Ambrose a Vampire RP

Vinnie was woke by one of his parents serf, being shook lightly. The serf seemed to be slight fearful for doing so, but orders were orders. “Master BloodStone . . . Master BloodStone.” The vampire didn’t seem to wake; instead he turned on his side trying to ignore the poor panicked pet. “Master BloodStone please get up. Your parents are demanding you go find a Serf today or you go find yourself a new roof.”


The serf winced in fear of getting hit, as Vinnie suddenly grabbed for its arm pulling it towards him some to get a better look. Hazy green eyes took awhile to focus on which of the pets were sent to get him. It was his mothers, a male of handsome appearance, but then again with the strict ways of his father she needed more ways to relax in his eyes.


After watching the Serf tremble for awhile, Vinnie would lightly let go pushing it away. “Aye, aye.” He muttered annoyed that his dreams were disturbed. “I’m up, so off with you before father thinks you’re wasting time again and takes the whip to you.”


Once the serf was gone, Vinnie would merely sit up and glance to the ceiling of his room. Today was the day, eh? ‘Great, off to find a potential toy for father.’ He couldn’t help think before sliding out of bed and getting dressed. Much to his families disappointment as always he would merely pull on some commoner’s pants and a button up t-shirt, leaving his dark brown hair down and maybe even a bit messy. His mind roaming more to what his family considered to be worth of them than what type of serf he would be getting.


Leaving the house without breakfast, heading to the plantation pushed upon him mostly by his father to pick from. ‘A good Serf . . .’ finally the thoughts of what he might decide crossed his mind as he arrived, ignoring most the greeting and such the owner gave. Waving the vampire off to set up those he could decide on.


When the Serfs were lined up his eyes scanned them waving away a few here and there right off the bat. Red heads, some blondes, some of the more stunning looking ones, he didn’t want one that would catch his father’s attention too easy when it came to looks. He personally didn’t want his father to punish, or teach his serf like the man had taught many before.


The line slowly started to dwindle as Vinnie went through touching skin of some, to see if they had at least a bit of thickness too them. Checking the teeth, he wanted the serf to look decent at least, after all in ways he planned to use it as a front for him when it came to business at times. After limiting it to a good ten or so he would talk to the owner asking about personalities and such, having some of the others sent away till there were but three left.


He wanted one with a bit of wisdom but a bit more bravery, and from the start of it all, one of them manage to keep catching his eye. She was . . . average in many ways, but she had a beauty that seemed too shone through that average, and something of a spark. Well at least that's how he thought about her.


Moving to tap a finger on his lip he kept pacing in front of the three in deep thought. “Do any of you have anything to say for yourselves? Do any of you even want to go home with me?” What an odd question, he was actually asking the Serf their opinion on the matter. This of course gave the plantation a slight look of disgust. In Vinnie’s eyes though, if he was going to have a pet it might as well be one that might like being around him at times.
 
Rosa awoke early awaiting her next instruction. She had learned from an early age that her role was to be there, awake and ready for anything ordered of her. The sun had barely peaked over the walls of Tyradul making her small stall still dark. She was one of the lucky ones who had earned a window in their stall. A privilege that at any moment could be taken away, without reason just to show her once again whom was in charge.


They didn’t come for her for another hour but when they did she knew something was different. Today was a market day and that meant she had to become presentable. A lead was snapped to the bulky collar around her neck that jingled with tags. She never looked at her own having no desire to know how much she was “worth”. Of course that was only one tag and it was ever changing depending on her behavior and what she did to please the Handlers. Most of them liked her just because she was quiet, submissive and well behaved and she knew her price had skyrocketed. The looks of aghast when people saw her price was a bit pleasing, Rosa couldn’t lie about that.


Rosa was led into a room with a bunch of other woman and was instructed to strip. They all complied handing over their shifts. They didn’t wear dresses until market day; otherwise they wore shirts that used to be grain bags and itchy pantaloons. The clothing was taken away and each girl was handed a rag with brown soap on it. Everyone began to clean themselves cherishing a chance to get clean. Then each of them was rinsed with a bucket of scolding water that left their tender skin red. Rosa stared down feeling the water drip off of her auburn hair and down her back. She knew the leather collar would begin to itch because of the soapy water but there wasn’t anything she could do about that.


They were forced to stand their scraping excess water off their body and wringing out their hair for a good ten minutes and in that time not a word was spoken. Rosa felt her backs feeling the scars from when she had made mistakes, dropping a bowl of food, jerking during a feeding if the vamp was rough or even a misplaced look. The consequences were severe and harsh so nobody made silly stupid mistakes every beating was due to an accident.


They were each handed a dress of blue and brown cotton and so were even given a corset. Not because they were fat but because they were more expensive and should look thus. Rosa was one of those girls and was ushered into another room where other girls learning to work with hair and dress their future mistress were waiting. They practiced on those going to market and Rosa was surprised by their speed and lithe fingers. They dressed her quickly pulling the corset tighter than what she thought humanly possible and brushing her hair expert smooth strokes. They pulled it back with a red ribbon just getting it out of her face. Rosa knew this was breaking a rule but she felt pretty, almost beautiful but she hid it well refusing to look at herself in the mirror.


Rosa was next given a small piece of bread and a vampire came to give her venom for the day. In this place it was given everyday just to make sure they remained young. Rosa was technically 16 but looked liked a fifteen year old. Her next master could decide what age he wanted her to be, he could even kill her if he choose and find a new serf. This vampire walked in eyeing her hungrily, he ran a hand down her arm giving her chill bumps but she didn’t move. She knew no matter whatever he did she couldn’t fight, he settled for just touching her before sinking his teeth into the muscle right above her shoulder. The muscle was tense making it all the more painful. But Rosa simply bit her lip feeling the cold venom rushing into her body like ice. It sometimes burned. The vampire stepped back whispering something about it being a shame. He then snapped a leash to her collar and led her into the courtyard.


She was led about being poked, prodded, jabbed and tugged on. She maintained small submissive smile the whole while complying to every whim. Some touched the recent bite on her shoulder which was beginning to ice over leaving a white crescent scar. She heard her handler speak of all her virtues, her good behavior, her hidden strength behind her fragile look. One vampire caught her eye, a brown haired man in simple clothing. She kept forcing herself to look away knowing to stare was rude. She secretly hoped her picked her especially since the other man looking at her was old and was talking to her handler about opening a new plantation but needing better stock.


The brown haired man spoke, asking them a question. She looked up at home wondering if he really wanted an answer or if this was a test. The two other girls remained looking at their feet but something about the way he had asked made her think he really wanted to know. She knew that if it was a trick she would end up being beat but the older man would not want her because of her mistake. Taking a deep breath she said, “Our opinions do not matter, it is your choice however I would like to go complete the role I was born for,” choosing her words carefully.
 



Vinnie’s green eyes seemed to light up some when the one who had his attention this whole time actually had guts enough to answer. Moving closer to the one who spoke he studied her, and if she allowed it, his hands would roam as if to find the scars he could. She was had been punished in the past . . . most in this plantation seemed to have been, and severely. Would only explain why his father pushed that this was the place to find his Serf. His eyes went to the other two remaining, they were broken to the point of stupidity, and at least the one who spoke had wisdom in her words. Knowing to answer yet in a manner to not to get beaten for.





“Don’t you teach them anything?” He would call back to the owner of the plantation over his shoulder as he kept his eyes on the girl who spoke. For all any of them knew he could be about to demand a beating, or give one to her himself. “When a question is asked, one should always answer it. It’s rude to just ignore, when it may be your master speaking.” A smirk, perhaps trying to judge her reaction, was he toying with her now?





He would then hold out his hands before saying with a less demanding voice, one quite gentle in fact. “Let me see your hands.” He wanted to judge them, see how dainty, and how soft they were. If she placed them in his, he would gently rub them, and even lift on to his cheek a bit. After deciding at once this would easily be the one. “Have her well trained, I wish to see no more scars on her when I receive her.” He said turning his back at once from the woman he decided to buy. “She has to be well skilled, as my family requires a lot from our pets.” He would head closer to the owner to discuss more of the details. “I also want her to learn to play the violin, so those hands that have managed to be just right. They must never be damage, and not overly worked outside of her teachings till I receive her. Do I make myself clear?” He had the confidence of his father, although he dressed like that of the common folks. He seemed to make even some of the others vampires tremble with his strength at times.





After going on a bit longer with the man, ironing out the details, things he would expect her to do. Explaining how busy his family is and what was needed, probably over exaggerating a bit he would actually turn back to her once more. His eyes given a slight dazed glance as if trying to figure something else out or make sure he didn’t miss anything. “Do you have a name?” He would ask her . . . most Serfs were given one, or made up one of their own. At times a vampire would make them go by another if they wished or didn’t like the name. To him making up one would be more trouble than it was worth, so if she had one he would prefer she be the first to speak it. In fact when the owner came up about to give it he would raise a hand to silence the man, waiting for her reply.


 
Rosa held her breath waiting to see if her choice was the right one. He stepped closer to her inspecting her for further marks and she could help but shiver at his touch. She kept waiting for him to yell for her to beaten but it never came. Instead he seemed pleased with her, maybe her bout of courage had earned her a ticket out of this place.


As he spoke she just nodded avoiding eye contact but not dropping her head. He was taller than her by at least a hand and her forehead was just about level with his chin. Rosa eventually snuck a peek at his eyes, they were a shocking emerald green, at first piercing and unsettle but something else resided deeper within them.


When he asked she lifted her hands for inspection hesitantly. They were not calloused but they were quick and lithe, ready for action. She had heard her handler compare her to an Arabian horse sent over from the desert. A rare beauty but with real usefulness, she could endure long hours of work and still be fresh the next day for more. Rosa wasn’t sure how he knew all of this about her but she still liked it.


Rosa stood silently listening intently as he dictated what the next year of her life was to be like. It sounded as if she would be learning quite a bit and she may not have to fear the whip for much longer. However she knew deals could be called off if he didn’t find her satisfactory but that was a lengthy process involving mages and ceremonies. Her new master’s voice was booming, commanding over the Plantation owner while describing his demands. He wanted her to learn to play something called a violin, she hadn’t a clue what playing meant or what a violin might be but it did not really matter. As she listened to him speak Rosa began to wonder what her life would be like, would he be command, demanding or harsh with her. He had ordered for no more beatings to ensue but was that just because he wanted to keep her in condition until he next saw her?


Then he approached her again and asked her of a name. Her eyes flicking to the Plantation Owner who was about to speak but he never did because the man stopped him still watching her. Waiting for her to answer, “I have been called Rosa,” she said knowing full and well that could be changing very soon.
 






Vinnie was taken in the tone of the girl’s voice, perhaps trying to read into her more than looks and what the person selling was saying. He actually gave a laugh and a smile at the name. “Well we don’t have a pet called that yet, it’ll do. “ He would be speaking to her now, probably a rare site, most bought the goods and went. “I hope you’re a quick study . . . I need someone smart, on their toes, and willing to step up when need be.” A smirk crossed his face at that and he would give a cute shrug, leaning in to whisper in her ear as if him being lazy was a big secret. “That way I don’t have to as much.”


He would step back again moving away from her. “And do your best on the violin . . . music sooths the savage beast, and there is a fierce one that heads our house.”


“Mr. BloodStone!” The Owner would finally speak up, business sell or not, Vinnie’s father was a good man in many a vampire’s eyes.


Vinnie would just wave the owner off at that not really worried. “I know, he did much to set up such and such. Help shape what we are today, and all that nonsense.” He sighed shaken his head. Coming here was annoying as it was, to pick something you’re stuck taken care of. Tell them what you want it to do, and then have to wait another whole year. It was a waste of time in his eyes, besides; he wouldn’t be surprised if the vampires even forgot what their serfs were like before that year was up.


He glanced back to Rosa with a smirk and wave. “See you in a year; let’s hope you’re worth every penny. If not, well you’ll just be another one of the many useless dogs we keep around.” His words confused many at times. He treated the Serf as if she was someone higher than she was, but still insulted and belittled. At most though, after awhile, most vampires just took it as Vinnie’s way to rebel against his father a bit more. All that was left now of course was the paperwork, and payment, all annoying and a waste of time in his eyes, but he did it never the less and headed home.


 
Iliana opened her eyes. The room was dark and cold, and there was no light shining through the corners of the curtains at her window. She heard a knock at her door, and one of her parents' Serfs walked in shyly. She was carrying what Iliana assumed was breakfast, sitting on a silver platter with a lid, next to a glass of some sort of drink. The Serf eyed her timidly before telling her 'Good Morning' and setting the dish on the bedside table. The Serf bowed and Iliana dismissed her with a silent wave of her hand. She inspected the food. Sure, Vampires could live off of blood alone, and some of them couldn't even stomach pet food - the breads and such that were fed to the Serfs along with juices - but Iliana was particularly fond of 'muffins', as the Serfs called them. Iliana herself never prepared the food for the pets, but she liked to occasionally taste it herself. It was definitely strange.


Iliana finished eating and began dressing, calling in the same girl from earlier to assist her with lacing her corset. That was one thing her own Serf would have to be taught; Iliana had never learned to lace her own corsets or style her own hair due to being so sheltered by her doting parents. They'd told her to get whichever Serf she preferred, no matter the gender or price. She hadn't really wanted to do this, but since she was becoming of age soon she would no longer be able to feed from her parents Serfs. She wouldn't gain anything from it. Once her hair was styled to perfection, she dismissed the Serf and went down to the first floor to meet her parents, who had prepared a carriage with tinted windows to transport her to the Plantation where she would pick out a new pet of her own.


Iliana climbed into the carriage, sitting down in the comfortable cushioned seats and waiting to be alerted of their arrival. She leaned her head on her hand, already bored of this ordeal. Iliana had never really 'grown up'. Sometimes she acted like she was much younger than she was. She could be immature, stubborn, and childish, but in the end she was still incredibly intelligent beyond her years and could hold interesting conversations with Vampires hundreds of years older than she was. She twisted a piece of her ash blonde hair around her pale, delicate fingers as her crimson eyes strained to see through the black tint on the windows. It looked like they should be there soon, this area seemed much less industrialized than her hometown.


The carriage finally came to a halt and the door opened. The Serf who had been driving announced that they had arrived at their destination and assisted Iliana with getting out of the vehicle. She looked around, and could barely see past the horses leading her carriage that there was a barn-like building in the distance. "Excuse me miss." The Serf said quietly with a bow. "The master of this plantation has gathered the Serfs over here." He led her to where the Master was, who bowed politely when he saw her approaching. Her reputation preceded her, everyone seemed terrified that she was there. Especially the Serfs from which she would choose her own.


It wasn't that she was a bad person, honestly. On the inside, once you got past all the anger and stubbornness, Iliana could be quite kind. Not once had she ever physically hurt one of her parents pets when they disobeyed or did something wrong, and she planned to treat her own Serf with the same kindness, so long as it seemed worthy of it. There was only so much disobedience that could be tolerated.


Iliana looked along the line of males and females, who were all lined up and waiting eagerly to see who would be picked. They seemed terrified but curious and hopeful all at the same time. A few Serfs caught her attention, one male and two females, and she dismissed the rest. She looked between the females, having them both walk around to see if there were any handicaps, then sent one of them away. She'd narrowed it down to one male and one female. Having a female could be comforting, considering the females might be considerably better at household chores and would be slightly easier to relate to - they would have an easier time understanding how a corset works, for instance - but a male could provide protection if she was ever in danger on top of doing everything else. She sighed; this was quite the dilemma.


"What are your names?" she asked them both. The female bowed and answered first, and then Iliana turned to the male, awaiting his answer. Of course, she had the option to pick a new name, should she not enjoy the sound of theirs, but she would at least give them the opportunity to present themselves with whatever name they liked to be called.


 
Rosa blushed as he laughed at her name wondering what he meant by it. The way he called his serfs pets seemed tender but maintained his stance as Master. She just nodded now looking at the ground having nowhere else to look but his eyes or the ground. But a smile crept across her lips and she longed to reply wittily but knew it would only bring her more trouble.


When he leaned forward whispering of his laziness she tensed wondering what he would do next but he merely stepped back making a comment on what she assumed was his father. The sharp reply from the Plantation owner brought her back to attention and made her wonder what he meant. Hadn’t humans always been the serf to the vampire? We were born to serve and if we behaved life was good to us, without a vampire we would die before we reached 60.


Her master bid her farewell with a remark that stung like a whip. To be useless was an insult to her very core and almost made her angry. Rosa had to prove him wrong, destroy any lingering thoughts worthlessness.


A Year Later


It was a year later and the day of Rosa’s pick up. She was once again in the blue and brown dress her hair was pulled back in the same fashion but now she knew how to dress and style herself for a day of work. The only change was that she now wore white gloves to protect her hands; they had stressed this to her time and time again in all of her lessons.


Although she had not endured a whipping that year, beating was still a form of punishment but they were careful. If she wasn’t performing as they liked she was hit but only so that she bruised, nothing was permanent but it got the point across. They had been harder on her this year pushing her to learn all of the skills until she was near perfect. However it only showed in her small twitches she had picked up, fiddling with her skirt, flinching at speedy movements. But she remembered the hope she had felt the day she was picked by her master. It kept her going.


She was well versed in all of her masters needs including sewing, dressing, cleaning, cooking, calligraphy and her favorite of all playing the violin. The smooth wooden frame against her skin, the thin wire cords burning her skin and resonating through her body, how she loved to play and hear the beautiful cords. It was enough to make her feel forever endowed to her Master for giving her such an opportunity.


Now she was waiting for him to come for her, waiting to swept into her new life.


Bret awoke to the sound of a vampire pounding against his stall. The night before he had pushed his cot against the door just for the hell of it. Sleeping on the floor and the beating he was sure to receive would be totally worth seeing their exasperated faces when they finally managed to break in. The slur of curses coming through the wood made him laugh and roll his grey eyes while he ran his hand through his blonder locks.


Finally they managed to barge the door open their normally composed face spluttering and red. The man was gasping as he hooked the leather lead to his collar and led him into the foyer. Bret watched all of the other people being led into the dining hall. He had a feeling that compared to some other humans they had it good but that didn’t make living in captivity any better. He knew there had to be something better than what they had.


Surprisingly his handler didn’t lift a hand, “You afraid to touch me fang?” Bret sneered jerking the leash with his hand. The vamp just muttered something about him not being worth his time and stupid sales day. Bret waited as he was strapped into his seat and given his daily dose of venom and porridge. The pushed the mush around in his bowl before finally slurping the brown goo down.


Next a handler came and ushered him along with around thirty people into the changing rooms they were given clean clothing so as to look presentable. They were already kept clean with weekly baths so further cleaning was unnecessary. He was given a pair of fresh grey breeches and a clean white shirt, over that a brown vest fit snuggly. “I could pass for a noble Vamp,” Bret said goading on the handlers in the room. They all let out a hiss and at this point he was begging them to hit him. But none raised a hand against him. The beauty of sales day was they couldn’t touch you no matter your choice. Of course he would pay for it tomorrow.


They were led into the center courtyard where a girl and her parents stood. Her ash blonde hair was styled elegantly piled upon her head. She quickly narrowed the field than asked the names of the two humans left. “My name is Bret not that you would have a care of it,” he said his eyes flitting up and down.
 
Iliana gave a cute smirk that she always had on her face when she was thinking of something mischievous. She smiled and looked back at her parents, whom she had barely acknowledged on the ride over. "I definitely pick this one." she said, motioning towards the male who had called himself Bret. She turned back and spoke directly to him again. "And obviously I do care, since I picked you from the bunch out here." She crossed her arms. She wasn't going to change the name. Luckily his chosen name hadn't been something terribly atrocious like she'd been expecting. Her parents began to make arrangements with the master of the plantation.


Iliana didn't understand her reasoning on choosing this particular Serf. Maybe it was because he seemed rebellious, and it appealed to the devious, childish part of her. Or maybe she just wanted a challenge. Either way, she knew her parents would be unhappy that she chose such an outspoken pet, but after all it was her decision and they had no say in the matter.


Iliana examined Bret more closely, making a terrible attempt to do so discreetly. For some reason, she'd become somewhat anxious. What if this turned out to be a bad decision and she couldn't get him to follow orders as he was supposed to do? No, she thought. He would listen. He had to, right? Her parents caught her attention and she wandered over to where they stood, brushing a stray bit of hair from her face to speak with her parents and the plantation owner about the Serf they had purchased. They went over the basics, and asked if he should be taught to play instruments, cook, or anything else. Finally, they asked that the Serf be able to cook, clean, help Iliana when she needed it - meaning with dressing, hair and otherwise preparing for going out - and basic fighting skills that could be used to protect her if the need arose, but not so much skill that he would overpower her or be able to harm her.


Finally, the family climbed back into the carriage. Iliana squinted out the window, trying to catch one last glimpse of the boy that would be coming home with them in a year's time, but could only see the grimy tinted black of the glass separating her from the plantation.


 



Vinnie was late. Not just an hour or two late, but to the point it seemed like he might not even be coming. The only ones who knew this was not true of course would be those who kept her for him, but why would they care enough to inform a mere Serf. When he did come it was by a Carriage, and he would seem displeased as he stepped out. The carriage leaving him once he did so, he merely muttered his annoyances under his breath.





Besides that fact, Vinnie had an almost princely look about him. He was in a black tux, with a dark red, yet shinny vest piece. The tux was centered by a tie, and the tux’s jacket had two tails down the back, and his hair was pulled neatly back as well. The amusing part to most was, he seemed to hate every bit of it. Once the carriage was far out of site, Vinnie would start to fiddle and undo the tie right away. “Whoever invented these things should be shot.” He would finally manage to fully undo it and let it hang loosely around his neck. “They’re like nooses that look good.”





After at least getting that much more comfortable he would glance up and around for his pet. His eyes paused at the site of her, almost seeming to hesitate, as if unsure. He knew he went out of his way to pick up a more average looking one, but this one seemed to stand out. Placing a hand to scratch his cheek slightly in thought he would merely shrug it off. Going over he held out his hands like he did a year ago when he asked to see her hands for the first time.





IF she gave him her hands, he would merely remove the gloves and check over her hands once more carefully as if to make sure. Once more if she allowed he would check her for scars and such through her clothes. “Do you know how to play?” Was all he asked after he was satisfied, and figuring maybe it was just the difference of the background that made her stand out less back then.





 
Ryoma awoke to the smell of Poached Salmon, mint salad, with a side of scones, toast, and Ceylon tea. A breakfast fit for a prince no less. His parents' serfs were scrambling around endlessly tending to his parents' needs. Today was his one hundreth birthday and he had heard that his parents had decided to get him a serf. Of course he had wanted one and he was indeed excited, however, it bothered him that he the serfs started out so young. However, he would only use it for feeding nonethe less and that was about all a fourteen was good for at that age. He was considering training his serf himself, but he decided that it wasn't necessary. The other serfs would do that for him. This was the reason that Ryoma loved being rich. He got everything he asked for when he asked for it and that was certain.


There was a knock on his door.


"りょまさま、おきますか？(Master Ryoma, are you awake?)" a serf asked.


"うん！おきます！(yes, I am up)" Ryoma replied.


He yawned, ready to start his day. He was wondering if he'd manage to pick out a good serf. Ryoma was a person with very little demands and he often did things on his own much to his parents' dismay. His parents said that the serfs should do things for him, but he didn't want to be lazy. He often found himself exercising his powers and seducing other vampire women with looks. He took pleasure in that. His red eyes gazed upon the door as he headed out of the door without his t-shirt as he often did. Ryoma swore that he felt free that way. He enjoyed the breeze against his bare skin and most of the time he was hot from all the moving around that he did.


Ryoma walked down the stairs and sat down at the mahogony table a white lace table cloth laid neatly across the top of it. His poached salmon was perfectly prepared to his liking and he sat down readying to eat and then after that he would be off to pick out his serf with his parents. He only hoped that his serf would know more than one language... Or else that serf would be extremely lost when it came to taking orders and catching on to the way things worked here. He smiled to himself, he was doubtful and assumed that he would have to give the serf lesson seeing as his parents' serfs wouldn't be able to do that.


Sakura Mogami


She awoke in her cell alone as usual. Sakura had unnaturally red eyes that flickered in the darkness. She was fifteen and had not been picked last year due to her sickness. Now that she was feeling better, she would be able to be picked. Sakura's appearance was not a hurter to the eyes and in some ways could be considered pretty even if she was dressed in nothing but rags. She hoped that the family that picked her would be kind and possibly be okay with her current skills. Sakura was smart and she had taught herself a handful of skills. She could cook, clean, and sew amongst other things, but those would be kept secret or else her price would go up more than she wanted to. She acted dumb in front of the people that evaluated her so the family that picked her would end up spending less money for her.


Sakura was taken from her cell and cleaned up. It was the same routine she had seen before of the serfs who had turned fifteen here. They washed her and it was not in the least bit gentle. If anything it was rough and it hurt her just a little bit, but she dared not complain in fear that they should stop. They called her a filthy girl and said it was a shame that I had not yet been picked. The people that washed her knew that she held many skills, but they never said anything. That's what she was grateful for. The people had finished cleaning her and she was sent away, ready to be observed by yet another vampire family... ready to be picked...
 



Whisper had slept curled up in the corner of her normally small dark pit of a room. She never understood how most could manage to get up on their own, and today like every other day she was jerked awake as one of the workers grabbed her arm trying to yank her to her feet. Most of them had given up even trying to talk to her, seeing as she act like she didn’t understand most of what was said. She was rushed about doing her normal daily ritual of feeding and such.





Pushed into the room afterwards, with a lot of other females she was pried and poked. Her skin rubbed raw from where they scrubbed her clean, and the roots of her hair still felt the pull of the roughness they used when they washed and comb her hair, then pulled back with a blue ribbon. Dressed in a simple white cotton sleeveless dress, that had the same color blue ribbons to hold it tight. They all were warned of the punishment of getting it dirty. A task deemed almost impossible with the way most the plantation was kept.





Then she was ushered with the rest into what was probably the neatest well made room she had ever seen. The chairs and sofas seemed to be of red velvet with gold lining, and there were these beautiful paintings all around. Her blue eyes scanned the room in amazement only for her to wince as one of the workers slapped her for doing such and pushed her to sit on one of the red velvet furnishings. It was a place made merely to make the stock look good. Make the buyers feel like these serfs were a cut above the rest by being taken better care of. In truth, they were treated and raised like any other plantation raised their serfs.





Her cheek stung, and she wish she could rub it, but she knew better, not wanting another slap she merely placed her hands in her lap and keep her eyes on the floor, lowering her head. This plantation prided itself on not scaring its products, and doing its best to keep them pristine. That didn’t mean the serfs of it didn’t know pain, in fact far from it . . . some of the vampires seemed to delight in thinking up harsher and more creative punishments at times.





Whisper was lucky she was pretty, if she wasn’t she would have been killed off a long time ago. Most the vampires figured she would end up as breeding stock due to her nature in the end. They all thought she was stupid and useless, slow to learn. In truth though Whisper was probably a cut above the rest, and the gleam in her eyes at times spoke of this. Her quiet ways, her acting like she didn’t understand got her beat and worse at times, but it also saved her from being expected to know such later on. It was hard to punish something for just being slow . . .





The ribbon in her hair though had to go, it made her feel too forward in away, less hidden like she wished. It was because of that she would wait for the perfect chance to remove it. Probably a bit after the Vampires looking to buy started to come in. After all, to beat her or punish her then would be a sign of how even more cheaply they should sell her. A person in business always tried to get the most of a sell, even if it was a worthless thing they were selling. She allowed her blonde hair to fall about her face, covering her beautiful eyes, as she pretended the best she could that the world she was in now wasn’t there. That she was someone else, somewhere else, anywhere nicer, maybe at a rumored tea party, or one of those women in a nice dress which she was trained to tie up.





 
The wait was agonizing making Rosa feel unwanted and forgotten. The questions and doubts began to whirl through her head until she forced herself to take a deep breath and relax. But the most threatening of them all remained at the forefront of her mind. Had her master forgotten about her and the money he had spent the year before?


Her handler had long ago left in her the sweltering heat slipping her lead into one of them many hooks and locks that lined the stone wall. It prevented her from sitting forcing her to stand up the whole time. She had once started to lean against the stone work but it was too hot and a vampire passing by had snapped at her about mussing the dress she was lucky to have. Rosa rested a hand on the leather lead feeling the demeaning leather with distaste. She had never once tried to escape and yet she was still forced to wear it.


Finally after an hour had passed they moved her back into her stall which had been stripped of its cot, leaving only the straw floor and a barred window to look out. Rosa began to fumble with the harsh leather collar round her neck but it was now oiled and cleaned to shine yet it was just as heavy. She had once heard of irremovable bracelets that some serfs wore once they were sent to their new job. They were either welded closed or held together with a small lock but upon them their masters name and address was etched.


A few hours after the noon time meal, which she wasn’t fed since she was not technically a human owned by the plantation, Rosa saw a carriage pull up. Horses were one of the few pleasures Rosa had in life, she loved to watch them from her window their gleaming coats and sharp hooves. She watched as a man stepped out wearing fine clothing but seemed to be disturbed by it. Rosa tried to get a closer look from her window and determined that most of it had been tightened too much or that it wasn’t the tailor’s best work. When she finally reached his face the girl realized it was her master. She stepped back from the window straightening her blue and brown dress which may or may not remain her uniform. Then she turned looking to the door.


She peaked out the window and saw the plantation owner usher him into the facility and to her stall. When he entered the stall Rosa looked at him trying to remember if he had changed, she wasn’t sure but he seemed different. As he took her hands removing the white gloves, which she had come so used to in the past year, she held her breath. Would he be satisfied with what he saw? As he inspected her for scars she knew no new ones would be visible since they had done such a job hiding the bruises and not touching her for weeks before her sale. However she flinched a bit under his touch shuttering if his movements were too fast. But when he asked of the violin a smile broke out upon her face, “Yes I can play you almost any song you like from memory. I believe the owner will give you the list of what I know,” she said joy peaking in her eyes.


--- Merged Double Post ---


Marcus arose early in the morning ready to face the day. He had many things to do that day and picking the serfs couldn’t be his only focus. To begin with he wanted to take his stallion out for a nice gallop but he knew if he did so he would have to ride straight to his meeting for his serf. This meant he had to actually look tolerable because as the eldest son of a rising Nobleman it was important to be the best at everything and never to be seen or caught off guard.


He allowed the serfs in the house to help him dress although he felt it unnecessary it was a sign of wealth. Also the serfs needed to earn their life and food honestly so he let them do their duty. His father’s serf a petite brunette walked in offering herself for feeding. Soon he would no longer be able to gain nutrition from her but for now she was his meal ticket.


Once dressed and fed he made his way to the stable yard finding his black Friesian tacked and waiting. The magnificent beast snorted impatiently tossing its head as it waited for him to mount and ride. Once balanced in the saddle they took off. Of course he had to move at a slower pace in the city but once out of the high stone walls they galloped. This horse, Granada, was his pride and joy he had won many a jousting contest on this animal and a fair bit of races. As the sun rose higher he slowed his mount pointing him towards the plantation where he was set too meet.


Upon his arrival Marcus was greeted by the owner who ushered him into the huge stone building. Before him was a slew of serfs all varying in size look and gender. He quickly dismissed all of the males deciding that a female touch would be nice. He always felt odd feeding from his mother’s serf a boy who looked his age. He hadn’t a clue why though. He then made his way down the line finally pausing before a girl with blonde locks. Something about her seemed different as if she was hiding something, around her he had a feeling of secrecy and intelligence. “What be your name?” he commanded his crimson eyes searching her.


--- Merged Double Post ---


He smiled at her reply happy to see he wouldn’t have to serve someone with a dull tongue. Yes a challenge would be nice, whoever broke first lost and so far Bret hadn’t lost yet. Oh no he was stubborn, rude, conniving but you could never call him lazy. He was smart enough to pay attention listen learn and work so that once he was in the real world and not this prison he could get away.


Bret loved the look on the plantation owner’s face as the family “placed their order”. It was a mix of joy and shock, as if he wanted to know why in God’s name they had chosen such an ungrateful jerk. The vampire must have thought he would be stuck with him for the rest of his days as the owner but he lucked out because in a years time he was leaving.


Bret watched the girl and the family that had chosen her leave surprised that they had even bothered with him. Why did the girl want such a challenge she looked as if she could barely be of the right age? He had a year to ponder and answer this question before the games began.
 



Vinnie’s outfit oddly enough was perfectly tailored for him; he just hated to wear stuff like it. His eyes held a disappointed look when she flinched or shuttered. THAT would have to change, in his house he knew it would only cause her more punishment later on if done around the wrong person. His eyes scanned her outfit unsure, it was . . . cheap in his eyes . . . and just because he didn’t like to dress up didn’t mean his serf should look like trash. “Hmm . . .” was all he spoke of these thoughts though as he motioned her to follow him. Stopping at the front desk for any keys, or paperwork that was left to get or do.








“We have to get you a proper violin then before heading home.” He paused glancing at a clock that was behind the front desk on a wall. “Have you been tended to?” He meant meal of course, and perhaps venom of the day. Later he planned to write out a list of things she was to keep track of and remind him of. After finishing with the front desk he would head outside just expecting her to follow.





He would sigh glancing around once outside annoyed. “Such a long day, and most of it wasted.” He frowned towards her as if she might be more trouble than she was worth. “Now I have to go get the things you need . . . at least the basics. I suppose we can push off a few of the other items later.” HE wouldn’t leash her; he would just assume she would follow willingly. Then again in his eyes if she ran or did anything foolish she would easily be hunted down or others would step in to help.





“Rose, come along, we have quite a bit of shopping to get done.” He didn’t mean to mess up her name, it had been a year after all. Or perhaps he did do it on purpose and was just testing to see if she had enough guts to correct him. Either way it didn’t matter to him, he gave her the semi freedom to walk with him in whatever manner she wished. First stop of course being a dress shop, his plans being to use her in his childish rebels against his parents.





Outside of what looked like a fancy boutique Vinnie would get a grin that would spread. He was up to no good in away. Gently taken her hand if she allowed him too he would lead her inside. The store was of top fashion, one only the higher vampires could afford from time to time. “Blue seems to suit you well, but green seems nice also.” These dresses would never be itchy that was for sure. Finding a seat he would just sit back in it and look at her as if waiting. After awhile if she didn’t do a thing he would simple say “well? Aren’t you going to pick a few out? We don’t have all day . . . do we?” His parents were going to have a fit once he got done setting up his Serf a bit, he couldn’t wait.


 
- One Year Later -


Iliana woke of her own accord for once, instead of a Serf waking her. She sat up and stretched, her too-large nightclothes engulfing her small frame. It was her hundredth birthday today, she realized. Maybe that's why she had been allowed to sleep in. A Serf who had apparently been waiting right outside to hear her stirring knocked and entered the room. It was the same girl that, a year ago today, had helped her get ready for the trip to the Plantation.


~That's what we're doing today...~ she thought. She knew she had something important to do, but had almost forgotten it completely. The small Serf offered blood, followed by some fruits that she knew were Iliana's favorites. "Your mother and father have requested you to meet them in the East Wing once you've become decent, miss." the girl said. Iliana rarely spoke to the Serfs, never quite knowing what to say to them. She simply nodded and looked at the dresses that she had to choose from. She sighed in disgust at the long, heavy gowns. The nights were very warm this time of year, and she hated being wrestled into such gaudy attire. She quickly dug through a wardrobe until finding something that was, in her opinion, more tasteful. She threw on the petticoat and knee-length dress, allowing the Serf to lace her brown corset. Her parents and the rest of society would greatly disapprove this outfit, which made Iliana love it even more. It was much too short to be considered 'ladylike'. She was showing off the tall brown lace-up boots she wore underneath, which would be frowned upon. It was her coming-of-age birthday. The last one as a 'child'. She was willing to be a little more risky and outgoing for such an occasion.


She wandered down to the East Wing of the castle. She was greeted by an older Serf, probably in his fifties, who opened the door to the room her parents were waiting in. Her mother sighed in disgust at her choice of clothing and her father rolled her eyes. Her mother spoke first. "Iliana, dear, are you really wearing that?" she asked. Iliana grumbled a bit as her mother called her by her first name. She much preferred Mia, her middle name, but no one would call her by that. "Yes, mother." she said proudly. "The ones that were laid out were absolutely ghastly." she smoothed out the smooth chiffon of her white dress, careful not to tug on the delicate brown trim.


Her parents regarded her footwear just as unhappily, but left it alone so as not to cause an ordeal. Iliana was ushered out into the courtyard once again to get in the carriage. She sat across from her parents, quiet the entire ride. She wondered if the boy from before was still the same? Hopefully he hadn't been broken too much, otherwise this would have been pointless, and even worse, it would be no fun at all.


Finally they arrived at the Plantation and Iliana carefully stepped from the carriage, her parents following right behind her as they approached the Plantation owner who stood alone. Iliana looked around but didn't see her Serf, but the owner reassured her that he would be out momentarily. Iliana kicked a few rocks around, waiting impatiently. The Master watched her curiously, probably wondering how she was possibly old enough to have a pet of her own. It was true. Even though Iliana was now 100 years of age, she could pass for a Serf of 14, maybe 15 at most. Her hair was not styled as it was last time, instead falling it's full length to her lower back in long curls. Finally she heard a bit of commotion that could only be Bret coming out to meet them.
 
Rosa followed obediently behind him as she had been instructed on the plantation. She had always been instructed to stay a step to their right and a step behind them so that you were visible but not invasive. She smiled at the mention of a violin wondering what it may look like. He had specially requested that she learn and paid extra for it so the serf had a feeling that he cared deeply about this talent. “I have not had a noon time meal or my venom,” she replied crisply and truthfully. Her voice was soft but still managed to carry across the room. She had learned quickly that mumbling was just an irritant instead of viewed as submissive.


The horses pulling the carriage were beautiful, powerful even but in some ways frightening. She became concerned as he frowned commenting about wasting of time, “I am content with what I have, I can wash my dress every evening and wear it again the next day,” Rosa said rubbing her hand against the rich fabric of the carriage seat surreptitiously. Once they had exited the carriage and he walked speedily through the streets, her Master mussed up her name Rosa’s step stuttered as she wondered if she should correct him. She pondered the question for a moment wondering if it was on purpose or simply a mistake. “I was originally called Rosa but if you would rather it be Rose I understand,” she finally concluded.


The boutique they entered was beautiful, all of the fabrics were rick and soft and the dress designs were like nothing she had ever seen before. Rosa stood quietly beside him waiting for his next order, when it finally came she was surprised. “Um well sir, which ever gown you believe will suit me shall be the one I pick,” Rosa said picking her words carefully.





Bret awoke at the entrance of his handler. The man snapped the leash round his neck and escorted him into the dining hall. As the Vampire began to complain muttering about how early he had to wake for the SOB he forced himself to ignore it. BUt that was a mistake because in the midst of his muttering he asked him a question. COnsidering Bret had not heard it he didn't answer which earned him a punch in the jaw, instead of just taking it he hit him back. Before anything else could ensue another handler barked an order at them both threatening to whip them both. They both listened but the tension was pliable. He was the only one awake as usual for his days began long before others. He started with his daily lesson in defense which he had mastered and at this point they were trying to beat out of him. Every morning he became the punching bag enduring fight after fight until he felt too tired to move. It had taught him the skills to protect his mistress but also made him stronger. The goal now was to break his pride...They hadn't been doing so well.


After an hour of training in which he won most and lost only a few a bruise shadowed his eye and his gut was blackened. Next was the cleaning, by that time everyone had eaten and it was his job to wash the dishes making and any other tasks they deemed necessary. He didn't mind it, he found the cook tolerable enough for Vampire but it was the Mistress of cleaning he watched out for. She always hovered about making sure he dusted the office properly and folded the linens the way she approved.


However today his cleaning was cut short by the need to clean him up. They first scoured him clean with hot water and a strong soap. Next he was given a set of linen grey pants, the black boots, a crisp white ironed shirt and a vest. All of these things he had been forced to clean and shine the day before along with any other uniforms of the people leaving today. He dressed quickly brushing his long blonde locks flat against his head than shaking them out once in the sun.


His handler came for him with not only a leather leash but also a new collar. It had spikes on inside, they weren't sharp but any slight movement would cause pain. The handler snickered as he and his buddy bound the collar tightly round his neck. Bret let out a growl but that only resulted in the leash beginning tugged. He swung at the handler purposefully missing but continued walking. However every time the handler moved the leash Bret retaliated, at this point he didn't even care if his new masters saw him.


 
Iliana was admiring the stars when Bret was brought out. He'd been cleaned up a good bit but had a few bruises, an especially large one on his face. She gave the Master of the Plantation a small glare which went unnoticed. They were not supposed to abuse the Serfs on buying day, it could go badly for the seller if her parents decided they didn't want to pay as much for one that was obviously damaged and could now have other issues. They quickly examined Bret to make sure that none of the marks were serious injury, then paid the Plantation owner.


Iliana sighed, walking over to Bret. She wasn't normally nice, but she could see that he'd been through a decent amount of abuse, especially lately. She removed his spike collar, mumbling something about how it was unnecessary for him to be in something that painful. Her parents gave her a disapproving look, but she shrugged it off. She was used to their unhappy gazes anyway, and they didn't bother her anymore. The owner and her parents tied together any loose ends in the paperwork then they were ushered into the carriage that would take them home. The carriage was small, so Bret was able to sit inside with them instead of riding on one of the outer seats. Iliana sat quietly for the most part. She never knew what to say. She'd hoped to talk with the Serf, maybe find out from him what all he had learned, but she didn't know how to go about doing so and she knew Serfs were all taught not to speak out of line.


 



Vinnie actually flashed Rosa a smile when she corrected her, although it was weak. “That’s what I want to hear.” He said firmly at her answer. “Not a if I rather though . . . just a correction.” His eyes scanned over her before wondering if this will work. “If you’re to be close to me like a right hand man, you must learn to correct me in a proper and indiscreet way. Of course you will have to figure out the proper things to correct me on as well.”





He enjoyed how she took in the store and actually seemed to relax a bit, only for her answer to make him frown, and actually twitch slightly. He was already starting to wonder if he picked the wrong Serf. HE wanted someone who could keep up with the rest so he didn’t have to as much. Someone he didn’t have to answer every question for, someone he knew was wise enough to keep safe around the family but to also not be so uptight around him.





Crossing his arms he looked away from her, almost looking like a spoiled child not getting his way as he tried to figure away to reprogram her in the manner in which he preferred. “Are you questioning my order?” He would finally say after awhile, still not facing her out of annoyance. “Do you think your worthy of putting me through the trouble of not only buying you a dress, but the fuss of finding one you may like, as well?” A grin crossed his face at that and he would glance to her once more a sparkle in his eyes. “Oh no, I won’t fall for that woman’s trick . . . I know better. Now go pick out at least two dresses, or go around in rags for all I care.” Perhaps if he treated her more . . . well like a vampire she would get a bit of the hint at times. Sure she had to know her place but her place could be kept easily without him feeling like he had to lug around a soul less being. He paused at that thought . . . Human’s did have souls right?





His eyes would watch her, of course willing to give slight opinions if she asked. Figuring if he didn’t like the dresses he could get her others after he learned her size and such and these would be just to annoy his parents.





 
Bret stopped as his new Mistress approached eyeing her with unease. He had a feeling she would be a worthy opponent but her youthful looks were deceiving. He allowed them to examine sneering at the plantation owner whenever their back was turned. Oh yes, he had planned all of this. He was determined to cause as much trouble as possible before he left and like making the horrid vampire sweat it out.


He was relieved to feel the spiked collar removed from his neck. He began to wonder whether or not he should make a run for it the moment they walked to the carriage but he ended up deciding against it. This girl, his mistress had peaked his interest and although curiosity sometimes killed the cat…well cats have nine lives and he could risk one or two. Anyway he wanted to live forever and the only way that was going to happen was by getting some venom every day or so.


He stepped into the carriage after his lady and was struck with a question after getting in. If in reality he was supposed to serve this girl he might want to at least figure out his boundaries. He figured the first step was seeing what vocal allowances he had. “Milady in the future am I to get into and out of the carriage before you so as to help you in and out?” Bret asked doing his best not to sound mocking. But he knew that if she was looking at his eyes she would see the sarcasm.
 
Iliana was shocked to hear the Serf speak up. Her father looked outraged but had no right to lay a hand on Bret, since he belonged to Iliana. She examined his expression once the question was asked, seeing a hint of sarcasm. He was already making this enjoyable. She loved to make her parents mad, and he was definitely helping that along. She smirked just the tiniest bit, her eyes darting momentarily to her flabbergasted parents who were quietly waiting to see if their daughter would correct her pet. Instead of giving them what she wanted, she replied as though it was a casual conversation. "I suppose so..." she said in her quiet voice. She never moved her eyes from his. "It would be a shame for me to fall, now, wouldn't it?" Her father rested his head on his hand, obviously displeased that his daughter was making conversation with a human.


She almost couldn't hold in her smile, but did her best to contain it so that her parents wouldn't see she was deliberately trying to anger them. "Tell me Bret, if you could do anything... Anything at all with no consequence... What would it be?" Her father had had it. "Iliana." he said in a gruff tone. "This is indecent conversation you're making." Iliana sighed. She looked back at Bret, as if expecting that he should still answer. Why should he fear her father? He couldn't touch him, at least in Iliana's presence where she could stop him. She rested her head on her hand, almost imitating her father's gesture, curiously eyeing Bret to see if he had the nerve to respond when even his Mistress was being corrected.
 
Rosa nodded listening to his request; she would have to think of a way to correct him discreetly. Small notes slipped discreetly to him while he spoke, she could carry about paper and charcoal considering ink and pen would be too obvious.


After her answer with which she had been quite satisfied Rosa was shocked to see her Master’s distaste. When he began to question the girl she looked down at her feet whispering ‘no’. But as the words sunk in she realized that her reaction to his lecture was exactly what he was frustrated with. Rosa’s constant submission and attempts to please him at every moment was getting on his nerves. By doing so she was taking away from his own time. Rosa looked up, facing him head in yet still lowering her chin so that she did not seem dominate. “I understand, I must be more independent and know your needs before you ask and not question your decisions. I am sorry,” she said never softening her voice. It was crisp tone ready to do better and move on.


“Give me a moment and I will come back with a dress for your approval,” she said spinning around. Rosa made her way through the store quickly picking dresses rich in greens and blues and who were beautiful but still functional. She would keep her current uniform for work four serious cleaning but in her time at the plantation she had learned to stay tidy while cleaning house or risk a beating or another more personal punishment. Within a minute she returned to her Master. “These are the two that I believe are the most functional and fit my complexion; do you disagree because there are other options?” Rosa asked holding each gown skillfully so they were presented without touching the ground. One dress was made of rich blues and greens and while the other was lighter and in softer tones.


Dress one:View attachment 3990


Dress two: View attachment 3991
 



Vinnie just held that smirk, until she actually seemed to click with it. His face filling with a slight surprise then an actual honest smile, perhaps pleased with himself that his words worked so well. “Now that’s the spark I saw when I first met you.” He would sit up in the chair some, leaning forward as if actually interested in her for once. “No need for apologizes, I know it’s how you were forced to learn.” He had other plans though, plans to . . . be ‘worthy’ of his family . . . but in a way that would also backhand his father.





“I think anything you pick out will work well.” He didn’t care about functionality, he really was looking for new ways to rebel yet not get kicked out of the family. He stood when she decided moving to try to gentle take the dresses from her so that he could pay for them. That’s when a bit of trouble began.





“I’m sorry sir, but we don’t sell . . . Clothes for Serfs here.” The sells woman would say with great disgust as if thinking of burning the outfits. To have a Serf seen in such would be an insult to the store in her eyes.





Vinnie seemed to get angry at first with that answer. One of his hands curled into a fist at his side and he clenched his teeth. Only to glance back at Rosa some and seemed to calm a bit, that smirk of no good once more returning to his face. “Oh . . . . OH” an idea crossing his mind and he turned back to the sells woman. “These aren’t for her . . . they’re a surprise for my mother, she’s just the same size . . . I can understand your misunderstanding and I’m quite insulted by it.”





At that the woman seemed ashamed and even worried. “Oh, I’m so sorry I didn’t know.” At once she would ring the dresses up, placing them neatly in a bag. “Please forgive me . . . I should have known that you were too high class for that.”





Vincent merely smiled at her before paying and taken the dresses outside, motioning Rosa to follow. He pointed to the carriage where he gently set the dresses inside. “Go, change into one of them now.” He had planned to parade his Serf past the shop once she changed and sit her at the nearest dinner nearby to feed here where all could see.


 
(I just saw all the typos in my previous post I'll proofread this time)


Rosa blushed when he commented on the spark in her eyes and was surprised to see his interest. As he went on to talk about her life and being forced to learn in such a manner she closed her eyes for a split second eradicating the past memories for just a moment. She wondered how much he actually knew of her past and they tactics used to keep them in line.


When a sales manager approached speaking of the stores policy Rosa looked down, shame passing across her face. She knew there must be some difference between vampires and humans however she wasn’t sure of exactly what it might be but she was sure it had to exist or else there would not be such a divide right? Rosa had asked this question once when she was very young but the repercussions had been horrid and she never spoke of it again.


She watched her Master for a reaction calculating how he would handle the situation. She knew that at moment all she wanted was to disappear to become invisible and make the problem go away but he seemed to laugh at such a small issue. The lie rolled so easily off his tongue, Rosa almost found herself believing it. The sales woman was obviously embarrassed. In fact Rosa was surprised that her Master was not given a discount for the trouble.


When they exited the store Rosa let out a breath of relief and a small smile played across her lips. “You handled that so easily,” Rosa said breathily but he didn’t seem to hear her. Than again it wasn’t his job to listen, right now she was his pawn in his little games and he wanted her too change. She nodded slipping into the carriage and shedding her uniform. She than quickly pulled the lighter of the two gowns of her head amazed by the softness of the fabric. Rosa’s corset had been laced extra tight this morning which not only cinched her waist and raised her bosom but helped allow the dress to lie flat against her skin. She than let her hair loose letting the soft curls fall around her face framing it. Once everything was folded and put away she exited the carriage. But before returning to her Master she ran her hand across one of the horse’s neck and a small bubble of laughter escaped her throat. Between the softness and beauty of the dress and the gleaming strength she felt after touching the animal it was no wonder laughter a sound she hadn’t elicited in years came to the forefront. After just a few moments Rosa returned to her Masters side, “Thank you,” she said softly.
 



Vinnie waited, leaning against a wall, seemingly relaxed as he watched the clouds go by, in no real hurry at the moment. He didn’t want to rush the girl and undo some of the progress he made after all. It was that laugh, that small giggle that caught his attention. He watched her curious with the horse . . . she seemed so different now . . . in fact . . . she could almost past as a vampire if it wasn’t for that collar. Another one of those no good grins filled his face, only for her to come over and give thanks. That blew him away more than anything, never before had he really heard a Serf say thanks honestly, most were forced from them or because they were trained.





Stepping back a bit, he slowly reached up to touch her now loose hair if she allowed. “You’re welcome.” His voice was gentle for once, no arrogance, and no playfulness. “You will learn with time what I’m up too, and hopefully by then you will be on my side.” He smiled before turning to lead her to a nice dinner and buy her a meal. “Course for all I know you could be my biggest betrayal.” A grin and he would shrug. “Order what you want, allow me to pay for it then be off though. I have a few more items to pick up and it’s getting late.” His eyes would trail down the street towards the last few stores he wanted to catch before they closed. “Meet me in the alley behind this place to receive your venom, and then we’ll be off to what some might call home.” His eyes studied her as if still unsure before standing back and waiting for her to decide on what food to get.





After awhile he would allow his eyes to roam again, perhaps taken in the reactions of others, disgust, confusion, maybe even an envy for a mix of reasons. “Take your time eating, I’m not sure how nice the Serf meals are at home, or if you will have to be fixing all your own.” His voice was low as if in fear of being over heard. “I still have a lot of ground rules to set, but I want to do so in a place less likely to be over heard.”


 
Abram jolted awake to the sound of a door creaking open. Without sitting up his eyes shifted to the door and he watched as one of his parent's serfs entered. It was the blonde ninny. Perfect. He made sure his voice was most unwelcoming when he spoke up "You. What in the hells has you entering my domain without my express permission? I have killed for less, and I'm quite sure Mother could care less if she needed to get another replacement."


He was delighted to find the girl startled, even more so as he saw the color fleeing her face as he spoke. "Sir-Master Abram" She stumbled on the best way to address him. Maybe the airhead had a brain after all. "Mistress- My Lady- your Mother was quite forceful that I be here to prepare you" she bowed. "Today is the day, you get to choose your very own serf" She remained ever stone like at the door, as if she could truly flee if Abram decided to take out his agitation on her.


"Don't be foolish. Come in and do as Mother wishes. We wouldn't want her desires to be unmet do we?" Abram sat up, the sheet falling the length of his torso to expose his nude form. He knew his words sounded menacing, and he meant them to be so. The poor serf was torn between blushing at the exposure and reddening at the thought of punishments to come from what he was planning.





Her face went red and her voice was shaken as she spoke. "Yes master Abram. If you chose to follow me, your bath is already drawn." She led him to the bath, making sure to look anywhere but at him whilst doing her best to act unaffected by him and his nature.


Abram allowed the girl to bathe him, and didn't even mess with her while doing so. He leaned back in the overheated bath as she began to brush through his ash-blonde locks. He was ever so kind to allow the girl to dry him off, even helpful enough to spin around some to speed up the process. She bowed and dismissed herself to gather his clothing, but he stopped her with a hand on her wrist. "Oh but little mockingbird, I can choose my wardrobe myself, but of course you can help to dress me as Mother had desired. He hummed out-loud ever so happy with himself while digging through his belongings to find exactly what he was looking for. "Aha! I found it" he called out and placed the articles onto his bed.





The poor girl nearly fainted when she caught sight of what was laid out on the bed "Bu-but Master" her shaken form was stopped by one look from Abram. Trembling some still she quieted and bowed "As you wish master Abram" she picked up the corset and began to adhere it to his slim form.


Some time later Abram stood in front of a full length mirror, admiring the serf's work. But of course his delicate features didn't need any sort of paint to primp them. But she did skillfully tie up and braid the smallest amount of his hair, letting the rest lay framing his face so. His everblue eyes were always played up so well by any shade of purple, so of course he chose a light violet dress that was worn ever so well that his gender would not be a question. Abram looked every bit a woman. With a sly smile he thanked her for her work and once more hummed as he left the vicinity, leaving the poor girl to report to his mother as to JUST how she helped him prepare for this 'momentous' day. He practically skipped off to where he knew his favored plantation would be showing off their product.


He didn't really understand the appeal of lining up cattle for market and choosing like they are stock, but hey alls the more fun when he found a new toy that was in every way what his mother would most be displeased with. He gave a nod to a familiar face that couldn't recognize him in drag, yet he could tell the poor soul was trying to piece together the familiarity.





"Why hello miss, are you in the market for one of our lovely serfs today?" The man laid on the charm like a cheap perfume.


Abram gave a slight nod and began to inquire about the unique choices, knowing that unique was only a nice word for something being off or wrong. But of course the salesman gave a cheery smile while he pointed out a handful of 'unique' choices that she was lucky were still there to choose from. the aforementioned were made to stand in a line and Abram walked back and forth looking the selected in the eye to see how they would react. "Names and tell me something about yourself" he spoke with a soft yet unyielding voice. When the salesman went to spoke Abram held out a hand to silence him. "No, let them speak. I'm to make the most informed choice aren't I?" His words were colder, almost menacing while speaking to him now.


 
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