she realized she had been doing it.

“Spongebob?” she muttered. “I’ve got to get out more often.”

She didn’t regret having Tristan – oh no, Tristan was one of the few truly positive things that had ever happened to her – she regretted that this wasn’t what she had imagined for herself.

Closing the chest, she walked over to the counter and picked up her glass of wine and sunk into the couch, putting her socked feet up on the coffee table, intent on enjoying having a clean living room for a few hours. The destructive power of toddlers was amazing, she was horrified of what her place might look like if she didn’t have a live-in to tidy up on a daily basis.

Picking up the remote she started flipping through channels before stopping on the classic movie channel. When the commercials ended a pre-Great Revelation vampire movie popped up. The movie was hardly five years. It was silly to think that it was a “classic” but the media had been rather stumped about what to do with those films. While some were fairly close to what vampires actually turned out to be, others were far off and it was now generally safer to just relegate them to classic channels as quaint and naive products of the past, like some of the more racist films of the first half of the century.

She sighed. A week and a half had passed since her foolish decision to drive down to Bon Temps and try to get her one-night-fling of a Master become something more. If she hadn’t heard from him by now, she didn’t expect to ever hear from him. She knew the guy code.

She flipped the channel over to the Game Show Network where an old rerun of Match Game ’73 was playing. Much better. Bad double entendres were exactly what the situation called for.

Twenty minutes later she was studying the freezer, looking for some Haagen Dazs to indulge in – if she was going to wallow, she fully intended to commit to it – and finally in the far back corner she found a lonely container of coffee ice cream. She peered in. Slightly frost-bitten but it would do. She was more disappointed that there were only a few spoonfuls left. She walked over to the chalk-board and added it to the shopping list for Rosa. She briefly considered going out to get some, but it was Rosa’s night off and she wasn’t about to wake up Tristan just for the sake of getting ice cream. She wasn’t that kind of callous. And some was better than none. Popcorn just didn’t comfort the soul in the same way.

Digging out a spoon she had it halfway in her mouth when the phone rang. And of course her phone was in her purse. She ran over to it, trying to not choke no her spoon as she did so. She pulled that out of her mouth as she reached it, digging into it, thanking her lucky stars she’d actually placed it in its designated pocket for once.

“Hello?” she said on what she thought might be the last ring before voice mail.


He called! He actually called! She was about to replay when he continued.

“You will not speak, only listen.”

She shut her mouth. That was kind of cold.

 “You will knock on the door precisely at 9:00 pm tomorrow night. You will be wearing business attire. You will have an envelope in your hand with two lists: one with things you are curious to try and one with hard limits. You will give the envelope to the guard and then you will be led to my office where a stack of papers needing to be sorted and file will be there with along with a note containing any instructions you may need. You will not speak to anyone as you attend your task. I will collect you when I am ready for you. Deviate and your mind will be wiped of all encounters between us and you will be sent on your way.

I am doing this because I see potential in you. But do not mistake my concern for you as a sign of love or affection for you will only be disappointed. If this does not please you then stay away. Make the right decision Belle. You will make it on your own, for no one knows yourself better.

Choose wisely.”

There was a click and the line went dead.

She stared at the phone for a moment before scrambling to grab a pen and paper to jot down everything he had said. The vampire she’d met at the party had been warm and charming. The vampire she’d formally met was cold and distant. She wondered which one was wearing the mask.

She looked at the clock.

10:45 pm.

Less than 24 hours to make up her mind. But then she didn’t really have to decide, did she? She already knew her answer. The last sorry spoonfuls of ice cream forgotten, she retrieved her laptop from the den and returned to the kitchen table and powered it on.

She had homework to do.

II. The water bottle

“Belle,” he repeated; his steps measured and deliberate.

Whatever positives she’d first detected in his voice had faded out, leaving surprise. No, surprise wasn’t the right word for it. Annoyance, maybe. Or irritation. She took a deep breath and straightened her spine. She wouldn’t be cowed.

She just hoped her bladder would hold out. Why did she start on that third bottle of water again? A glance at the clock told her she’d been kept waiting almost two hours. Right. The wait had been agonizing.

She stood up and offered her hand to the vampire. “Sarah Jane,” she said. “And you’re Bill Compton.”

The irritation melted away slightly as he shook her hand. Not much. His voice was still near icy levels.

“I’m pretty sure that it goes against the Master’s rules to contact other members in this kind of manner. Sit.”

She did. And she started playing with the bottle again. “But you are not a member,” she said confidently. “No one on the Facebook group knew who you were.”

“And is everyone that participates in the parties a member of the group?”

She thought he might be teasing her. It was hard to tell.

“Well…” Damn. He did have a point. The people on Facebook were the ones who knew each other in real life. That still made up less than fifty percent of the total group though. She hadn’t thought that argument through. Stupid bladder. She did then think of one he couldn’t counter. “The Master would never willingly invite a Vampire to join,” she said triumphantly. “I think he might be a member of the Fellowship of The Sun.”

Bill – it was weird calling him that name in her head – seemed to be amused by that point.

“How did you find me?”

She was rather proud of herself for this, though she tried to keep her smile to herself. She cleared her voice and began, “I was making lunch and had the news on in the background. They were replaying your interview from the night before and I thought I heard your voice. I replayed it a few times, and my conviction grew stronger, but I still wasn’t sure. So I went onto YouTube and watched some other clips and then I was certain it was you. Between your accent and the formality of your speech…” she shrugged and blushed slightly. “It’s different. I like it. Anyway, after figuring out who matched the voice finding where you lived was the easy part.” And it didn’t even cost her that much money either.

“And if you had been wrong? Had it not been me? Had I denied you entry, what then? Why not just call?”

She shrugged. “I wanted a chance to plead my case in person. You can’t hang up on me if I’m sitting here.”

He sighed. “I could still glamour you.”

“You could,” she said. “But you won’t. You could have done that at the party and you didn’t.”

“Technically, I did,” he said. “I fed on you and glamoured you so you wouldn’t give me away.”

Oh. Huh. She should be upset about that, shouldn’t she? But he was a vampire so…

“Is that why you were there?”

He nodded.

“And I was just dinner?”

He nodded again.

She slumped in her seat. She wondered if she could find a way to hide under the couch and escape.

He seemed to take pity on her and smiled. “For what it is worth, I enjoyed more than I expected. You were a pleasant surprise.”

She looked up at him and smiled shyly. “Thanks.” She sighed. “But I’m guessing this all means you aren’t actually a Dominant are you?”

He shook his head. “Not really, no. I don’t mind enjoying myself now and then but I have plenty else to keep me busy.”

She stood up, almost crushing the bottle as she did so. “Then I suppose that there is no reason for me to be here. I’m sorry to have bothered you, Sir.” As she opened the door, she heard his voice.


She stopped and turned.

“Why did you come? Why did you want more?”

She shrugged. “I want something for me. I’ve never had that. Never had someone look at me the way you did that night.” She offered a weak smile. “It felt good.” She looked down. “I should have known I was being naïve. Mom always said I was.” She flashed a smile again. “Have a good evening, Sir.”

A sigh.

“Sit back down,” he said. “Perhaps we can work something out.”

She almost didn’t dare to be optimistic, but quickly and eagerly sat back down before he could change his mind.

There was a knock on the door.


“Majesty, Alabama is on the line.”

He rose and addressed her in a businesslike manner. “I have business to attend to.” He turned to the guard. “Get the girl a pad of paper, a pen and an envelope.” The guard nodded and left.

“While I am gone you will write me an essay on exactly what you are looking to get out of this. You will put it in the envelope, seal it and hand it to the guard. Put your phone number on the outside. I will read it and if I deem it worthy I will call you. Otherwise we will have no further contact, understood?” He paused, eying her. “And you will not leave this room until that is finished. If you do so, it will be as if this offer was never made.

She nodded. She could do that. Maybe. She eyed the bottle wearily. She should have started pacing or something instead.

He looked into her eyes “And one final thing…”


Forty five minutes later she knocked on the door, handed the guard the sealed envelope and ran out to the bathroom so fast she didn’t wonder if she could have rivaled a vampire. As she sighed in relief she wondered what kind of man would make such a rule. She was washing her hands as it came to her.


She smiled and whispered a quick prayer asking for her essay to be accepted.

Now presentable looking, she returned to the foyer, said farewell to the guards and headed out back to the night humming to herself as she started her journey home. She no longer felt naive, she felt optimistic. It was a good feeling to have.

I. Arrival

She glanced over at the GPS, again muttering a word of thanks to whomever had invented this life-saving device, she’d learned too long ago that Google Maps were apt to fail in the smaller towns of Louisiana.

She eased her Audi A3 onto the dirt road, thankful for the xenon headlights that lit her way. She was nervous enough as it was without being able to see more than five feet ahead of her thanks to the moonless night. It was a good thing too, she might not have noticed the guy with a gun imploring her to stop without it.

Wait, her brain said. Gun?

She stepped on the break to gradually slow. It probably wasn’t a good idea to startle the men with guns.

The guy looked like he was some kind of paramilitary guy, if television wasn’t lying to her.

He tapped the window and she obligingly lowered it.

“Name?” he asked, clipboard in hand.

“Sarah Jane Forysth,” she said automatically, without thinking.

“Your name isn’t on the manifest,” he said after looking at his list critically.

Oh. She tried to think quick.

“I wanted to surprise him,” she said with her best smile. She hoped it wasn’t too awkward.

The guard didn’t seem to like her answer. He said something into a walkie-talkie and stared at her without blinking while he waited for a reply

“He doesn’t recognize you,” he finally said. “Explain yourself.”

Shit. She really should have called. At least that way way her rejection wouldn’t have cost her a two-and-a-half hour drive and an embarrassing rejection by creepy guards. She had to think fast. She didn’t care for that implied “or else” at the end of his sentence.

“Belle,” she said almost desperately. “Tell him my name is Belle. We met the other week at the Masquerade.”

 He looked skeptical.

 “Please tell him,” she said. “If he still doesn’t want to talk to me, I’ll go.”

She must have seemed pathetic enough because he started talking into his walkie-talkie again.

He shook his head and she felt crushed. She really should have known better. Man she was glad that she hadn’t told anyone other than her nanny that she was going out. How would she explain her failure?

“Don’t know how you did it,” he said, “but it’s your lucky night.”

She perked up. Really? Really?

“Drive to the end of the road and park in the driveway,” he said before he waved her along.

“Thank you, sir!” she said beaming as she rolled up the window and followed his directions. Once she had set the parking break she realized she could feel her heart beating so fast it threatened to burst from her chest.

Calm. Calm yourself she told herself. This was just getting into the door. Just because she had reached the house didn’t mean he’d agree to anything else.

Inhale. Exhale. Deep breath. Right.

She got out of her car and absently locked it, staring up at the manor. She thought manor sounded right. Like a plantation house, but not quite as big. It was clearly well taken care of. He had money. “Mom would approve,” she muttered to herself wryly. Her mother had stressed the importance of marrying well. Not that they didn’t have their own money, but added money to money was security she’d been told. She wasn’t sure she bought that.

“Ms. Forsyth?” it was another guard dressed in black. She wondered if it was really necessary.  Though she supposed that if he had them outside, it’d make sense they were also inside. “Come with me.”

She followed him inside, feeling warming immediately as she was lead towards the sitting room.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she was told. “would you care for some water?”

She nodded as he left.

A few moments later he returned with a bottle. “His Majesty will be with you when he’s ready.”

She took the bottle and sat back down and began to wait.

And wait.

She emptied the bottle and waited some more.

“Bathroom?” she asked the guard watching the doorway.

He pointed and she went.

She started another bottle.

Halfway through the third bottle, he appeared.

“Belle,” he said.

She wasn’t sure how to interpret that greeting. She would know soon enough though. This was her chance. And she wasn’t going to blow it.


“None taken,” he said. There were worst things that could be said about him, and besides, he genuinely enjoyed her company to let a comment like that upset him.

He waited until he was down a few curves before removing the mask; no reason to attract cops who tended to have annoying perceptive vision at the most inconvenient times.

“It was most enjoyable. I’m not sure which part I enjoyed more, the lovely ladies we got our hands on, or pissing off “The Master.” He started laughing. “You know he was compensating.”


Bill watched as Belle scampered off back into the throngs of the party, he had no doubt she’d have problems finding partners going forward.

He buttoned up his coat with no small bit of satisfaction and it was gratifying to have people calling after them for next time as they left the party. When they reached the outside, he leaned against one cars surrounding their own ride, enjoying the night air for a few quiet moments.

He smiled at Scarlett. “But that image works so well for me,” he said. “and I see no reason to change it. Vampires are always caught off guard when one doesn’t meet the expectation of “vampire,” even when you’ve risen through the ranks.

He shrugged and unlocked the car.

“It is a pity for all of us that you remained clothed. Though I have no doubt you’d stolen what little attention was left to grab had you done so.”