So, we have the return of Marco, my favorite sadistic vampire. Wonderful. Most of this was actually written before 'Delicious,' but I suggest you read that first, since it will give you a taste of what Marco's personality is like. If you don't like that one, I don't suggest you read this one. ('Delicious' is a lot shorter, don't worry. It's two Word pages as opposed to 29.)

Warnings: Once again, we've got sexual content, m/m, yaoi, slash, whatever you call it, something that borders on rape (for all intents and purposes, it is rape; however, Marco is a vampire, so his definition of rape is a bit skewed…), and language. As always, it's rated M for a reason.

If you have a problem with any of the above, don't read it. You've been warned. And if you think you're gonna be okay with it, and decide you're not, don't feel obligated to finish it. There's a little arrow at the top of your screen that quite easily sends you back to the story browsing screen. I won't resent you at all for clicking it. In fact, I won't even know you were here. Just… don't flame me, please. It's your decision to read it. You can navigate away from it at any time.

In addition, I don't really like Marco, nor do I approve of anything he does. I simply feel that a good author should be able to write a vast variety of characters, so Marco is more or less an experiment. I have never written a story with a focus on the 'bad guy.' I needed to teach myself what it was like to write a 'bad guy.' And so Marco was born.

Well, read it if you wish, or go find something else if you wish that.

Kiyoshi'sGirl64 and Kiyoshi

I followed him, my feet silent. It isn't hard to be quiet as the grave when you are, for all intents and purposes, dead. I'd been following him for a few days now. Or rather, a few nights. Days… those were for hiding away in the basement where no one could see you. Where no light could penetrate.

Where you wouldn't burn and crack and shatter into thousands of pieces.

Now though… Now it was dark, and I had until dawn to follow him. I had until dawn to seduce him. I couldn't wait much longer than that; it had been a few weeks since I last fed. But that wasn't the point. The point was him. He was a challenge. He was aware of our presence, he knew what we looked like and what we could do.

He had killed several others. Rebecca. James. Oliver. My pupils. All three of them. I suppose, in reality, what I wanted wasn't to eat him. What I wanted was to turn him. Punish him for his crimes. Keep him with me and force him into submission. Teach him what it meant to be one of us. Teach him how good it felt. Teach him that what I wanted, I got. No exceptions. Rebecca, James and Oliver had been mine. But he had taken them from me. So I would take him. I would chain him in the basement if I had to.

I might chain him in the basement even if he decided he wanted to stay.

I grinned wickedly at the thought, even as I continued following him. It would keep him safe from the sun. It would keep him dependent on me for his meals. He would be entirely at my mercy if I wanted to play. The others weren't so worrisome. They discovered what they were and panicked. They turned to me because they couldn't survive without me. They didn't want to go up in a burst of flames. That's what they thought would happen. I never told them otherwise.

This man on the other hand… he was different. If he decided he didn't want to stay, he might throw himself into the sunlight to escape what he was. And I had been watching him. He was very careful.

Holy water sprinkled on the doorstep. Cross tattoos above each pulse point. Garlic strewn about his room. Wooden stake in his briefcase.

Not that any of these did much good. We were what we were, and we could not be killed. Except by the sun.

Wooden stakes through your heart are uncomfortable, yes, and I'd had my fair share. But I was still alive to tell the tale. Crosses and holy water… talk about an inconvenience. They don't hurt, they don't repel those of us who have lived for a long time… they are just unbelievably irritating. It's more of an allergy than anything else. A mild allergy. One easily circumvented. And then the garlic. Thinking something like that could repel us was almost an insult. It smelled terrible and polluted the blood… but we're not exactly picky about our food. And often we'll choose garlic over some of the other things the humans are foolish enough to let enter their bloodstreams.

The man I was following was around six feet tall, dark hair, pale blue eyes. I had yet to discover how he had killed Rebecca and James and Oliver with such a rudimentary knowledge of our kind. Once could have been a fluke. Three of my apprentices? No one was that lucky. Not around us.

And his luck had run out the moment he had taken Oliver. Because I had no more apprentices. They would have to be replaced. And I knew just where to start.

I stalked him; it was dark enough that he wouldn't have been able to see me clearly, but I could see him perfectly. He would be mine.

I found myself grinning. No. He wouldn't be my apprentice. He would be my pet. Entirely dependent on me for food, for shelter from the sun. For affection.

Of course, if he was like James, he would resist my brand of affection at first. But he would grow used to it. He would come to enjoy it.

I sped up as he neared the corner where he would turn onto his street. I couldn't cross his threshold without his permission. It's fortunate that very few humans know what consists of permission in the terms of our kind. Spoken permission is welcomed, but not necessary. An inclining of the body that indicates any kind of desire… that is more than enough. We can enter, and we will never be unwelcome again. If the human is lucky enough to survive more than one night.

I approached the corner silently, and when I turned it, he was there, waiting for me. He was very attractive, more so than any of the others. It would be a pleasure to have him chained in my basement. With proper warding on the shackles, he wouldn't be able to move, let alone break free.

Of course, it's no fun when they don't squirm. The wards would have to be strong enough to hold him, but not strong enough that he couldn't fight. I licked my lips. He was delicious. And it was antagonizing how good he smelled. It would be difficult to turn him, as opposed to draining him dry. But I could do it. I'd done it before. Many times. Rebecca and James and Oliver were merely the most recent; others had left me or foolishly stepped into the sun.

But this man… he would be mine. I was sure of it. He was not going to escape as the others had done. Not by running away, not even by dying. I would keep him with me. Always.

He pushed me up against the wall, his hand around my throat. His pale eyes flashed. I stared back, smiling calmly at him. So he was going to be difficult. I liked that. I liked a challenge. He blinked once when I didn't move, when I didn't fight back. And then he kissed me. When he pulled away he looked disgusted. At kissing a man or at kissing a monster, I'm not sure. But for me this was perfect. Welcome. The holy water is rendered null and void when one is invited so warmly. I grabbed his fingers and wrenched them away from my neck. He's strong. For a human. Which still isn't strong enough.

I'm betting that's how he got to them. Stronger than normal for a human; staking them would have disoriented them, young as they were. And then it would be a simple manner to tie them down if you had the proper wards or knew the right incantations.

But I wasn't young. Not even by the standards of my kind was I young. I was older. And strength comes with age. So pulling his fingers from their vice-like grip around my neck was a simple matter. And then I allowed him to lead me to his apartment. This was going perfectly. Nothing could stop me now, not even if he decided to stake me.

He led me inside and pushed me up against the door. I complied. It was always easier when they thought they were the one in charge of the situation. "I was waiting for you," he hissed. "Marco, the vampire who has killed more in this region than any other."

I grinned. He'd heard of me then. What a pleasant surprise. "And who told you that?" I inquired. No victims had ever escaped me. Meaning some of my competitors were spreading rumors. Not that it mattered. Nearly two thousand years roaming the planet gives one a distinct advantage over those who have been around a mere three or four hundred. And that is what my 'rivals' were. Children, by comparison. They thought themselves my equals. And yet, if I had cared enough, it would have been one night's work—perhaps two—to eliminate them all and once again have the city to myself.

But where's the fun in that?

"I've done my research," he replied. "You won't get away from me. A thousand years is more than enough. You've outstayed your welcome on this planet."

He then staked me through the heart. I pretended to be surprised, in an effort to see how, exactly, he had dealt with the others. He clamped some chains around my wrists. They were humming. So he knew about the wards. Clever. He wasn't nearly so incompetent as I thought. "If you know about the warding, I assume you know the proper incantations to immobilize me?" I asked mildly.

He glared and murmured something under his breath. I didn't need to hear it to know what it was. An intermediate freezing charm. Effective on the weak ones, as well as the young ones. Depending on the user, it could occasionally immobilize those who had been living up to nine hundred years. He was fascinating. And he was mine. If he could do no more than that, it was as good as done.

For one of my strength, his spell was nothing. For one of my age, the wards—designed to hold a vampire of a thousand years or less—were of little consequence. But he didn't need to know that quite yet. I always did like playing with my food.

But then he pulled the stake from my chest. I was still shackled to the wall, but he didn't seem to care. "You were waiting for me," I noted. "That is a bit arrogant, no? To think a mere human is good enough to draw me in, just because they want me to come?"

He smirked. "I know your type. I killed Rebecca and you were mildly disappointed. But then I got to James as well. That intrigued and angered you. The fact that I was also able to eliminate Oliver pissed you off. After all, what is a master without his slaves?"

"Slaves?" I answered. "I would hardly call them that. They stayed of their own free will."

He blinked, obviously not expecting that kind of response. "Your time has come, Marco. I'm going to bed. When I wake, you'll be nothing but a heap of ashes on the floor. An unpleasant mess that must be cleaned."

Tsk, tsk. Never leave a vampire alone in your home. Bad things will come of it. He opened the windows wide and went to his room. He showered, and I delighted in the thought of his naked, exposed body. And I did indeed hear him go to sleep. I grinned and muttered the words that immediately counteracted the charm he had placed upon me. I snapped my fingers and the shackles fell away. Pathetic. Unfortunately for him, very little can be done to subdue a vampire that has been around as long as I. Fortunately for me, only one of those practices remains, the rest lost in the flow of time.

I entered his room, silent as the shadows. And he was asleep, not just pretending. I slipped into bed beside him, and I wasted no time. I could easily have my way with him later. Dawn was creeping closer with every second, and I had no time to spare. So I bit into the soft flesh of his neck, permitting myself to taste a few drops of the delicious fluid. He woke with a shout of anger. But I was on top of him, and there was no way for him to fight back. Even a strong human is no match for a weak vampire. I then bit my own hand and pressed my hand to his wound, mingling the blood. It would be less than twenty four hours.

But already the wards would be enough. So I ripped his shackles from the wall and clamped them around his wrists. He shivered and nearly fell to the floor. Perhaps the wards were stronger than I thought; I had hardly felt them at all. Ah well. It was easier the weaker he was. So I lifted him and left the apartment.

I took him back to my house, slipping down the stairs as he shuddered in my arms. Perhaps the wards were worse than I had imagined. They seemed to be making him physically sick. I arrived in my black hole, the storm cellar, where not even a scrap of sunshine came through. I placed him carefully on one of the three beds in the main room. The bed that had been Oliver's. He continued to shake violently.

I couldn't have this. I was already fond of him. He was more trouble than any of the others had been, more challenging than any quarry I'd set upon before. So in an effort to make him more comfortable, I removed the warded chains, sat down on the bed and held him. His shaking diminished, and color returned to his cheeks.

"Can't… see…" he whispered at one point, sounding more submissive than I'd thought he was capable of. Perhaps he was not worth keeping around. Perhaps he had lost that fighting spirit the moment he had lost to me.

"You will," I assured him. "You will." It was little more than an hour later when he gasped. I looked at him. His eyes were darting in every direction, panicked. "I told you you would see," I murmured in his ear, holding him close. As each hour passed, I felt his body temperature drop, closer and closer to mine. His heartbeat slowed until it reached around one beat every five minutes. Slow for one as young as he. Mine on the other hand… It beats about once every four hours.

He struggled to get away from me, but I didn't move. He was slightly stronger now, but nowhere close to being a match for me. "Let go," he hissed.

I smirked down at him. "Why?" I asked. "You are my pet. I cannot have you running around in the sunlight. You would perish. That wouldn't do, now, would it?"

"I'd rather die than stay here with you," he spat at me, still squirming. So his lethargy and worry about lack of sight was due to shock, not a change in spirit. Good. For some odd reason though, his words stung, irritating me.

"That does not seem to be a choice you are allowed to make, Bryce," I hissed at him, allowing him to fall onto the bed and out of my arms. "You are mine, and there is nothing that will change that." I grabbed his arm and pulled him from the bed. He stumbled as he got up, but his feet made no sound. I could sense his steps, as I could with all my other apprentices, but hearing them was not within the realm of possibility. I dragged him to a door and threw him through it. "That is my room. You best get used to it, because you will be spending each day there." I snapped the door shut, sealing it with a holding spell, stronger than anything he was capable of generating. Meaning it was stronger than anything he was capable of counteracting. For good measure I added a soundproofing spell so any shouts he made wouldn't alert my landlady. It was time for dinner.

The night passed quickly, and the girl I took was young. Fresh. I also created some wards that were more appropriate for his age and strength.

When I returned, I found him shaking on the floor. I watched him for several minutes before I commanded, "Get up." He didn't respond, didn't even say anything designed to piss me off. He simply continued shaking. I pulled him to his feet, but when I let go, he crumpled. Perhaps my spell was too strong. I sighed. I would have to watch him until I could create some wards designed to protect at different levels for age and strength. Most vampires are within certain limits and follow the learning curve as they age. The exceptions are vampires who know the magic before they are turned. It can take decades for their strength to fall back within normal limits.

And most spells and wards target a specific age range and a specific strength. If they are skewed as was obviously the case here, more elaborate warding was needed. Something to target the physical strength of his age, and separate properties to deal with his magic. And creating that kind of ward was a pain.

It was several hours before he stopped shaking. Perhaps the magic had had a stronger effect than I thought. But he was belligerent the moment he could speak without stuttering. "You can't make me stay here."

"I do believe I can," I contradicted him, watching him from my post in front of the door. "And I do believe I will. You intrigue me. You are far more of a challenge than any of the others. I will delight in playing with you, when the time comes."

"I am not something to be played with. I am a human being."

"Hardly," I replied. "Do you see the absolute darkness around you? No, you do not. You see directly through it, as though there was light to give you sight. Do you feel tired despite not having slept in more than twenty four hours? No, you do not. You are as wide awake now as if you had just woken up. You are no longer human. That life is over. And now you are mine."

"Your apprentice," he stated flatly.

"No," I rejected the idea firmly. "Not my apprentice. My apprentices are allowed to go out with me. They are allowed to learn how to hunt. They are allowed to leave, if they wish, although most often they stay because I can offer them protection." I knew he wouldn't ask, so I clarified for him. "Protection from the sun, protection from intelligent humans with curses and charms and other bits of magic. Protection from other vampires, more powerful than them."

"And the vampires more powerful than you?" he challenged.

I grinned. "There are only three left," I answered. "And while they are more powerful than I, they do not know where I am." I smiled wickedly. "A thousand years ago, the four of us banded together to overthrow our master." Speaking of which… "And as I said, you are not my apprentice." I looked at him evenly, knowing what I was about to say would rile him up. "You are my pet."

Sure enough, his glare deepened and rage flooded his eyes. "I am neither your pet nor your plaything."

"On the contrary, you are entirely dependent on me and therefore at my mercy." And I have been told that I possess very little mercy. Perhaps that is why I have lived so long. "Therefore, you are whatever I decide you shall be. And I have decided that you are to be my pet." And nothing was going to change my mind on that. I smiled, and I could feel fire dancing in my eyes. I felt him flinch backwards, even though there was no physical reaction. The bond between the one who turns and the one who is turned is stronger than he realizes. I could read his every emotion, to the point where I more or less knew what he was thinking. He had no intention of submitting to me. Ever. Unfortunately for him, that was what I liked. I wanted him angry. I might have lost interest if he had just accepted it all. That's what happened with Rebecca and Oliver. They didn't fight it. And it bored me. James fought against it for two months. But he fought more against what he was than he fought against me, which was unfortunate. Bryce, however, hated me and who he was. Meaning that breaking him would take time and effort. And it would be fun. Much more fun than I had had in years. When he didn't respond, I promised him, "If you're a good boy, I might be nice and throw you a bone." Or a body. And then again, I just as easily could have decided not to be nice.

Bodies are an acceptable alternative to fresh food, good for vampires who are too young to be trusted to be home before light. Or pets who are too stubborn to be trusted not to step into the sun on purpose.

And of course, I couldn't have them touching him. Defiling him. He was mine. He wasn't allowed to seduce them. If I found a particularly easy one, I might bring it back, since he wouldn't have to do more than stick his fangs in and drink. But I would not have him around the trash he would have to seduce.

I briefly wished I didn't need to feed him at all, because transporting the bodies in and out would be a hassle. However, I also had to take into account the fact that if he didn't eat, he would get weak. And if he got weak, he would be easier to break. And I didn't want that. Bryce was the most challenging thing I'd met since I had killed my master.

I had opted not to tell him that bit. I was one of the humans who knew magic before the turning. And therefore I was stronger. But I did not let that go. I kept at it, practicing in secret. To this day, my power level was still several levels above my age. Oh, I had let the other three think they were helping. But that was merely so they wouldn't know what I was truly capable of. And of the three of them, none of them matched up to what I could actually do. And that's the way I liked it. I was the most powerful vampire on earth, unless there was another powerful as I who was content to wait in secret for a chance to strike. And I was biding my time until I could make my move and kill the others who were anywhere close to me. And I had no problem with biding my time, with pets and playthings if I must.

He spent the rest of the day glaring at me, not saying a single word. I simply smiled at him, knowing it would anger him further. When nighttime rolled around, he began getting restless. I remained calm, wondering if he would figure out why it was suddenly so bothersome to be trapped down here. Finally he asked me, "When are you going to let me out of this pit?"

I smiled. "What reason do I have to let you out, my pet?"

"Don't call me that," he commanded, as though he had a right to order me around. "When are you going to let me out?" he repeated. "And why is the feeling of claustrophobia so much stronger all of a sudden?"

I allowed my eyes to widen, revealing my slight surprise. He was claustrophobic. Intriguing. Perhaps that could be used to my advantage when I got around to playing with him. But that wouldn't be done until the proper wards, seals and shackles had been acquired. But I refrained from answering his question directly, merely stating, "Go back into my room, my pet."

I ignored his growls of "Don't call me that" and picked him up. He fought, of course. "Don't touch me."

I placed him gently on the bed. "Sleep well, my pet, I must be going. The night is calling me." Not that he could sleep. But the night was calling me, even as I locked the door and reluctantly placed the same charms on it from the night before. Hopefully the exposure wouldn't kill him. I was already more attached to this one than I had ever been to any of the others. I wondered if I should have just killed him, enjoyed the sweet taste of his blood. But there was no use in thinking about that. What was done, was done and there was no going back. And I didn't particularly regret having him around. It was nice to have someone capable of conversing with you without fear.

That was the problem with the others. They feared my power, knew I could kill them without even touching them. This one knew it too. But he didn't fear it. I think that was what drew me to him more than anything else. The fearlessness.

I did nothing that night beyond finding the ingredients necessary to engineer a charm designed specifically for vampires under one century, with power capabilities of vampires between one century and three. It was difficult. I had not needed to do such a thing in a long time. And the last time I had done it, the one being restrained was in fact myself. The hidden charms restricted my power. Self-containment, something very few vampires ever need or even want to do. And yet…

I glanced down at the bracelet around my wrist. It was quiet and unassuming. If only my pet knew what he had truly gotten himself into.

I returned to my home, to the darkness humming with magic. My magic. That's not to say I couldn't feel his. I could. Very much so. Or rather, I felt the dents his magic had left in my own. Small dents, but dents nonetheless. Perhaps he was not the only one playing with fire. The difference was, I knew how to handle it.

I unwove the spells and entered the room. He wasn't shaking on the floor this time, although I might have preferred that to seeing him sitting in the corner, knees drawn to his chest, arms wrapped around his knees, rocking back and forth, eyes like those of a deer that knows a hunter is near.

Well, there was nothing I could do about that. "You may come out whenever you please," I informed him. I returned to the main room and began constructing the wards. Some of them more powerful than others. But all designed that they might not drive him mad. It wasn't long before he emerged from the room. His legs were shaky, although he did a fairly good job disguising that. He placed his back against the wall opposite me watching me. I pretended to ignore him.

But the moment I finished the first of the charms, he shuddered violently. Good. It worked. If he reacted that way from across the room, I had done well in creating a charm designed to subdue him specifically. It would work against no one else, not even the weakest vampire. It was good to hold him alone. "Something wrong, my pet?" I asked.

He glared back. The violence and hatred in his eyes made me tempted to take him then. But I couldn't. Not until I had finished the charms. "You have turned me into one of you," he spit. "You insist that I am your pet. You torment me daily, locking me in a room that fills my senses with… with something." Interesting. That was the first time I had heard him at a loss for words. He went on, "And then you are working some insidious magic now, without it even burning your fingers. Nothing is wrong." Burning my fingers? Ah yes. Black magic. That was what he referenced. It burned the fingers of humans and vampires who did not have strong wills and absolute control over the volatile force.

I chuckled. "This is not black magic, pet," I informed him. He bristled internally at the nickname. I nearly purred at the reaction he didn't know I could feel. "This is a milder, more intricate form of the magic I have already performed. It will contain you without driving you out of your senses." That internal jerk of surprise. My, my, he was good at controlling his emotions. If not for the bond, I wouldn't have any idea that he was surprised about anything. "You are surprised," I stated, grinning down at my handiwork as he stiffened in anger. I didn't even have to look at him to know what he was doing. Convenient. "Care to tell me why?"


I laughed. "You thought I meant to torture you, day in, day out, did you not?" No answer was given, which was answer enough. "Well, I have no intention of doing that, provided you behave. I merely wish to keep you here. I am simply not foolish enough to believe you would stay if I did not subdue you in some fashion."

He growled. It came from deep in his throat, a noise no human was capable of making. Wonderful. His vampirism was kicking in. It was going to get more fun, and quickly. Finally he spoke again. "You're going to pay for this."

"How, pray tell." I went on making the chains that would bind him to the wall. Or the bed, if the situation demanded it. He didn't answer. I looked up at him. Those pale eyes glowed in the darkness. So aggravating that I could do nothing yet. I had to finish. Well, I supposed I could have taken him then. But it would be better if I waited. The anticipation and the sensation of finally getting what I wanted would make it better. For me. "I asked how you were going to make me pay, my pet. It truly interests me, that you think you could harm me in any way. I would like you to enlighten me, that I might know how your mind works a bit better."

"And what reason do you have to care how my mind works?"

Oh, how enticing that anger was. It was nearly driving me mad. It was making parts of me hum with pleasure that had been silent for many, many years. So I placed the half-completed ward on the table next to my chair and walked over to him. He flinched backwards. Well, he desperately wanted to flinch backwards, his human instinct to run from vampires still strong. But he stubbornly refused to show his fear. I sat down next to him, my back up against the wall as well. He tensed when I began stroking his knee. "Don't you understand, pet?" I asked, and even I could hear the purr in my voice. I hadn't felt the need to seduce someone like this in what was closing in on eight hundred years. I hadn't wanted anyone as badly as I wanted this man before me now in all the time I'd been alive. "I don't want to harm you. I just want you to stay with me. Can't you see? I care about you." I could feel the purr in my throat, the sound vibrating against my will. "I want to know everything about you." I slid my hand up his leg, toward the part of him I most desired to touch. "Everything."

But he reached out and stopped me. "No," he said flatly. "You don't care about me. You don't care about anything I said. You just think of me as a challenge. But I will not be seduced." There was a half-second's silence before he added firmly, viciously, "And I am not your pet."

I stood and looked down at him. "Then what are you? If I am the master, you must be either the apprentice or the pet." I smiled mockingly at him. "And we've already established that you, my pet, are not to be an apprentice."

He glowered. I laughed and returned to the warding. It was making my fingers tingle. I wasn't sure if it was the magic or the anticipation. I had created a containing ward to place on my bedroom door and one to place on the other door that led to the stairs. I was taking no chances. He was mine, and he was going to remain mine. I finished the shackles, both pairs. "Come here, pet," I commanded. He didn't move. Difficult as always. That was what I liked. So I got up and walked to him, holding the stronger pair in my hand. He stiffened, his eyes locking in on the pieces of metal that were vibrating with their magic, reacting to his presence. Good. They knew him. They recognized the one they were to bind.

He kicked out at me, but I caught his foot. "There is nothing you can do, Bryce." He froze in surprise, and I took the opportunity to snap the cuffs around his wrists and ankles. They fit. Marvelous. "How does that feel, Bryce?" He didn't respond, his chest rising and falling rapidly. So he hadn't realized that he didn't need to breathe. I would have thought… ah well. That meant nothing. I had designed the cuffs so that they would restrict—or even completely prevent—all movement that was not necessary for survival. Which meant that he still believed he needed to breathe.

Claustrophobia and a need to breathe. If I was in a bad mood, or if he did something deserving of punishment, I could easily use those. Not to mention the excessive magic that he obviously couldn't deal with. If I got bored with him, my fun could continue long after he gave into me. Long after he submitted and decided he liked it.

I grinned at him. The cuffs alone were currently enough to prevent movement. He didn't even need to be chained. Not with those. The others… he would fight back. Which made the conquering that much more difficult. That much more of a challenge.

That much more appealing.

So I snapped the others on as well. He began shivering, the combined magic of the two too much for his young body to handle. These had chains on them, with a latch on the other end to be attached to any surface. I attached them to the wall with a simple sticking charm. With his arms and legs bound by these, his magic wouldn't be strong enough to break anything. I felt myself hiss with pleasure.

But there was a twitch at the corner of my mind. Night was drawing near. I removed the stronger bindings, and his breathing slowed, his shaking stopped and the panic disappeared from his eyes. As always the hatred replaced it. He immediately began pulling against the chains. But he was more or less immobilized. I would lengthen the chains later, give him some hope of fending me off. Hope in his eyes, not mine. There was no hope. Once he allowed me to cross his threshold, it was done. Once I got him across my threshold, his fate was sealed. He would be my pet for eternity. I grinned at the thought. He immediately fell still. I could sense his reason too. He was afraid of the look in my eyes.

I smiled. "It's alright, my pet."

"Don't call me that."

"Now, now," I said. "No need to be so angry all the time, love." He twitched at that one, internal and externally, a growl issuing from his throat in spite of himself. "Now open your mouth, love." He didn't so I reached out and wrenched it open for him. As I did so, I felt him recoil at my touch. And that irritated me. He would love me. And then I would dispose of him. No. I couldn't dispose of him. I would not do that. Not after such effort to obtain him. He would stay with me always. Always. I placed my fingers in his mouth and felt along the edges of his teeth. I was pleased to find that his canines were quite loose. "Very good, my pet. Your teeth are coming in already." He bit down, hard.

It didn't hurt of course. I sighed and rolled my eyes, releasing an electric shock into his mouth, the magic stunning him and making him choke. "Don't bite me," I warned him. "There are consequences to every action. Pets are not to bite their masters. They will be punished for it."

That strange sensation was tugging more forcefully at my consciousness. I grinned and switched the handcuffs once more, so that he wouldn't be able to move. The panting returned immediately. "I must leave, my dear. We can't have me hungry, can we? I was thinking of bringing you something, but you're a bit too young still. No teeth. And a bit too naughty to deserve a reward." I smirked and left him lying on the bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I wondered how long it would be before he realized that oxygen was not on the list of things vampires needed.

When I returned just before the approach of dawn, he was in the same position, although his breathing had slowed to a more normal rate. I grinned. From the door I asked him, "Would you like me to leave those on or put you in the more lenient ones?"

I could feel his anger well in his chest, but he couldn't answer. I liked it better when he could speak. So I removed the shackles entirely. His back was to the wall in a fraction of a second. He'd figured out the vampire speed at the very least. That pleased me. "Do you play with all your food like this?" he demanded coldly.

"Oh, no," I said happily. "I play with my food, of course, teasing them, letting them think they are in control of the situation." His anger hardened as he recognized that I had done the same with him, back in his apartment. "But you are not food." I tilted my head slightly to the side and looked at him calmly. "I am not totally barbaric. I do not eat my pets."

He stared at me, and I could see he was debating on whether he should make a comment or not. He decided not to. He probably did it because he knew I wanted him belligerent and angry. I wanted him to fight. And as long as he knew that, there was nothing he could do that wouldn't make me happy. Either verbal attacks that were obviously meant to enrage, or a refusal to rise to the bait because he thought that would make me angry. Either way it was an act of defiance. And the defiance was the only thing that was important.

"So tell me about you, Bryce," I ordered him.

"No. I will not tell a bloodsucking, perverted sadist about me," he spat.

"Perverted?" I asked. "That hurts that you think of me that way, Bryce." And it did. "I am only giving you want you wanted." Well, I was giving him what he had given me permission to do.

"I didn't want this," he hissed violently. "I wanted to kill you."

I nodded. "But you wanted me where I could get to you. You wanted me in your apartment. I couldn't have touched you in your apartment if you hadn't kissed me. You wanted this, even if you don't admit it, Bryce." I could feel how uncomfortable my using his name was making him. "Now tell me about yourself. How old you are for example, or what you liked to do on the weekends."

I felt him shiver. He wanted to answer my question, the bond between the turned and the turner strong. Encouraging the turned to do as his master commanded. But he resisted. "No."

I grinned. "It's sweet, Bryce, that you care enough to hate me that much. But you should know that names have power, love. More power than you can imagine." I walked across the room toward him. He stiffened, although he refused to submit to the urge to get as far away from me as possible. "They have so much power that if I wished I could make you give me what I want using words alone. But where's the fun in that?" I moved quicker than even his vampire eyes could follow and he was attached to the bed, a foot or hand to each metal bedpost.

I could still feel the sting from when he had called me perverted. "Bryce," I whispered, "My pet, you are going to regret calling me perverted. Sadist that I am, you can surely understand what that means?"

He flinched backwards, and I could tell that I had him genuinely frightened. Good. He was beginning to see how this relationship worked. I placed a hand on one of the chains, sending a strong current of magic down it. The magic was only amplified by the warding symbols on the actual cuffs, and his body jerked violently. I drew the magic back into my hand. He was motionless, not even breathing. "Do you see how this works, Bryce?" I asked. "You are a bad pet, so I punish you, that you may learn a lesson." I sent another electrical shock coursing through him, this one a bit stronger than the last. I smiled pleasantly as his body thrashed involuntarily. "Don't say that again," I warned him. "Next time the punishment will be even worse."

To my surprise, he nodded. It must have hurt him more than I thought, if it had made him this complacent. Ah well. He'd be back to normal soon, and I'd be able to have a bit more fun with him.

I returned to my place across the room to watch him. It was only a few minutes before he began struggling against the chains. I watched him struggle for several hours. And then I rose and approached him. He froze. I smiled. "I don't intend to harm you, my pet." I stroked his hair gently. He glared up at me, unhappy about the contact. Or about the nickname. Both perhaps. I smiled and said, "I am going out again tonight, my pet." More rolling waves of disgust within him. And then he spit something at me. It bounced off my cheek. I picked it up from the ground. A tooth. "Very beautiful. Open up. I want to see." He, of course, clamped his mouth shut and I once again had to force it open. The growl that came from his throat then was far more impressive than any he'd managed before. I would have been afraid. If I was a human. As it was, I simply felt around in his mouth. Poking at the place the tooth came from. He let out an involuntary yelp. I pulled my finger back. It was covered in blood. Whether that was his from the gums or mine from a pricked finger, though, remained to be seen. I licked my finger off. Thousands of flavors mingled together. Definitely my blood. "Wonderful," I murmured my approval. "Your teeth are coming in quite nicely. Even though you were bad I might bring you a reward anyway."

And I left him there, placing the seals on the door. I found a nice one for him. She was beautiful. I smiled my most charming smile and she giggled and took my hand. "Come home with me?" I purred gently. She nodded eagerly. I gently led her back to the apartment. She entered and I turned on the lights for her poor human eyes to see. She gasped, seeing Bryce. But it was too late for her, as it had been too late for Bryce when he invited me inside. "What is this?" she whimpered.

I smiled. "Bryce is my pet."

"No," Bryce growled. "Never."

"Quiet, love," I commanded, not looking away from the girl who was shaking with fear. "Even pets need to eat, surely you understand that, don't you?"

She nodded, but she pleaded, "Please, don't hurt me. Please…"

I ignored her words and kissed her pressing her up against the wall, my cold body shaping to fit hers perfectly. But I wasn't paying any particular attention to her. I was far more interested in Bryce's reaction. I could feel his want. Not just for the blood, either. For the sex. I grinned to myself and bit her, lapping up some of the blood. She squirmed. "Shhh," I murmured, leading her toward the bed. "Lay down, it'll all be alright."

She did as I asked, and I released Bryce's hands. They were around her in an instant and his mouth was at her throat. Vampire transformation complete. The first feeding is always fascinating to watch. Older vampires know how to feed so that their clothing remains clean and not a drop is wasted. The young ones don't, and blood—precious lifeblood—is lost. Bryce's first was particularly messy, and he lost perhaps half of the meal, over himself and the bed. It was alluring, having him covered in blood. As alluring as the animalistic look in his eye as he feeds.

She grew paler and paler, and I wasn't sure when she actually died. Bryce gave no indication that he'd felt her perish. And when there was nothing left, he began licking her neck and chest clean. But then he froze. I knew then that I would never forget the look of horror on his face. I remembered the first time I had killed someone. I didn't like it when I realized what I had done. But the taste of the blood, sweet and fresh, outweighed any reluctance I felt to be drinking the blood—the life—of humans. "Good, no?" I asked him.

"Monster," he spit at me.

I looked at him. "And tell me, my pet, which one of us killed that girl? The last time I touched her, she was very much alive."

He looked as though he was going to be sick. I walked back to his side and picked her up. I crossed the room and placed her, eyes closed on the bed that had been Rebecca's. The fact that we each had our own bed was a formality only. It was a way to give them space that belonged to them. The whole space belonged to me. It was mine.

And my lovely landlady. She knew what I was. She knew what we were. She also knew that no number of police would be able to stop me. She knew that if she called the police she would be dead and I would be gone long before the police arrived. So she let me stay here for free. Such a kind woman.

I turned back to Bryce, who was still covered in blood, still looking as though he wanted to puke. Odd. A vampire who didn't like blood. But it was his life now. He would grow used to it, he would come to love it. As he would grow used to me, and as he would come to love me.

He really was beautiful, blood or no blood. I did prefer the blood though. It accented those beautiful blue eyes, which were so pale they already contradicted his thick, dark, almost-black hair. His muscles of his arms were well-defined and it was only a matter of time before I permitted myself to see the rest of him. He was probably around twenty seven, perhaps a bit older.

We sat in silence for the rest of the night and all through the day. Every once in a while he would lose control and start shaking. But the intermittent shaking ceased by dawn. He simply stared at the girl. He never once pulled at the chains that remained around his ankles. He simply sat on his bed, looking at her in horror. He'd get over it. And night rolled around once more.

I stood. "We should probably get you out of those clothes, my pet. They are quite drenched in blood." I wasn't sure drenched was quite the right word, since the blood was dried, but that wasn't the point. I walked over to him and found that he was still shaking, simply not so violently. I gently pulled the shirt over his head and pulled him close. "Shhh," I whispered. "I'm here. The first time is hard for everyone, my pet. But I'm here." I stroked his hair, but he continued to shudder. Then I took his wrists in one of my hands and clamped the cuffs back on. He didn't fight it. I removed the shackles from his ankles. He seemed lethargic.

That is until I started unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. He didn't like that too much. "What are you doing?" he screeched. That was probably the closest I'd seen him come to losing his control to anger. I just ignored him as I pulled his pants down over his kicking legs and feet. His plaid boxers came next. "What are you doing, you monster?" he demanded, his voice much more level this time. But the bond let me taste his fear. It was absolutely divine.

I refrained from answering again. I simply placed his ankles back in their manacles and smiled at him. He was beautiful. I had made a good decision, both in choosing to turn him and in keeping him to myself. No one else deserved to see this. No one else deserved to touch it. He was mine. I tossed the clothes in the corner. "I told you, pet." There was that internal shudder and growl from deep in his chest at the name again. I loved that I could draw that out with just a single word. "We are getting you out of these clothes." Although the clothes smelled divine. They smelled of Bryce and of blood, a combination I would have killed thousands of times over for to taste just once.

"So where are the replacements?" he demanded.

"Replacements?" I asked. "I haven't the slightest idea what you are talking about. I have no clothes that would fit you."

"So what am I supposed to wear?" he hissed.

I smirked. He was still convinced he had some say in this situation. "I think you are going to wear exactly what you are wearing at the moment, love." There was an odd shudder in my chest as I said that last word. And it wasn't something I was picking up from Bryce, either. Odd. I grinned at him. "I'll be back at dawn. Have fun."

I picked up the girl's body and left the basement, sealing the door behind me. I did my night's work silently, burying her in an unmarked grave in the oldest section of the nearest cemetery. And I couldn't stop thinking about the delicious snack that was waiting for me at home. Naked, entirely exposed. The thought of him made me tremble in anticipation. But I'd promised I'd be back at dawn. No need to hurry. It was better to draw the night out, make him wait.

I returned to the room, which was still brightly lit, just when I said I would be back. I hit the lights, not that it made much difference to my sight. Bryce was lying on his back, entirely motionless. That's one thing he had learned in the past day or so. He didn't need to breathe. If he wasn't so stubborn, he'd make a wonderful apprentice. If he wasn't so beautiful, I might have been willing to let him be one. But no… he would be my pet. I would keep him here as long as I stayed, and I would take him with me when I left, hiding him in the next basement.

"Give me some clothes," he said. His voice was quiet, deadly. If he weren't bound, I would almost have worried. Almost.

"No," I murmured, sitting down next to him on the bed. "I rather like you like this." I leaned over and, starting just below his navel, I ran my tongue all the way up his stomach and chest. He shuddered, inwardly and outwardly. "You like it," I purred. "Just admit it, love." That odd sensation occurred in my chest. I needed to quit using that word. "Life will be easier for you."

"No," he growled. "I don't like it. I don't like you. And as long as you have me held prisoner here, life won't be easy."

"I'm not holding you prisoner, Bryce," I whispered, licking the delicious, dried blood off his neck. So sweet. "I'm keeping you here for your own safety. I'm protecting you from the sun, from the humans who hate us so dreadfully, from the other vampires who wouldn't hesitate to kill you."

"You're holding me prisoner because you're a sadistic bastard," he whispered, his voice sounding deadly. It thrilled me.

"Mmm," I moaned as I continued feeding on the leftover blood. "Perhaps I am a sadistic bastard. But I'm not holding you prisoner. If I thought you could be trusted to stay here on your own, I would release you. But you can't. And I couldn't bear to have you shatter."

He frowned. "Shatter?"

"Vampires don't burst into flame," I replied, fighting desire to sink my teeth into his neck. That would be pointless. He already bears my mark. "They burn, crack, shatter. The pieces fall to the ground and they burn like a campfire." I grinned into his neck. "The screams are a nice prelude to a feast."

I felt his body twitch in horror beneath me. I pulled away from him. "Well, that's quite enough for tonight," I said. Best in moderation. Too much of a good thing and all that. "I have plenty of time to play with you." My lips twitched at the terror I felt in his heart—contradicted by his firm, angry façade—and I added, "Plenty of time to work our way up to the fun stuff, no, my pet?"

"Sadistic son of a bitch," he spat.

I clicked my tongue. "I must teach you some better insults. That one is getting quite boring."

Bryce scowled. He wasn't happy, and I could see that, could feel his hatred washing over me in waves as I walked away. He had no reason to be happy with me. I had tricked him, turned him, chained him up, led him to his first feeding and removed his clothing in a matter of a few days. Not to mention the torture the stronger magic had inflicted. Of course, I did regret that. I hadn't meant to harm him. I wanted him to stay strong and beautiful, just for me.

It was several nights before I approached him again. He stiffened in anger. "Don't be like that, my pet," I whispered as I lay down next to him.

"Not your pet," he hissed.

He could continue telling himself that, I supposed. But it was pointless. It didn't change anything. He was my pet, my possession, my prize, no matter what he thought.

I gently ran my fingers along his bare chest, where I could already feel that deep growl moving to vibrate his chest. One of these days his chest would vibrate at my touch, but it would not be a growl. It would be a purr. He would enjoy my touch, crave it even. He would love me. And strangely, I found myself wanting him to love me. It wasn't just a desire to dominate, either. That's what it had been with the others. They defied me as humans, so I had turned them.

But when they broke—as they invariably did—when they submitted to my desires, when the wanted it, I lost interest. It became more fun to toy with them, to let them think I was going to give them what they wanted and snatch it away at the last second.

But something about Bryce was different. I could tell that I wasn't going to grow bored with Bryce. I was going to have him. He was going to love me, and I was going to keep him, care for him. Forever.

I continued running the tips of my fingers across the naked flesh of his chest and abdomen. And I felt him shiver. But I felt it in my heart, my very blood, not at my fingertips. Even as he restrained himself physically, he could not hide his real reaction from me. "You like that?" I whispered, stroking his chest. "Do you like the way it feels to have me touch you, love?" I felt a shudder run down my spine and through my blood, but it was far too strong to be something I was picking up from Bryce. What was wrong with me? Why did I react like that to calling him love?

I called all the others love at one point or another. Why was Bryce so much different? Different was understandable, of course, since I cared about him, when I hadn't cared about the others. But this much different? It made no sense. Unless… unless I was actually in love with Bryce. Which was ridiculous.

What was even more ridiculous was that the truth I felt in that realization didn't bother me at all.

"What the hell did you do to me?" he hissed. He felt it then. The bond was growing stronger, or he was growing more sensitive. The thought of the first possibility pleased me, to the point where I almost began purring. Almost. Come to that, though, I was pleased at the thought of him simply being more sensitive to the bond that already existed.

"I did nothing, my pet," I answered. "You simply felt my desire. We have a bond, you and I."

"No we don't," he snarled. "I will never have a bond with you."

"Ah," I sighed, standing reluctantly. "But you already do. An unbreakable bond. The blood bond of a vampire and his master." I grinned. "Or in your case a pet and his master." He bristled inwardly at my change in word choice. He even preferred vampire to being called my pet. Interesting. I'd have to keep that in mind. "It will be there until one of us perishes. And obviously I am not going to die. And I shan't let you die, either, even if I have to keep you locked up for all eternity."

He froze, staring. "You're serious," he finally said. "You've been serious this whole time, you fucking bastard."

"Oh, Bryce, dear, don't be that way," I sighed, mimicking disappointment. "That kind of language is unfit for a mouth as beautiful as yours." I grinned my most menacing smile, letting my teeth gleam in the nonexistent light. But he could see them. "And as for fucking… we haven't gotten that far yet."

The horror on his face was beautiful, twisting those lovely features into a mask of pure anger and terror. I loved it. "You're sick," he finally got out.

"If being a vampire is a disease, then yes, I am sick," I agreed amiably, smiling kindly. I didn't remember the last time I had smiled like that. "But then on the other hand, I don't particularly mind this illness. I quite enjoy it, really."

He suddenly began struggling against his bindings again. I walked to my chair and sat down, picking up a book and reading it to the delightful sound of metal clanking against metal across the room.

It was the next day that I laid down next to him that I began to truly have fun. As I trailed my fingers down his chest and abdominal muscles, I didn't stop at his navel. My hand touched his shaft lightly. But the growl that issued from his throat was quite contradictory to the lust I felt lurch within him. But just because his body wanted it… that wasn't enough. Vampires always want more. Our sex drives are insatiable. But I wanted him to want me. I wanted him to want me as I wanted him. I wanted him to love me as I now knew I loved him.

So my touches were gentle, and I could feel him twitch beneath my hands. First his body as he tried to fight off the desire, then his cock as he failed immensely. I rubbed it, up and down, feeling the blood rush into it, stiffening it. And when I could see he was about ready to go mad from trying to prevent himself from liking it, I stopped. I leaned in and kissed his cheek. "I knew you liked me to touch you, my pet. Your body tells far more than you admit out loud." The bond revealed far more than he knew.

"Quit calling me that."

I ignored his words of course. He was my pet. I loved him. I had to take care of him. He was something to be played with, something that was supposed to enjoy the attention. Even in his anger, his erection was pulsing and I could feel that he wanted me to touch him again, to touch him until he went over the edge of ecstasy. But I didn't. I watched him as he deflated.

And the anger grew. And the desire grew with it. My lips twitched into a grin more often than I would have liked. I was making progress. I went out and I fed, bringing a young boy home. He was probably thirteen. When he saw Bryce trapped on the bed, naked and exposed, he yelped and scrambled for the door. But I gripped his shoulders and led him to the bedside, where I blew gently in Bryce's ear as I rubbed his cock. Get him worked up. It would be more enjoyable to watch his distress when he couldn't actually have the boy. The boy was panicking as I touched Bryce in places he thought I shouldn't be touching. He simply didn't understand. But he didn't have to. He was Bryce's reward for being good.

I released Bryce's hands from the chains and he immediately lunged at the boy. Bryce began tearing at the boy's clothing, and the boy shouted for help. But then Bryce registered that he couldn't do anything. Not with his ankles chained. No matter how strong his lust, the boy was fighting to much for my pet to do anything, bound as he was. So he skipped the sex and went straight for the child's neck. The boy didn't cry for long. His eyes drifted shut, he passed out, he passed away. It was a beautiful sight.

More beautiful still was the blood dripping from Bryce's lips. I went up to him, and he hissed at me, holding the boy to him protectively. I raised my eyebrows. Perhaps I needed to feed him more. He was far too protective of his food, even though he should have known it was a gift, that I wouldn't try to take it back. I leaned over the boy and kissed Bryce. He froze, and I could tell he didn't know what to do. Hold onto his already empty body or push me away. I licked his lips clean. Human blood mixed with essence of Bryce. The most delectable taste in the world.

I ran my tongue along his lips one last time before I pulled away. That's when he began moving, dropping the body in favor of touching himself, in an effort to relieve the sexual urges he couldn't control. But I grabbed his hands and replaced the shackles. "Ah, ah, ah," I warned. "That is no long allowed, my pet. Only I am allowed."

"I'm not allowed to touch my own body?" he hissed. "You—"

"Sadistic bastard," I finished. "I have not harmed you, have I my pet? I have given you no more than you wanted." I removed the boy's body to another bed and returned, picking up where Bryce had left off. I slid my hand up and down his erection, watching as he fought against it. But then it was too much and he moaned. It was almost painful for me to hear. That's how badly I wanted to take him then. Suppressing the purr that was building in my chest hurt as well. So I contented myself with continuing, moving my hands a bit faster, squeezing a bit tighter but not enough to hurt. And then his back arched up, making his chains clank together. I did all I could to make the orgasm last.

When it ended, he was silent, but I could feel him seething. It enraged him that I—of all people—could give him that kind of pleasure. I smiled, and I honestly wasn't sure if it was one of my smiles meant to terrify or if I was actually happy. A bit of both, perhaps. "See, my dear pet? I give you no more than you want, no more than you are ready for."

He didn't answer, but the boiling rage continued. And yet… I could tell it wasn't directed at me. It was directed at himself, for allowing himself to give into me as he had. "Oh, love," I whispered, once again feeling the electric shock of the word. "Don't be angry with yourself. You did nothing wrong."

A hiss slipped past his lips. He was so beautiful. I kissed him again. "You're beautiful, my pet. That's why I'm keeping you. No one else deserves such beauty."

I could tell what he was thinking. He was thinking that a sadistic bastard like myself didn't deserve any kind of beauty.

The next night I bought him some new clothes. I removed his shackles and handed them to him. He stared at them. "Is this a joke?" he asked.

"No, my pet," I answered, petting his hair. He needed a haircut. I did too, come to that.

"There is no way these are going to fit," he hissed in anger.

I shrugged. "It's up to you, love." My blood tingled as it always did, with the thrill of that word. I was growing to expect it. I enjoyed the sensation. He tensed. He hated the pleasure it brought me, and he hated the word itself. "I simply thought you might like to cover up. I quite like you as you are."

He growled and pulled on the boxers and yanked on the skinny jeans. They were tight enough that I could still appreciate every aspect of him. Not as well as if he was naked, perhaps, but well enough. I hadn't provided a shirt.

I didn't replace his shackles, letting him wander the small space. Once he approached the door, but when he touched it, the ward repelled him quite effectively. He hissed at it defensively, as though making that noise toward an inanimate object was effective in any way. But he never hissed at me. He ignored me entirely.

It was a few weeks before I decided him feed again. I kept my hands to myself until then as well. I didn't eat till then.

But before I left the anger returned full force when I forced him back onto his bed and back into his chains. Except this time I used the more powerful ones. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't even blink or move his eyes. That was how completely my magic tied him. I directed his face towards the bed that had been Rebecca's. I wanted him to watch.

I brought two girls back with me. They were both in their early twenties, giggling at the thought of such a handsome man taking them home. I had promised them that my friend was there. But when we arrived, I chained one of them to the wall. They were weak enough that Bryce's hand cuffs could function as regular bindings, since that kind of magic didn't affect humans. The girl whimpered. "Quiet," I commanded, holding her friend. She fell silent. Neither of them could see, obviously. But I could see clearly. Bryce could see perfectly as I stripped the girl of her clothing. As I stripped off my clothing.

The lust was throbbing in his chest. "You want this?" I asked him. I could hear the yes that he couldn't say out loud. The yes he wouldn't have admitted even if he could speak. Of course, at that point I had no way of knowing if it was me or the girl he wanted. I liked to think it was me.

"Yes," the girl whispered. So I took her, but it was Bryce I watched as I fucked her. She cried out, sometimes in pleasure, sometimes in pain. I liked the cries of pain better. And all the while I could feel Bryce's insides squirming with desire. His desire climaxed as I let out a moan. It was intentional, because I knew it would drive him up the wall if he could hear my orgasm. And then I bit into her neck, quickly draining her dry.

I stood and dressed slowly, letting him watch. "Haley?" the other girl whispered. "Haley, are you there? Are you okay?" Haley, of course, didn't answer. I walked up to the girl.

"Haley is dead, dearest," she jumped and screamed at my closeness, my approach too silent and the room too dark.

"Wh-what are you g-going to d-do t-to me?" she asked, terrified.

"Me?" I asked. "Nothing. I'm going to give you to my friend. What he does with you is entirely up to you. You did come here to have sex with him, didn't you?" I asked. Best get the permission thing out of the way.

"Y-yes, but—"

"Shhh," I hushed. "No buts." I undid her chains and led her over to Bryce's bed, sitting her down next to him. She shivered. We were too cold. "I'm going to help you guys," I informed her.

"No," she said immediately. I guess she thought I wanted a threesome. Hardly. She was not that attractive, and I had very little interest in women. They were often just easier to obtain. More of them were willing to admit they were attracted to me.

"You don't understand, dear," I said. "Bryce is my pet. No one is allowed to touch him but me. I won't touch you, but you won't touch him. Please undress." Her fear was obviously great, because she shakily did as I asked, fumbling with the button of her jeans.

I removed Bryce's clothes and manacles and began touching him. He pushed my hands away. I grabbed his wrists with one hand and pinned them against the wall. With my other hand I continued touching him, pleasuring him. "Get on the bed," I told the girl. She did and I could feel her trembling. I smiled at Bryce. "You've been good, my pet. There is your reward."

"Sadistic bastard," he hissed. But the moment I released his hands he was on top of her, driving into her. She cried out in pain, and he slowed down. I sat across the room and watched, jealousy twisting inside me. I wanted him to want me like that. He was slow and gentle, continuing until she came. A deliciously twisted smile came onto his face and he continued and I could feel the rush in his blood as he hit his climax. He continued thrusting into her as he bit down on her neck. Then he was distracted by the blood and stopped fucking her, focusing on the sweet liquid pouring from her veins. It was odd, watching him. Perhaps I was more sadistic than I thought. He made sure she enjoyed it. I always made sure they didn't.

But I wanted him to enjoy it. He finished and I took the body from him and laid it on the bed next to her friend. "Good, no?" I asked.

To my surprise he answered, "Yes."

He was accepting what he was then. Good. I licked my lips. "The better you behave, the more often I will give you that reward, my pet." I grinned. "Although I'm sure you felt my jealousy. I could feel yours. I put that show on just for you."

He flinched. I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. He pushed me away. "Don't call me pet."

"You sound like a broken record, love."

"I am not your pet, nor am I your love."

"Oh, but you are mine," I said. "And you shall be whatever I wish you to be."

He grimaced. "Sadistic."

"Yes," I mused. "I am." Would I really be able to enjoy taking Bryce for myself if he wanted it? If it didn't cause him pain? Well, it would cause him some pain, even if he wanted it. But I think I could enjoy it even if it didn't hurt him. Perhaps more if it didn't hurt him. "Now Bryce, you never did answer my question. How old are you?"

"Twenty eight," he answered. "How old are you?"

I grinned. "One thousand nine hundred and sixty eight."

He stared. "That's why my bindings didn't work. You were much older than they said."

I nodded. "Only my master's other apprentices know how old I really am. The others have… deluded myself into thinking there's a possibility of killing me. If they even knew where I was."

He laid down on his bed. It was a long time before he finally whispered. "Thank you."

I laid down next to him. "You're welcome, my pet," I purred. He was warming up to me. I could ask nothing more of him at the moment.

"Don't call me that." He still wasn't warming up to the nickname. That would come in time.

It was a few days later that I brought him more food. Once again he was bound so that he could make no noise. My food was male this time, his female. I really wasn't sure if he had a sexual preference. Not that it mattered. To vampires, for the most part, sex is sex. We generally like one more than the other, but we're not too picky. And one day Bryce's only sexual preference was going to be me. As my only real preference was already him.

But I let him watch again, bound by the handcuffs. He wasn't quite so angry this time, probably because he knew that once I was finished, he would get his turn. And there isn't much you can do to suppress your very nature. He liked it when I touched him, he liked the sex that immediately preceded feeding. There was nothing he could do to change that, and he was adjusting to what he was quite nicely. I got the distinct impression that he was actually beginning to like it.

It's hard not to.

But when I chained the girl to the wall, she was sobbing. "Shut up," I said. She didn't.

I stripped the man of his clothing since it was too dark for him to see, and then I undressed myself. I pulled him onto the bed, dragging him down on top of me. Let him think he was in charge. He was kissing me, frantically. I felt him getting hard, and I could feel my own erection forming. He really didn't understand what he was getting himself into. I wasn't paying much attention to him. I was watching Bryce, imagining that it was him wanting me this badly. Then the man asked if I had lubricant. I grabbed it off the nightstand and handed it to me. I waited patiently as he coated his fingers and stuck them inside me. It was uncomfortable, letting him do this to me. But it would be worth it, when he realized that he was not the one in charge of the situation. He thickly coated my opening and then he smeared the lube over his penis as well.

But the moment he had gotten into position, preparing to enter me, I flipped us over so that I was on top. And I forced my way into the tight, hot, wet space. Screw lubricant. Their screams weren't as loud. And his cries were beautiful. They made me growl in pleasure as I screwed him, fucking him deeper and deeper, as his opening continually tightened around me, almost to the point where I couldn't pull back out.

I continued fucking him, even as I bit his neck and sucked his blood. I only stopped thrusting forward when he passed out. It wasn't any good when they went limp like that.

And even as all this happened, I only watched Bryce, my love, my pet. I wanted to take him like that. Well, with him I might use the lubricant. I had the brief thought that I might care about my pet a little bit too much. But a brushed the thought aside. Bryce couldn't hurt me.

When the man had no life left to lend me, I licked the wound one final time and stood. This time I didn't get dressed. I walked over to Bryce and sat down next to him, touching the shackles and allowing them to fall away. "Touch me, my pet," I commanded him.

"No," he growled. "I won't."

My eyes narrowed. "Why not? Don't you wish to make your master happy?"

"No. Because I am not your pet."

"Oh, Bryce, but you are," I insisted. I was growing tired of this conversation. I just wanted him to see the truth in my statement. "Now touch me, or I shall have that girl over there touch me for you."

There was a jealous growl. The bond let me hear the jealousy. I just couldn't tell if it was jealousy that I would get to eat a second time and he wouldn't get to eat at all, or if he was jealous of the girl for being allowed to touch me where he couldn't. I let myself think it was the latter. He didn't move. So I stood and grabbed the girl's chains. "Wait," he said. "Come back."

I smiled. He looked angry with himself. But then when I sat down next to him on the bed, my arm around the girl, he began stroking my dick, gently at first, then rubbing it harder. It felt good, far too good. I let him continue, as I imagined that he was allowing me to take him completely, to fuck him hard and deep and fast and long. And I purred gently. I wanted him. I let go of the girl. She wouldn't be able to find the door anyway, since no light penetrated this dark hole. And then I pulled Bryce's pants down, just past the knees. I was going to take him, right now. I didn't care about anything else.

He continued touching me, even as I reached out to touch him. He was already hard. "You enjoy touching me like this, my pet," I accused, my chest humming with pleasure.

I moved so that I was straddling him, our erections rubbing against each other. "No," he spit. "I'm not your pet, and I'm not enjoying it. I'm thinking about the girl. Give her to me."

I could hear her staggering around the room as she searched desperately for the way out. "No, my pet," I answered. "I'm not done with you quite yet." I had every intention of fucking him, right then. If he was still in the mood, he could eat afterwards. If not… we could save her for later.

"Do your worst," he spit at me. "That doesn't mean I'm giving up, you bastard." And with that he squeezed my shaft, hard. I flinched backward, knowing it should hurt. But I'm a vampire, so it didn't.

But that defiance made me appreciate him even more. Even after watching me with my last meal, he wasn't afraid of me. I smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek. Then I swung my long legs off the bed and retrieved the girl, dragging her back to Bryce. "You aren't to touch him, miss," I informed her. "That is my place only." I looked at Bryce. "And I know you enjoyed touching me, my pet. Almost as much as you enjoy having my hands on you."

He didn't seem to hear me because he was already quite occupied by the blood pouring from the girl's neck. Well, that's interesting. His jealousy wasn't because he was afraid of not getting the sex then. It was either jealousy of the food, or jealousy that he wouldn't get to place his hands on me. I was seriously beginning to think it was the latter; he had gotten enough pleasure from it at the very least.

Our lives continued that way for a while, my keeping him in the basement, talking our way through the days, me doing most of the talking since he was always angry with me, even though I rarely kept him chained up anymore. He was too weak to break through the wards, so I generally allowed him free run of the place, even when I left for the night.

I would bring him food, and he would watch as I took them for myself. And I would always watch him as I did it. I would always imagine that it was him I was taking. And I think he sensed that, but he never said anything. And then I would sit on his lap and let him touch me, rubbing me until I couldn't keep myself from purring. I would pleasure him, too, and then he would have his meal. And more often than not, he didn't fuck them, like a normal vampire. My touch seemed to be enough to satisfy his sexual needs. Which pleased me deeply. He didn't need to touch them and he didn't need to be touched by them. He just needed me. He was my pet.

Not that he ever conceded that.

And then, when he had been with me for nearly two years, my burial ground was discovered. Many victims, and all the ones whose flesh remained… it was obvious what had killed them. Exsanguination via two puncture wounds on the neck. They also said nearly half the victims had been raped, but that's not true. They told us it was okay. Just because they changed their minds… for a vampire, what's said is said. You cannot take it back. If you wanted it once, you wanted it always.

Of course, in the months preceding it, I had been growing less and less fond of going that far. I was finding that other forms of pain made me happier. Ones that didn't involve removing their clothing. Ones that didn't involve letting them touch me. I was finding that Bryce was more than enough. Which bewildered me.

But when the burial ground was discovered, the police were on a manhunt. They thought they could stop me. They were delusional. But they went so far as to accept help from the few young vampires that stepped forward. The ones in their three hundreds and four hundreds who wanted me dead. Fools, all of them.

So I took Bryce, binding him in his shackles, and disappeared. We left the city. It was difficult to get away. We didn't have anywhere planned where we could be sure that no daylight would reach us. We ended up spending most days locked in bathrooms in motels, with towels jammed up against the cracks of both doors and the windows taped down. Bryce wasn't pleased to spend all that time close to me.

But then I found a man willing to rent out his basement. The person who had owned it before him had used it as a dark room, and he hadn't changed much. It was perfect. And then I decided not to risk him finding out what we were and call the cops. I killed him. They never did find that body.

We stayed in that house for a long time, just me and Bryce, visited every couple days by people who had a tendency to turn up dead months later. He was my pet, and he was growing used to me. And then one night I impulsively asked him, "Would you like to go out with me tonight?"

"What?" he asked. I had startled him. But his heart leapt at the idea of getting out.

"Do you want to find your own food tonight?" I asked him.

"Yes," he answered immediately. "Of course."

I nodded. "You won't leave my sight, of course. I'm faster than you, stronger than you, and I would know beforehand what you intended to do. So any attempt to run is futile and would do nothing more than anger me," I informed him.

"Sure, sure," he said. He didn't sound frustrated or disappointed, and the bond was giving me nothing of the sort. He just wanted to get out of the house. He had no problem with coming back, if he could only have a night's change of scenery.

We roamed the streets that night, and he made no attempt to escape. We didn't bother to go back to the house. We got our meals in a bar, killed them in the nearest alley, and left them there to be found by police the next morning.

"Good job, love," I complimented when we got home.

He ignored me, until I came up behind him, wrapping my arms around him and rubbing his stomach. "Marco…" By that time, he had begun calling me by my name instead of 'sadistic bastard.' That probably had something to do with the fact that I only kept him contained with simple wards on the doors and windows, and the fact that I only rarely screwed my food before eating it. And when I did that, he wasn't around. I didn't always eat in front of him.

I slipped my hand into his pants, and he let out an involuntary groan. Suppressed desires are powerful things. I could feel my own suppressed desires coming out in my own jeans as well as his beneath my hand. I ground myself up against him, and he didn't object. Odd. I felt his blood writhing with pleasure. He liked it. He liked feeling my hardness press against him. "You like this, pet?" I asked. "Do you like how much you turn me on? Do you like the way it feels?" I felt his heart buck against my words, but it seemed to be more against my continued use of the word pet than anything else.

"No," he snapped at me, but he didn't try to move away.

It was almost dawn before we stopped, and then it wasn't voluntary. I didn't want to stop grinding up against him, feeling him press backwards against me, feeling his hardness under my hand. But the sun. It forced us down the stairs to the basement and the moment was lost.

I got that close to him only a few times in the course of the next ten years, but ten years means little. Not when you're a vampire who's been around almost two millennia. But then one night, I found that I was hungry. Not for human lifeblood, not for sex, but for Bryce. He would be mine. That night. No matter what.

I trapped him in a corner of the basement. "Marco," he objected, probably to something in my eyes. He knew how to read my eyes by now, how to read what the different sensations caused by the bond meant. And he didn't like the signals he was getting.

I dragged him to the bed and stripped him of his clothing. He fought back, which didn't surprise me in the slightest. But it did excite me. I began kissing him, holding him to the bed with my body weight. He thrashed around beneath me, trying to push me off, but he was still young, still weak. "Marco, get off," he commanded.

"No, my pet," I growled. "I want you. And you're mine, to do with as I please."

As I said that, I shifted so that I was sitting on his stomach, straddling him. I'm sure he could tell how hard I already was. He was hard too, but he didn't know what was about to happen. He didn't know that tonight was the night he was going to get everything. He didn't know that I was going to take what I should have taken ten years ago.

So he was surprised when I pulled out the lubricant and coated my fingers. And he got angry when I pulled apart his cheeks and inserted a single finger. I groaned with pleasure. I was finally taking Bryce. I was finally inside him. I felt around for several minutes, feeling the growl building in his chest. But he wasn't moving.

I pulled my fingers out, and I felt him tense up. He knew what was coming then. I recoated my fingers, spreading some of it across the outside of the opening. It wasn't as though it would hurt him if I didn't use lubricant. It would just be more enjoyable for him. A smoother ride. More enjoyable for me, perhaps, since I wasn't doing this for the pain.

I then stuck two fingers inside him, spreading them apart slowly, loosening his muscles in every direction. He groaned and I felt him shudder. He was enjoying it then. "You like this, love?" I demanded. "Are you ready for me to fuck you?"

"No," he spat. "Never. I will never let you do that to me."

And he began fighting me. In vain of course. He was pushing at my hands and me, since I still sat atop him, and he was straining with every muscle in his body to push me out. But he shuddered every once in a while, his blood, if not his body, so I knew that his movement was making it more pleasurable for him. So I moved my fingers more, to distract him. And then as he struggled more, I got ready to take him. Completely.

And then I realized that I was still completely dressed. I got angry at that. But by the time I had pulled my fingers out and undressed myself, he was quite effectively on the defensive. So I grabbed his hand and put it on me. "Touch me, my pet," I hissed. "Feel me. Feel what you're going to feel inside you someday soon."

He growled, but began to stroke me, seeming to understand that it would prevent me from pounding him. At least for the time being. And then without warning, he slipped his hand underneath me and jammed his fingers into me, quickly scissoring them apart. It was uncomfortable and unbelievably pleasing at the same time. I moaned as he continued, touching him, making him harder and harder. It continued until I climaxed. And it was less than a second after I hit my peak that he hit his, as though he was waiting for me. We came down, and I patted his cheek. "Good boy," I whispered.

"I'm not your pet," he said, but the words were far less forceful than normal. Perhaps it was because of the high we were coming down from, perhaps it was something was breaking inside him and he was finally beginning to see the truth.

I had the sudden thought that I had left my clothes on on purpose. I hadn't meant to go all the way tonight. I was saving that. For when he wanted it. Because I loved him, and I wanted nothing more in the world than to have him love me.

This continued for several years. We stayed together, went out to eat, came back home. Some days we would talk, and he grew more and more open. Less and less angry. And then one night I went out without putting the wards up. He was still there when I came back.

"I didn't put the wards up," I told him.

"I know," he answered. "I saw no point in leaving. I am safe here. It is quite protected from the sun. It is easy to obtain food. And…"

"And what, my pet?" I asked. "And you wouldn't be able to live without my touch?"

"I'm not your pet," he said. But it was said mildly, not growled or snapped or spit.

So I walked up to him and began touching him. It started as it usually did. I removed his clothes, and we fingered each other's heads and shafts as we got hard. And then, at the same moment, we moved in, pressing our fingers into the tight space holes, our arms wrapped around each other. I felt his insides squirm with pleasure, as they had many times before. But then he moaned. He didn't usually do that. And when he did it was always cut short by his desire to prevent me from knowing how much he liked it. But this one continued. And as I stuck my fingers in farther, wiggling them around, he moaned louder. And he was enjoying it so much that he had stopped moving, which simply frustrated me. I had no intention of giving him this kind of pleasure if I got nothing in return. He was the pet, after all, I the master. I loved him, of course, but that wasn't the point.

But then he groaned out, "More, Marco, go farther."

He wanted more? I'd not heard that before. And that pleased me enough that I complied, shoving my fingers in as deep as they would go, scissoring them back and forth, feeling the muscles loosen and then almost immediately tighten again. His back arched up in ecstasy and he cried out in pleasure. "More, Marco, please." He was obviously no longer in control of what he was saying. His internal desires had entirely taken over.

"There is only one way I can give you more, my pet," I whispered, pulling myself off of his fingers, continuing to moving my fingers inside him, feeling the soft, smooth, familiar walls. I loved him so much.

"Sure," he gasped. "Anything, Marco."

So before he could change his mind, I pulled my fingers out and replaced them with my hardened flesh, fucking him the way I'd been wanting to for more than fifteen years. He cried out, but it wasn't any kind of objection. It actually sounded like something between my name and the word more. He wanted this. He had always wanted this. He was just finally admitting it.

And now there was no way I was going to be able to stop myself. I wanted this too badly. Fortunately, he didn't seem to want me to stop. I dove in harder, and he shuddered violently, and as I pulled out, he hardly had time to gasp, "Do that again."

I did it, repeatedly, enjoying every moment of fucking Bryce harder than I'd ever fucked anyone before. Of course, I got no screams of pain, since he was a vampire, and he didn't fight because he wanted it just as much as I did. But that didn't lessen the experience somehow. It was the best sex I'd ever had, and the only thing my pet could say throughout the entire thing was, "More, Marco. Please. Deeper. Harder. Marco. More." I had no problem complying to these requests.

It was hours before we stopped. That's another advantage of being undead. You don't get tired. So good sex can last as long as you want it to—provided it doesn't kill the person, if it happens to be your food. And with Bryce, it was a long time before we decided it was enough for one night. But I felt the desire and pleasure waning in him at the exact moment it began to lessen in me. So I pounded down into him a few last times, then pulled out and lay down next to him, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him close. He was mine. He might not admit it, but he was. I was happy. Neither of us spoke for a few days, simply enjoying the feel of the other in our arms, coming down from that high very, very slowly. But then he decided to break the silence.

"I love you, Marco," he whispered.

I hadn't been expecting that. "I love you too, Bryce," I answered back , my chest thrumming with pleasure. He loved me. "I love you so much, my pet."

And when I called him that, he purred.