Serving the Immortals

by Katie Douglas

  “Just salad dressing, but I already made some. It’s in the chiller.”

  “Hannah, are you avoiding serving food by cleaning the oven at lunchtime?” I asked.

  “Sort of. Monique said you had to do it, little sister, and I was to make sure you got it done, but I felt bad just standing around, so I thought I’d get on with my cleaning list.”

  I would never understand how Hannah had ended up being the dominant partner in our relationship. She was so nice; so soft. I sometimes felt like I ought to take charge of her and tell Monique to get bent once and for all, but Hannah was so obedient to Monique, and it was difficult for me to understand the nuances of their relationship. It didn’t help that I didn’t know where I stood with Monique. All I knew was that I had been drawn to her since I first saw her. When I thought about it, I couldn’t even explain how my relationship with Hannah worked, and Hannah was consistently a caring and thoughtful person, even if she sometimes confused me.

  I served the salad, trying my best to be invisible. One of the women complained that it was rabbit food, but everyone else seemed glad of the healthier fare, and I hurried back to the kitchen without anyone else photographing me while I wore the sign.

  After lunch was cleared away, Monique summoned Hannah and me to the study.

  Chapter Ten

  The study was a large, oak-paneled room with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covering one wall. Another wall had a window, set into the wooden panels and framed by heavy velvet curtains. Monique was fond of velvet. I wondered why Hannah and I were standing before Monique’s intricately carved wooden desk, as she lounged behind it with a wine glass in one hand and a cigar in the other.

  “I trust your new uniform fits correctly?” She drew on her cigar and waited for a response. I started to color red again.

  “The skirt is too short,” I complained.

  Monique stared at me like I was some kind of new species of insect, then drew on her cigar again before speaking.

  “Have you ever wondered about why some trees have leaves which grow and die, year after year, while others remain green forever?”

  I was completely wrong-footed by her question. What did this have to do with the problem of my dress?

  “I’ve never wondered, no,” I replied, deciding to be direct.

  “Some trees are only beautiful in the summer. Others remain beautiful all the time, but in doing so, they become commonplace. Nobody looks forward to seeing the pine tree in May, for example. The cherry tree, however… it is so fleeting, but intrinsically special. If the cherry trees blossomed year-round, and the pine trees only grew their needles for one or two brief months, which would people yearn to see?”

  I didn’t understand what she was getting at.

  “Human life is so brief, Sabine. We sanguine ones are the evergreen trees which blossom eternally. Unless someone cuts one of us down.” She glared at Hannah as she said that. Hannah averted her gaze. I inferred that Monique was still unhappy that Hannah had killed the older vampire’s mistress.

  “You were a cherry tree, Sabine, and you are now a pine tree. Your outlook needs to change; you will live for at least several centuries longer than you expected. You can do that as my adherent, or you can try to grow as a single tree on a lonely hill, where eventually some hapless human will cut you down and turn you into a Christmas tree. Am I making myself clear?”

  She wasn’t. The veiled threat was obvious but I didn’t really understand the rest of it.

  “Yes, Mistress.” The words came out of my mouth before my brain could catch them and switch them for something that accurately reflected my thoughts.

  “Good. If you are obedient and sensible, you will not have to find out what it feels like when a human turns you into kindling.” This time, her words were clear. If I didn’t follow her, I would be on my own.

  “Yes, Mistress.” This time I at least knew what I was agreeing to.

  “Which brings me to you, Hannah.” She drew on her cigar again then put it out in a crystal glass ashtray.

  “Mistress?” Hannah sounded surprised.

  “This morning, when Sabine came to the kitchen to assist you, and you saw that she was attired inappropriately, what did you do to remedy the situation?”

  I closed my eyes and realized I was about to be in a lot more trouble when Monique discovered I’d lied to Hannah this morning.

  Hannah frowned, clearly struggling to explain herself. “I… uh… assumed that her uniform had required some alteration and I asked her to help serve breakfast, like you had instructed me, Mistress.”

  Hannah was bad at making things up on the spot, and I felt so bad that she was making excuses for me, especially since it must have been so transparent to Monique.

  “Did you not question her, Hannah? Did it not strike you as peculiar that I might have led you to expect one thing, and another thing happened instead?”

  Hannah closed her eyes. “No, Mistress.”

  Monique sighed heavily and took a drink from her wineglass. She eyed me and then looked back to Hannah. I didn’t want Hannah to get into trouble because of me.

  “I lied to Hannah!” I blurted out. Monique cocked her head toward me in surprise.

  “And now Hannah has lied to me. So you are both due the same punishment for the same crime. Hannah, bring me my favorite cane. Sabine, accompany her to the cupboard where I keep my instruments of punishment.”

  Without asking for further details, she let us leave.

  Hannah looked furious. “Why did you do that?” she hissed as we walked down the hallway.

  “I didn’t want you getting in trouble for something I did! I’m sorry. I thought she’d just punish me!”

  “Did you think I might be trying to keep you safe, little sister?” Hannah replied. “Now I’m getting punished anyway, and I have to watch you get punished. And that’s going to be much worse. All I ever want is to protect you from the messed-up world you’ve landed in.” Her face was pale and her eyes were wide.

  “I’m sorry. I really am. I just couldn’t let you take the blame. How bad is it going to be? It’s not like I set the house on fire or anything.”

  “She’s asked me to bring her Darktooth; that’s her favorite and second most fearsome cane.” Hannah reached a cupboard and opened it. I stared inside, barely able to believe what I saw. I had no idea there were so many variations of swishy hitty sticks, and I didn’t know why one woman needed to possess all of them.

  “It’s this one.” Hannah took it reverentially and I closed the cupboard doors then hurried to follow her. “You’ve never even felt her lightest cane so it’s probably going to be much worse for you.”

  She handed Monique the cane. I was still staring at it in disbelief that anyone would use it.

  “Stand in that corner, Sabine, and remain still,” Monique said. I was compelled this time; she clearly wasn’t giving me the opportunity to resist.

  “Bend over my desk, Hannah.”

  I heard Hannah move slightly, and I was still convinced this wouldn’t be so bad. Then I heard the swishing sound, followed by a sort of plinking sound, as it landed on Hannah’s bottom. She gasped, and I wished I could see what was happening. Had Monique really used a cane on Hannah’s bottom? Was there a red line across her cheeks? Did that happen?

  When I heard the same sounds again, I tried to turn my head but Monique’s will was holding me in place.

  After four of them, I heard Hannah start to cry, and my stomach started to do flip-flops.

  “Get that derrière up, Hannah,” Monique ordered. It was making my panties wet to know that Hannah’s bare bottom was displayed over Monique’s desk, where Monique was wielding her cane over Hannah’s upturned cheeks. I wanted to see so bad that for a moment I forgot that this was about to happen to my bottom, too. Then I remembered and I felt nervous again.

  When Monique stopped, I had counted six strokes. Hannah continued crying.

  “Get up and stand in the other corner. Keep your skirt u
p; I want that bottom on display,” Monique ordered. I heard Hannah moving slowly, then Monique spoke again. “Sabine, come here, please.”

  I turned and the first thing I noticed was the set of perfectly straight angry purple stripes on Hannah’s bottom. I shook my head, but my legs still walked me to Monique’s desk. I stood before it; I knew she probably wanted me over the desk, but I was intent to draw this out for as long as possible.

  “Bend forward, and push your bottom up; you’re in just as much trouble as Hannah, young lady.” Monique tapped my ass impatiently with the cane as I tried to arrange myself correctly. She turned back my skirt and slid my panties down my legs. My pussy was already dripping wet from hearing Hannah’s punishment and seeing the lines on her skin as she stood in the corner. When Monique sighed, I knew she had seen my arousal, and that was so humiliating that my face flushed. I wasn’t sure if I was more scared or aroused, but when the whistling sound stopped abruptly, I wasn’t ready for the line of fire that exploded in my bottom, and I shrieked in surprise, standing up and covering my flaming bottom with my hands.

  “Get back into position.” Monique’s usually seductive voice now trembled slightly, and I wondered what she had expected me to do.

  “It hurts,” I stated through gritted teeth.

  She seized a handful of my hair and pulled my head back, making my pussy spasm.

  “It’s supposed to. You were disobedient. That’s one extra stroke for not remaining in position.” She released my hair and I waited, tensely, for the next one. I was certain that I couldn’t take six more of these.

  The second stroke was just as hard as the first, and I picked up one of my legs as I tried to stay still; the sharp burn lingered in a self-contained line beside the first one as I arched my spine down into the desk to make sure my bottom stayed up. The idea of that cane accidentally landing near my clit terrified me.

  The third one was spaced out further, and it meant that my bottom was now burning in a wide area. I felt my eyes watering and I knew I was crying before I saw the first drops fall onto the polished wood. The fourth stroke made me cry harder, and it seemed to land on top of two of the others. I stamped one of my feet and tried hard not to stand upright in case Monique added more strokes. When the fifth stroke sizzled into my cheeks, I started to babble.

  “Please, I’m sorry! I’ll do what you say next time, I’ll be truthful, pleeease,” I begged.

  Monique paused for a moment, and caressed the deep curve from my waist to my bottom. I cringed as her fingers touched the same places that the cane had landed.

  “Of course you will, my little bird. Now you need to be strong and take your punishment, like your big sister Hannah,” she murmured, as her hand wandered to my wet pussy. I held my breath while I waited to find out if I was in more trouble because I’d become so aroused. Surely she’d be displeased?

  “Interesting,” she purred, then before I could make sense of her reaction, the cane swooshed down on my cheeks again, right on my sit-spots, and it was so unexpected that I screamed, then resumed crying again, as I waited for the final one. Monique was in no hurry to finish it, however, and I was there for over a minute before she finally landed the last one. It was low, where the curve of my bottom met the top of my legs, and it made me howl through my tears.

  “Get up and into the corner, Sabine,” she said, and I felt her pull me upright. In a daze, I staggered to the corner feeling like a Heffalump.

  “Remember this, both of you. I do not tolerate being lied to. If you two conspire to keep anything from me again, I will give you both twelve strokes of my hardest cane.” She spoke sternly, then I heard footsteps, before her chair creaked, then there was the sound of a wine bottle being uncorked and poured into a glass. A cigarette lighter followed, and I gathered she was smoking her cigar and drinking the red wine again, while Hannah and I waited in separate corners; I was still crying and I was sure Hannah’s bottom must be burning at least as much as mine was.

  I felt resolved to never do anything to earn a caning again.

  So why was my clit pulsing, my pussy soaking, and my nipples straining against my dress as I held the skirt up behind me to display my bottom?

  Chapter Eleven

  After Monique released us both, Hannah didn’t speak to me all afternoon, except to give me chores. Without really knowing what to do about my stinging bottom, I went to the huge walk-in freezer and perched gingerly on some large, unopened boxes of frozen food. My bottom felt better almost instantly and I was so glad to have a moment to cool down. I couldn’t remain there for long, however, because I was supposed to be taking Hannah some fish for this evening’s meal. Reluctantly, after about thirty seconds, I got up and took a box of salmon to her.

  “Just put it there,” she indicated with a knife then went back to chopping some vegetables.

  “Is there anything I can do?” I asked.

  “Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” she grumbled.

  I stared at her. “Why are you mad at me? I didn’t ask you to lie to Monique!” I pointed out.

  “No, you lied to me instead. I knew you had, and now I can’t even spank you for it, because your bottom’s got to feel as bad as mine does! What did you hope to achieve by tattling to Monique?”

  “I’m sorry! I don’t know. I was trying to help.” I tried to think about why I’d told Monique the truth.

  “If her compel didn’t work on me, I’d never tell her anything I didn’t need to,” Hannah snapped.

  I stared at her. So this was what it was all about; Hannah thought Monique’s power to compel people didn’t work on me.

  “But what do you mean? It does work on me! When I was in the corner, I wanted to turn around but no matter what I did, I couldn’t,” I tried to explain.

  “And when I was in the corner, when she compelled me to stay there, I couldn’t even think about turning around. That’s the difference,” Hannah said ruefully. “Why doesn’t it work properly on you?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. When I was… before you … um… before, I always wanted to do everything she told me to. Now, though? Not so much. I thought it was just a normal part of being a vampire.”

  Hannah didn’t say anything, and the only sound for several minutes was the rhythmic chop-chop-chop of the knife slicing through the carrots she was preparing. When she finally finished, I thought she would talk to me, but instead she reached for an onion and began peeling it.

  “Hannah?” I prompted. She turned around; the onion had made her eyes water.

  “Why are you special? Why does she want you so bad? Why did she tear you from me? I just wanted a little sister of my very own!” Hannah said, and I realized it wasn’t the onion; she was crying. I went to give her a hug, and she just stood there.

  “I’m sorry, Hannah, really.” I paused, then added, “But I can’t keep apologizing for something I didn’t do on purpose.” I let go of her and stepped back. She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded, then she took a deep breath and released it slowly. Even when she was crying and upset with me, she still had the face of an angel. I just wanted to kiss her beautiful, plump lips until her tears were a distant memory.

  “I know. And I’m sorry too. For a century and a half, I’ve been Monique’s only… only plaything, if that’s the right word. Lydia was just a revenant, which is basically a zombie vampire. It’s going to take some getting used to you being here. Having to keep a daytime schedule instead of being nocturnal isn’t helping; I can’t wait for these guests to all go away. But… well… I guess I need to learn to share.”

  “You don’t seem to have any problem when it’s just you and me,” I pointed out.

  “I know where I stand when we’re together. And I know I’m nothing to Monique. But when you and she are in the same room, I start to get confused. My thoughts tell me that my only desire is to submit to her, but my heart just wants to protect you and be a good big sister. Hand me that frying pan, would you?”

  “Even when Monique had
you over the table and was caning you, I still knew you were my mistress,” I said, giving her the skillet. “To me, it’s the most obvious and natural fact in the universe. I can’t not submit to you. You don’t have to compel me to adore you.”

  Hannah shook her head as she put some butter in the pan I’d given her.

  “What about Monique? Don’t you feel that way about her, too?” she asked.

  “A bit. I think she’s captivating. But she’s not you.” I knew I wasn’t explaining it well, but I felt like I didn’t have enough words and the ones I did have sounded hollow and stupid. Couldn’t Hannah feel that spark between us?

  I spent the rest of the day trying to think of a way to show Hannah how I felt about her.

  It was Monique who showed me how to get blood that evening. Hannah had seemed so reluctant, and I suspected that she was squeamish about it. I’d still been thinking about how to make amends with Hannah when Monique had entered my room.

  “Don’t bother to knock.” I was slightly irritable from the arrogance that she thought she could go where she pleased.

  “It’s my castle. Anyway, you’re simply dying to get some blood and it shows. Sanguine ones invariably become more irritable when they are hungry.” That was how, after dark, and in the dead of night, Monique and I made our way down the drive, crossed the rickety wooden bridge, and went into the spinney where I’d been chased by the First One. Monique stood perfectly still, and I copied her, although I was uncertain of what she was waiting for. After what seemed like forever, I heard a movement, then I saw a goat wandering through the trees. Before I could say anything to Monique, she had pounced, and she felled the animal quickly. It managed half a bleat before she stilled it with her compulsion, then she waved me to her side.

  “This is the best way. One goat will sustain two of us for a month. Sheep are good, too. I don’t usually hunt so close to home, but I thought this would be the easiest way for you to learn. Here.” She waved her hand and I moved toward it, then hesitated. “Oh, really, Sabine. You disappoint me. It was only going to become someone’s dinner anyway. What do you think farms are for?”