N.B. This chapter gets a lot heavier than those that have gone before, and the sex is pretty violent. It gets me very wet, but if it's not your thing then don't worry the plot will still make sense if you skip it xxx
If it is your thing then I hope you enjoy!
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Astrid is a bright young woman with striking auburn hair and hundreds of freckles. Every second she can Astrid spends outside, fair weather or foul. Her interest in Amelia was once purely platonic. Their shared love of music and freedom to stay up most nights gambling or dancing led to Astrid feeling quite jealous when Amelia seemed to dump her midway through the evening.
Amelia took a long while to trust her friend with even a sniff of the truth. Now there is no mortal retainer she trusts more. Amelia never knew anyone like her in life. Nothing bothers her, nothing disgusts her. Nothing scares her at all. At the same time as they have grown to know each other better. Astrid respects Amelia's peculiarities, and the limits on the time they can spend together.
Tonight, Astrid and her husband are hosting a gathering of free minded individuals. At Amelia's arrival with Eleanor in tow, Astrid's smile must confirm the elder's worst suspicions of what's to come. Sounds also carry from the smoking room that could mean the men's card game is deteriorating into something seedier and more energetic. Amelia doesn't dare let go of Eleanor's hand yet. She smiles a little sheepishly at Astrid and gives her a wink as she hurries Eleanor downstairs to the playroom in the cellar. Astrid stares indignantly after them as they trail snow through her hallway.
"So much potential." Eleanor frets. "What is it you think you will teach me, humiliating me like this?"
Amelia bolts the door behind them and before she can answer the question, Eleanor starts to undress, stripping away layers of courtly finery leaving a trail from the stairs to the four poster bed in the centre. That bed is the least intimidating piece of furniture in this room, but it is the only thing designed with a vampire's potency in mind. They will have to abstain from the beautifully made stockade, the well worn saw horse, the narrow little bench that Astrid loves so much. Amelia knows they would be kindling in no time with Eleanor's strength.
Eleanor lies down in the middle of the bed like a virgin bride, stiff as a board with her knees spread.
"You could at least try to relax." Amelia says, a little hurt.
"Fucking well make me."
"Alright." Amelia walks around to the little nightstand by the wall. "If that's what you need." She carefully washes her hands clean of all traces of Eleanor's vitae. Then she picks up the carpet bag she prepared last night and sets it beside the bed with a metallic clink. Eleanor's eyes snap up to meet hers defiantly.
Amelia takes control, pushing with both blood and will. Felix is her sire. The ancient monster made her well.
"Keep your beautiful eyes on mine, Eleanor. Keep them wide open for me. I need you to listen."
The angry edge softens significantly as Amelia speaks.
"This is a safe place for us. So you can take the night off from worrying about the anarchs and the tremere and the nosferatu. The only people welcome are those I have invited. You summon no one. Understand?"
"Completely." Eleanor answers sharply. "Please get on with it."
"Not so fast." Amelia pauses. Eleanor's eyes stay on hers as ordered, wide open and unblinking. "I might not have my hands on you, I might not be staring into your eyes, but you've already given me everything I need. I'm already inside you, Eleanor. So open out your legs as wide as you can, throw open your arms. Do it now, and keep yourself open for me tonight.
"To think I had such high hopes for you." Eleanor laments as she reaches out stiffly to all four corners of the bed.
"Perfect." Amelia moves purposefully, fastening leather lined steel cuffs around Eleanor's slender wrist and ankles. They have been custom crafted, forge welded onto the mighty chains by the same artisans that constructed the emperor's long guns. They are cleverly set into a two tonne block of polished stone, which Amelia now reveals by roughly pulling away all the sheets and feather mattresses. Only a stout sail cloth separates Eleanor's naked back from the cold stone, and her arse rests directly on the block. She yelps in surprise.
"What is this!"
Amelia takes a step back and savours this moment as Eleanor has an experimental wriggle.
"Don't fret love." Amelia adjusts a little mechanism well out of Eleanor's reach, and the chains pull a little bit tighter "If anything untoward happened I could free the chains from the granite with a simple lever. Not the bracelets, mind." She smiles sheepishly. "Definitely need the keys for those. Now I have heard enough from you. Open your mouth as wide as you can and keep still." Amelia commands.
It's worth taking time to appreciate the beauty of this, Amelia sighs. Eleanor's indignant expression, her brow furrowed even as she must keep her eyes and now her mouth wide open. It's a relief for Amelia to assert herself, commanding obedience by blood.
The elder gives a little whimper as Amelia sets a polished marble ball as far back as it will penetrate, and fastens the gag tightly in place. The gag's opal colour and swirling pattern contrast the luscious red ring Eleanor's lips make. The gold chain makes it look like obscene jewelry. The thick buckle out of sight hidden by flowing black tresses.
Now that lovely face finally becomes the picture of fear.
"Steady now." Amelia says gently. "It's worth pushing it back away from your teeth. Don't want to mess up your smile now, do I?"
Eleanor shakes her head just a fraction, and her barely understandable reply sounds almost respectful.
Amelia cups Eleanor's heavy breast with one hand and rolls the teat gently.
"Be honest darling." Amelia says. "You can barely feel that, right?"
Eleanor grunts her affirmative.
"I'm the same. It's sad, don't you think?"
Silence.
"Well we can't have silence for 'no'." Amelia smiles down at the newly helpless vampire. "Two for 'no', if you please."
Indignation comes through strongly as Eleanor makes a single sound in reply. The numbness of the kindred condition is sad. But if it can't be overcome, it's not worth complaining about.
"Very soon I am going to make myself and my lovers an offering to you, Eleanor. I think it's a shame that the price we pay for resilience and beauty is the loss of sensation."
A single little moan is Amelia's reward as she drags her nails firmly against Eleanor's ribs.
"You like that?" Amelia asks.
Silence.