Indentured Freedom: Owned by the Vampire

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Indentured Freedom: Owned by the Vampire Page 5

by Candace Blevins


  He went back and forth, alternating the benefits — the things I’d learn, the powers I’d gain, the experiences and adventures I’d be privy to — with the brutal truth of what it would mean to be his slave.

  What I didn’t expect, was for all of my things to be in Abbot’s car when we got into it. Not only the clothes I’d brought with me, but everything Master had bought for me, as well.

  “You have two days to come back to me, my little wolf. I’m closing our connection and detaching the leash, so you won’t be able to telepath me and I won’t know where you are or what you’re thinking unless I’m near you. You’ll need to let Slick know if you’ll be going to work tomorrow night, or any night afterwards.”

  He handed me an envelope, it was heavy, and from the smell, was full of cash.

  “My phone number is written inside the envelope. Text me when you reach a decision. If you decide to oath to me, we’ll set up a time. If you don’t, we’ll discuss setting up a once or twice a week appointment — no hard feelings.”

  “You’re sending me away?” I asked, incredulous.

  “My rules,” said Abbott. “He’s had a week to make his case, and now you’ll need to make your decision on your own, and at least eighteen hours from now.” He looked at his watch and said, “You won’t contact him until after nine thirty tomorrow night, no matter your decision. The cut-off is three days from now, before sunrise. If you decide against it and then change your mind a week from now, you’ll need to go through me before I’ll validate the oath.”

  I turned to Master. “Did you make me forget anything?”

  He shook his head. “No. Some of the details of the first night are probably hazy, but only because you kept losing consciousness and not because I made you forget.”

  * * * *

  Master Abbott didn’t have much to say on the fifteen minute ride to my apartment, though he reminded me I was no longer under his demesne, and thus would be in serious trouble with the Concilio if I used any of my power, even if it was to save a life — my own or anyone else’s. Lone wolves aren’t allowed to use power. Only wolves oathed to an Alpha, or to a vampire, can do so. Gavin had stripped me of the ties to my old Alpha, and I was now officially a lone wolf.

  My things were in ten huge rolling suitcases, and we made a few trips getting everything into my apartment. He left with a reminder of my window of opportunity, and I was alone, and free, with no one in my head.

  My apartment was pathetic after spending time in a mansion. But it was mine. I could do what I wanted here. I could dress as I wished, and speak how and when I desired.

  Gavin — wow, I found I could think of him as Gavin now, instead of Master, and the realization was both thrilling and a little sad.

  Gavin had given me more than he’d promised. I not only had the thousands he’d agreed to, but a whole fancy wardrobe, lots of makeup and haircare products, and a new identity that I had a sickening feeling had cost some teenage runaway her life.

  It seemed disrespectful not to use it, and yet, it felt icky to turn into this person who’d possibly died so I could escape my past.

  Of course, it was possible she’d died of a drug overdose, and the creepy vampire had a deal with the street people to notify him when people checked out… but it seemed more likely Gavin had instructed him to find someone with the first name of a famous queen.

  Did I want to be Queenie, Bambi, or someone else?

  I fell asleep considering all the options, without a clue of what I was going to decide. If he’d asked me to oath to him on the plane, I’d have done so in a heartbeat.

  But now, on my own, in my apartment without his leash attached to the source of my thoughts, I wasn’t sure.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Queenie

  I set my alarm for ten the next morning, and texted Slick shortly after I awakened to ask if we could have lunch, my treat. He immediately called back with, “What’s up?”

  “I need a sounding board, and to be honest, I’d like to talk to Bash, too, but I wasn’t sure if he’d appreciate my asking him to lunch.”

  “Are you turning Gavin down?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He sighed. “You’re still ours, for now. Lunch is on us. I’ll meet you at the Rolling Thunder bar at noon, and I’ll check in with Bash and Duke to see if they want in on the discussion.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it, Bambi.”

  “Gavin renamed me Queenie.”

  “Which name are you going to use? Can’t really change your working name, now that you’ve started.”

  “I don’t know.”

  He sighed. “You have a way to get there? Or do you need a ride?”

  “I can call for a cab.”

  “No, I’ll have a prospect come get you. He’ll pick you up at quarter till. Be in the parking lot, waiting. He’ll tell you I sent him. He doesn’t give you my name, don’t get on the bike.”

  All of the Rolling Thunder guys had these crazy safety rules, but I’d learned to follow along and not argue.

  I looked through my outfits and decided to dress up a little — not so much I’d be out of place on a bike, or in the bar, but enough they’d see me as Queenie and not Bambi.

  I chose semi-dressy rayon black pants and an elegant silk tank-blouse in pale pink. I matched up some pale strappy sandals with a two inch heel, and with my hair flowing around me like silk and my makeup done for elegant day-wear, I wasn’t sure they’d recognize me… but of course they would, by scent if not by looks.

  The prospect walked me to the back of the bar and practically handed me to Bash before leaving, and I sat at the VIP table with Bash, Slick, and Duke.

  “Thanks for meeting me, but I really just wanted to bounce some ideas off Slick, see if he could help me come to a decision. This is big and…” I trailed off, not sure what else to say.

  “I’m the one who has to hand you over to the vampires if you decide to go to them,” Duke told me. “I’m here anyway, and have to eat lunch, may as well hear you out.”

  His casual attitude helped me relax, and I scanned the menu. I’d had so much steak, I wanted something different, and I immediately decided on barbecue.

  “Slick says Gavin named you Queenie. It fits, with the new look,” said Bash. He’d scared me from the very beginning, and yet he’d been up front and honest with me, and I trusted him.

  “He was very clear on all the pros and cons, so I know what I’ll be getting myself into. I grew up worse than a slave — I was a dog amongst wolves.” I shook my head. “But freedom didn’t give me instant happiness. Gavin won’t be fair, but he’ll balance the good with the bad, and there’s a lot I’d like to learn from him.”

  And then, just like that, I knew why I’d oath my freedom away if it meant I’d belong to Gavin. It wasn’t about what he could give me materially, but the fact he saw me for who I am. No one else had — not my mother, not Bobo, or even Slick or Bash. Only Gavin had looked inside me and seen who and what I could become, and then gone about helping me get there.

  Duke smiled. “You’ve made up your mind.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry I brought you all here, but it’s clear to me now. No one else has seen my true potential and nurtured it. Even the Alpha, Randall, after he poked around in my head, only offered me a position as a housecleaner, to get me away from…” I shook my head. “Gavin showed me my power and started teaching me how to use it, and the only way I can use that power is to oath to Gavin, or oath to Randall.”

  “Do you want me to set up a meet with my brother, so he can tell you your options if you oath to him?”

  I shook my head. “No. He didn’t see me. Gavin did.”

  “How long does he want your oath?”

  “Twenty years, with an agreement to let me go at his discretion after ten if I want to bind myself to someone romantically — though he was clear he wouldn’t release me to a human unless it was a special circumstance.”

  Duke shook his he
ad, “Ten and five. I won’t agree to twenty and ten. At the end of ten years, you’ll have a month on your own before deciding whether to oath for another term.”

  I smiled, happy these guys were still looking out for me. They’d told me I’d become part of the family, and then they’d shown me, more than once, how they took care of family. “Thanks, Duke. I don’t know how I got lucky enough to end up in your town, working for you, but I’m grateful for it.”

  Bash leaned forward. “Just remember who took you in when you get big and powerful, because I think that’s where Gavin’s going with this. I’m happy for you, and worried — but I can’t make the decision for you, and wouldn’t know what to tell you if I could.”

  The guys told me what they thought I might need to know about the local supernatural political scene as we ate. They wouldn’t let me pay for dinner, and they all gave me a hug goodbye.

  “I’ll see you during the oath,” Duke told me. “And I know Gavin will know everything we’ve told you, which is fine. Just remember, you can change your mind all the way up until you say the final line of the oath, and once you say it there’s no way out until your term is up. With the hold he’ll have on you, suicide won’t even be an option.”

  “The freedom I found wasn’t all it was cracked up to be,” I told him. “Being on the run, only a few ways to earn money, scrounging for the basic necessities… I know life with Gavin will be hard, but I’m used to being told what to do and having my decisions made for me. This way, I’ll have close to a million dollars in the bank at the end of ten years. Freedom will look completely different, then.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Queenie

  After a handful of texts, I was in the downstairs great room of the coterie house at midnight, and at one o’clock, so were Randall, Duke, Abbott, and a dozen other vampires.

  I knew Duke had negotiated my price earlier in the day, and had refused to negotiate if my term would be twenty years. The final number was ten and seven, meaning I was to be Gavin’s slave for at least seven years, possibly as long as ten.

  But this house seemed more like home than my apartment, and I missed having Master in my head.

  Before the oath, Abbott conducted a naming ceremony, where he listed my birth name, as well as every name I’d gone by since my escape. It felt as if he’d called a streak of lightning into the room as he lifted his arms, clenched his hands into fists, and said my new name — Victoria Renee Anderson, to be known as Queenie Anderson.

  My aura changed, shifted, and I felt the name impress onto my very being. It was no longer an alias. It was me.

  I’d memorized the statement to be given as my oath, and I stood nude in front of the assembled supernaturals, and closed my eyes and relaxed as Gavin smelled my neck, wrapped his arms around me, and bit.

  I screamed with the pain. He didn’t do anything to ease the way, and it hurt, but I couldn’t be under the influence of his venom when I gave myself to him.

  I opened my eyes but didn’t focus on anyone as I recited, “I, Victoria Renee Queenie Anderson, do hereby oath my body, mind, spirit, soul, willpower, and all worldly possessions to the vampire known in the present day as Gavin Wilson, second in power to The Abbott, for a maximum period of ten years, with the earlier agreed upon reasons for an early termination.”

  I felt his command to change, and my body once again shifted to wolf form without my having to do anything. When I was the wolf, with Master still drinking from us, I/we telepathed to Master.

  Yours. We’re yours. Everything. Yours.

  The vampire scratched his arm, held it to my mouth, and I lapped at the blood until he shifted me back to human as he kept drinking, and finally pulled his teeth loose and licked my wounds.

  He bit his forearm and held it to my mouth, and I drank his blood until he pulled his arm away. I’d had plenty of it before, and I was used to the rich, salty, savory taste. I enjoyed taking him into me in all ways.

  “What are you?” Master asked.

  “Slave. Property. I live for Master’s pleasure, his needs, his convenience.”

  Abbott stood, walked to us, and touched us as he said, “So be it.”

  I’d been bereft, without him in my head, and he was back. The node he’d wrapped his leash around now felt as if he was attached, not just looped around. This was super-glue and not a mere leash. No, it was more than super-glue — it was as if he’d woven his intentions into the node, not just around it. He was part of the fiber of the source of my thoughts, the wellspring of my being. My will.

  I leaned against him, happy to belong to him, relieved I no longer needed to make decisions.

  You’ll make the decisions I want you to make, Queenie. Slavery doesn’t mean you get to give up on life.

  I know, Master. I missed having you in my head.

  We have a room you haven’t seen, yet. Come with me, cunt.

  Aloud, he told the room, “Thank you all for coming and witnessing. Now it’s time to enjoy my slave a little before I pick up the mantle of my duties once again.”

  He led me a short ways down a hall and into a room that looked as if it were invented for torture.

  “Some of us call it the playroom, others the dungeon. I want you bent over the spanking bench in the back corner, the one with cutouts for your tits.”

  Today he strapped me down so I couldn’t move. Whether it was because he didn’t want to use the energy to hold me mentally, or he just wanted the mindfuck of me feeling the restraints, it worked, because I was terrified when he finished.

  He walked to my side, so I could turn my head and see him. “There were a number of ways I could’ve gone, tonight, to celebrate your new status as my slave. I could’ve left the door open and let any and all come in and fuck you, I could’ve taken a knife and skinned you before I let you change and heal, but you came to me of your own free will, knowing I could’ve done those things, so I don’t have anything to prove. I may, and probably will, do those things at some point in the future, but tonight I’m going to bite your nipples and clit, and inject venom to drive you crazy, but I won’t let you come until you give me what I want. I’ll fuck you and get off, and then you can beg me to work on your first major objective.”

  “Yes, Master. What’s my objective?”

  “You aren’t going to orgasm until you can take my fist in your asshole without it tearing. You’ll beg me to put it in farther, or tell me when you can’t take more. You’ll work your own fist in when you have down time. It might take you a week to work up to it, or it could take six months… but until you’re there, you won’t come.”

  I immediately needed to orgasm so bad it hurt, and I knew this was right. Master owned my body — both the pain and the pleasure.

  “Thank you, Master.”

  I squealed as he bent below the bench and bit just behind my nipple. Once again, he didn’t ease his entry with the numbing agent, but my nipple immediately felt swollen and hot… itchy. It craved attention, and he didn’t disappoint because a few seconds later I screamed as I felt what had to be the teeth of an alligator clamp digging into the tender tip.

  He repeated the process with my right nipple, and then I hopelessly tried to squeeze my legs together when he moved to my clit, but they were tied far apart and I couldn’t keep him from the tender bundle of nerves.

  He didn’t just bite it once, but slid his teeth into the skin and tissues all around it, and then, finally, he pulled the hood back and punctured my clit. My screams echoed back to me, pain at first, and then frustration as he pulled away.

  As bad as my nipples hurt, at least there was pressure on them. My clit had nothing, and yet it craved touch, friction — even if it meant pain.

  His cock slid into my cunt from behind me, and he groaned in bliss as he sank into me.

  He alternated fucking my cunt and asshole until he came in my ass, and I was still so frustrated, tears leaked from my eyes.

  I felt one lubed finger going into my ass and he said, “Beg me to tr
ain you, slave.”

  “Please, Master. Train my ass to take your fist.”

  If I could’ve moved, it would’ve been to take him deeper, and deeper, when he used one, two, and then three fingers.

  The fourth finger, however, hurt, but I didn’t tell him to stop. I could do this. I could take it. There’s no way I could last days, weeks, or — god forbid — months without an orgasm.

  However, apparently, my rectum split a little, and he made a tsking noise as he pulled his fingers out.

  “You let me split you. This means punishment, cunt. It won’t always be the same punishment, but tonight it means your clit gets it.”

  He untied me, and then bound me again on a large padded table in the center of the room. My ankles and wrists were connected to the edges of the table near my head, and loops of an elastic material wrapped around my knees to hold them out, as well.

  He used an alligator clip to pull my clit hood up and away, and then held a metal ruler over my clit with one hand, pulled the tip up with the other, and then let it go so it slapped down on my clit. Hard.

  I screamed and begged, but he did it again, and again, and again.

  When he grew bored with the ruler, he used his belt, and eventually he put something on my already raw and throbbing clit that felt like the fires of hell, and he informed me it was oil infused with hot peppers.

  When he finally untied me, he cradled me in his arms and carried me to his suite of rooms. He settled me on my bed, covered me, and told me, “You’ll find a book on your night table when you awaken. You’ll be quizzed on the first two chapters when I rise. If you do well, I’ll let you change and heal, I’ll put the venom into your nipples and clit again, and then take you out on a fun date while someone unpacks your bags and organizes your room. If you don’t know the material, you’ll be punished, you’ll get the venom in your nipples and clit again, and then you’ll unpack your bags while I go out.”

 

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