Companion

Inspired from the digital painting "Black", by WLOP on DeviantArt.

I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

***

Come...

The word was silent, an itch in the darkest corner of my mind as the curtain rose on the second act. The crowded theatre quieted, but the tug in my gut made my mind race. It was a sensation I hadn't felt in a hundred years, and I gritted my teeth as I tried to ignore it. Glancing down, I saw that my fingers had bunched the silk of my dress into a fist, and I slowly relaxed my hands.

Come...

More insistent now, but just as silent. The play was over, but the crowds had yet to disperse. The order was an urge, a deep, dark desire that pulled at me in ways I had forgotten. It slipped across time and space, and made a home in the corners of my being that no one knew existed.

I already knew that I couldn't resist, but still I struggled.

Had I forgotten my promises?

No. I still remembered them as if I had spoken the words only a moment before.

Power in return for bondage. Pleasure in return for obedience.

But then he had abandoned me, and I never wanted any of it again. I swallowed, my fingernails digging into my palms as the patrons flowed out of the lobby and onto the street in the wintry evening air.

Come...

The command chimed in my mind like a bell, clear as the water of a mountain stream. It wasn't a word so much as a feeling, a tugging sensation that pulled at me silently, inexorably, and that demanded obedience. For a moment, the interior of the London cab disappeared around me, replaced by the image of a darkened castle blanketed in snow

I straightened suddenly in my seat and my long black hair tumbled over my pale skin, my shoulders bared by the black evening dress.

"What's wrong?" Alexander's handsome face was concerned as he turned to me in the cab, placing a calming hand on my arm. "Niki?" he asked, leaning closer.

I flinched unintentionally as his fingers reached up to brush my cheek, my mind flashing back to the present. "I..." My heartbeat was thundering in my ears, and I couldn't tell whether it was with excitement or fear.

It's been so long...

"I must go..."

My suitor's eyes were wounded as his brow furrowed and his square jaw tightened with worry and confusion. "Now?" he asked. "Is something the matter? Was it something I said?" He looked quite dashing in his tuxedo — his tousled hair golden and just a bit too long, his broad shoulders perfectly fitting the tailored jacket, his blue eyes twinkling and guileless.

"No. No, I —" I brushed my hair behind my ear. Being taken to the theatre by a delightful man had seemed a wonderful diversion, but now there was only one place I wanted to go. Only one place I

could

go. My eyes shone with desperation, but I just shook my head. "I'm sorry." My voice was a whisper.

I reached forward and tapped the driver on the shoulder. "Pull over here."

The man obeyed silently, but Alexander's hand gripped my arm as I reached for the door.

"What's going on?" he demanded, his voice rough and distressed. Even in his shocked dismay, I could sense his desire to be gallant, to protect me from whatever was happening. "I'm not letting you out into the snow, alone on a random street corner this late at night."

The words drove into my heart like shards of glass, but I forced myself to speak. "Don't touch me." My expression was hard and cold as ice, my tone brittle.

I could tell that those three words cut deep, and he pulled back, stunned, as though I had struck him. Not wanting to see his sad, confused expression, I turned and stepped out through the curtain of drifting snowflakes.

I must have surprised him more than I thought, because it was several seconds before I heard his voice call out to me. "Niki, wait! Your coat!"

I ignored the words and disappeared into the gathering dark. The cold gathered around me but, try as it might, couldn't penetrate my soft skin. The snowflakes fell on my shoulders and softly coated my hair, caressing me like little kisses. I knew Alexander would soon leave his cab and try to find me, but I would be long gone.

A twinge of regret surfaced for a moment, but I brushed it aside. It had been a century, but I was being called back to his side. Nothing else mattered.

It was not a call I could ignore. And, despite my attempts, I wasn't sure I wanted to.

***

I watched as the countryside of Eastern Europe flashed by outside the train window: mountains and meadows and streams and mile after mile of dark forest. I only turned when I heard a gruff voice demand to see my papers.

I turned. "Yes, of course." My voice was soft and unassuming. I reached inside my long jacket and produced my passport and travel documents.

The stocky man in the conductor's hat and button-covered jacket sniffed through his Stalin-esque walrus moustache. "Nikita Boroskaya," he mumbled aloud to himself. The man glanced from the photo to me: to my long, dark hair, my slim, beautiful body, my face like a sculpture in porcelain... Or, at least, that was how

he

had always described me.

Nodding, the man handed back my passport. "Welcome home."

Home...

The word hung in the air after he had passed me by, resonating in my mind. It was a word with so many meanings, with associations and emotions that followed along behind like each train carriage followed the one before it. And then, as all the memories crashed through my mind, I was catapulted into the past.

***

I was frightened, a bundle of nerves that bounced on her toes as she waited.

The library was vast and dark, but as I stood in the edge of the firelight it felt like the entire world had narrowed to the tiny circle of flickering warmth. A thick red rug carpeted the floor and several richly upholstered chairs were gathered around the hearth. A precarious stack of books teetered on a small table by a leather couch, and tracing down the spines with my eyes I realized they were all great classics of literature.

To distract myself, I read down the pile.

The Odyssey.

The Ramayana.

I had already been selected, which meant that the hard part should have been over. My family would be richly rewarded. My town would continue to flourish.

Pride and Prejudice.

War and Peace.

And I? I was the lucky one... I would be granted unimaginable power.

Hamlet.

A Thousand and One Arabian Nights.

Still, my mind managed to latch onto things to worry me:

What if he's frightening? What if he wants to hurt me?

And then, the thoughts that should have been much further down my list of fears but which were perfectly natural for an 18-year-old girl:

What if he's ugly? What if he thinks

I'm

ugly? What if he doesn't want me after all...?

Dracula.

I gasped as a flicker of movement registered in the corner of my eye and I looked up to see a tall, slim man leaning casually against the mantle and watching me.

"I do apologize if I frightened you." The man's voice was a smooth bass, his smile genuine and warm, and I relaxed in spite of myself, though my hand pressed to my chest could still feel the racing of my heart like a bird fluttering against the bars of its cage.

His face was pale in the firelight, but not unnaturally so. If the rumors were true, he rarely ventured outside. His features were well-defined, and as he stepped into the firelight I felt my stomach clench again as I realized how handsome he was.

His age was impossible to tell. His skin was unlined and his face was beardless; he could have been 25 or 50 and I wouldn't have known the difference. But it was his eyes that captured me — so dark they could have been called black, and deep as bottomless wells of ink. As I stared into them, I caught a hint of firelight glinting in their depths, a flash of red for just a moment before I blinked and lost it.

"N-no, sir..." I managed to say, and bobbed an awkward curtsy. "I've been waiting for you."

He slid gracefully down into the couch and crossed his long legs. "So I see," he murmured, and reached out, resting a finger on the cover of the topmost volume in the pile. "You've been admiring my books? Do you recognize them?"

I swallowed. This was definitely a test, a final examination to make sure I had been adequately prepared for my role. "Yes, sir."

"Can you tell me who wrote them?" His voice was playful, and he could tell I knew that he wanted me to impress him.

I nodded. "Homer," my voice low but assured. I had read most, if not all, of the books in his tower of literature. "Valmiki. Austen. Tolstoy..." I rattled them off, my shoulders relaxing as I imagined I was back home with one of my tutors. My stomach rolled over again as his eyes roamed my body, from the swell of my breasts to my long, dancer's legs, but I just took a breath and finished my recitation.

A smile quirked across his mouth and he tilted his head in a nod of acknowledgement. "Very impressive," he murmured, and I felt a glitter of pleasure at the praise. "I am pleased that you are already so well-read," the man continued. "It means that we can focus on other aspects of your training."

"My training, sir?" I whispered. The cold ball reappeared in the pit of my stomach. I had known what was coming, but I still had no idea what to expect.

"Oh, yes," my new master replied, standing smoothly and slipping closer, the smile on his face calm and self-assured. He walked directly before the fire, but — as I had half-anticipated and half-feared — he cast no shadow.

I wanted to be afraid as he came to a halt before me and raised a slender finger, tipping my head back so I met his gaze, but there was nothing predatory about his face; only a quiet satisfaction. "Look into my eyes, Nikita," he ordered gently, revealing, for the first time, that he knew my name.

I obeyed. This time, when they flared with a glowing red flame, I couldn't look away. I stared into his black eyes with my starlit blue ones, my focus unwavering.

"Good..." I heard the murmur of his low voice echo up to my ears as he held my chin between his finger and thumb, and my body shivered again at the praise. "Look even deeper now..."

I felt my head begin to swim, and I tried to draw back.

Focus,

I ordered, blinking languidly.

Be still. Just look deeper. What does he want me to see?

It was probably another test.

I don't want to fail,

I told myself sternly, in the tone I'd used to keep myself up late at night to study and read and prepare to be chosen. The words became a mantra in my mind.

Don't fail. Don't fail. Don't fail.

Somewhere, another voice was murmuring words of its own, but it was hard to register them across the vast distance.

... deeper and deeper... relaxed and entranced... sleepier and sleepier...

Don't fail,

I continued to tell myself.

Don't fail. Don't fail. Don't fall... Wait...

And with that, I fell forward into the shadows between the flickering tongues of fire in his eyes.

***

The town of my childhood was as I remembered, the cobbled streets far older than the automobiles and people who now crowded them. I gave it one long look before I stuffed my hands into my pockets and stepped off the train platform, down the main road out of town, the pull becoming stronger the closer I grew to my destination.

That town — the town where I had been grown, where I had been trained to be beautiful, where I had been trained to please and to serve — was a place of my past. The last time I had visited was when the final member of my family had passed on, and I had not intended to return.

As I trekked into the mountains, the road turning into a dirt track, I wondered how much longer the town would prosper. Times were changing, and I knew it wouldn't be long before the skeptics had everyone convinced that the price wasn't worth paying.

One girl per generation, that was all Count Maximilian Vasiliev had requested. A companion. And, in return, the village would be blessed and favored.

But for how much longer?

The question didn't trouble me in the least. I had given the place everything I could, everything it had asked of me, and now neither one of us needed the other.

As soon as I felt far enough away from the town, I stopped and looked around. My hood was up, cloaking my face in shadow as I smiled.

Enough walking,

I thought.

It's been far too long since I flew.

Seconds later, where I had been standing, there was no trace of a slender woman in a dark coat with long, black hair.

In the sky, heading deeper into the mountains, a lone raven soared upward on the thermals.

***

I sank deeper into the void behind his eyes, barely registering as my own eyelids drooped and my body slumped forward into a pair of strong, steady hands.

I was falling, falling, falling through the dark.

Very good...

The words echoed through my mind, warm and deep and comforting.

It feels so good to open yourself up to me completely.

And it did. My body, far away, was full of a languid warmth as I was laid down on the soft cushions of the couch.

"Yes..." I murmured, not knowing or caring whether I was speaking silently, to myself, or aloud.

It feels so good to relax and listen...

"... relax and listen..." My voice was quieter now as I relaxed.

Not needing to speak, just relaxing and listening... falling deeper and deeper...

"... deeper..." I whispered softly, before realizing that I didn't need to speak. All I needed to do what listen.

Just relaxing and listening and obeying... listening and obeying...

Of course... That's why I was here. To listen and obey. Distantly, my head nodded ever so slightly.

That's good...

A glow of warmth and satisfaction at the praise, and... I gasped softly, my lips parting as I felt a hand on my body, sliding between my legs and up to the apex of my thighs.

Good to listen and obey... To listen and obey brings pleasure...

The air tingled on my lips as fingers slipped under my black skirt and began to circle my clit. Some part of my mind realized I had been dressed for this, the perfect package to be unwrapped by her new lord and master.

To listen and obey brings pleasure... It is your pleasure to obey...

I was in a realm beyond words, the echoing sounds sinking through my warm, thoughtless mind as all of my energy focused on the strong, skillful fingers that were brushing aside my final layers of defense and gliding across my dripping entrance.

It is your pleasure to serve...

yes...

To serve and to obey...

yes...

To obey and to serve and to pleasure...

yesss...

My body shuddered as I came, my thighs clenching together as my eyelids snapped open, seeing nothing but the deep, burning, commanding orbs above me. His bright gaze had an almost feverish intensity, and his lips moved as he continued to speak to me.

Open and blank and mindless, I soaked in his words as I stared deeply into his hypnotic eyes until the only sounds echoing through my empty mind were simple commandments.

Serve...

Obey...

Pleasure...

***

I was on my knees, my lips wrapped around something large and firm that pulsed as I flicked my tongue across the tip. My eyes slid languidly open and I realized I was taking his full, rigid length into my mouth, my saliva coating his cock evidence that I had been doing this for some time already.

I pulled back slowly, breathing in through my nose and hazily taking in my surroundings.

Master stood before me, his tall body throwing no shadow in the firelight but instead catching the glow of the flames so that it outlined his every hard, lean muscle. Even the sight of him sent a flicker of arousal through me, and I felt a burning fire between my legs.

I leaned forward and sucked his cock into my mouth with enthusiasm, one hand clasped around the back of his thigh and the other rapidly flickering across my clit. I could feel the tense muscles of his leg as he shifted his weight, a low groan in his throat egging me on.

I flicked my eyes up to meet his, but his eyes were clenched shut and his jaw was tight as he struggled to control himself. Moaning, I relaxed my throat and took him as deep as I could, feeling him pushing into my body until I could barely breathe. Then, I swallowed, feeling the muscles of my throat massaging Master's entire length.

He grunted and his eyes flashed open, dropping down to meet my own obedient, lustful gaze.

"Good girl..." he panted, his parted lips revealing a perfect set of even white teeth. "Now sleep for me..."

My vision went fuzzy. I heard my heart drum once in my ears, then a second time, and by the third drumbeat I was gone.

***

It was night, and my Maximilian had just finished feeding me a delicious rabbit steak, cutting up each morsel and lowering it to my mouth for me as I lounged on my back on the couch with my head in his lap. In between bites, he stroked my shining black hair absentmindedly and I dozed. The warmth of the fire blazing in the hearth rolled over me, and I enjoyed the waves of heat as they toasted my skin.

We frequently dined in the library, the room where I had first met my new master and partner and where he had taken the first steps in my new area of training.

The Count's companion...

I thought with a satisfied sigh. I had never really known what to expect — most of the girls who had been chosen had never been heard from again — but even what I had been able to glean from rumor ranged from vague to dangerously inaccurate.

Some held that the Count Maximilian Vasiliev was a cannibal and a necromancer, that he ate each girl sent to his castle in the mountains and was only using his magics to help the town so that he would have plenty of convenient food nearby.

Others believed that he was a reclusive alchemist, needing the fresh blood of a virgin every few years to fuel his dangerous, fantastical experiments.

Of course, these people were in the minority. Most simply respected his privacy, offered up their young women for his selection, and trusted that he would keep his promises — to keep the town flourishing and to take care of the girls they submitted into his care.

I was the only one who knew the truth that others could only guess at: Vampires were real, and one of them had taken me as his mortal counterpart.

After the first few nights, during which time he was still training me, he rarely entranced me with a simple trigger phrase. Instead, he would do it gently, pleasurably as we relaxed on the couch or in bed. His hands would tangle in my hair and stroke my temples, slowly extending lower to send shivers down the skin of my neck. His voice would begin, low and soothing, slipping into my mind and past what few defenses remained.

Before I knew it, I would be sinking, deeper and deeper, down into the darkness of pleasure and obedience...

His long, elegant fingers had just made me gasp as they wrapped around my nipple when suddenly, he stopped. There was a soft

clink

as he placed the dinner dish on a nearby table and then there was nothing.

I sat up, pushing off of his legs and turning around to face him. "What is it?" I asked, my voice slow and drowsy.

Even in our short time together, I had grown adept at reading his body language. There was a tightness to his jaw, to his beautiful muscles, a coiled strength that threatened to break through his sophisticated exterior.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, worried.

Was it something I had done?

"I want you." His voice was low and thrumming with unspoken power, and when I briefly met his gaze it was hot and bright and fixed on my face as though seeking a response.