The slaves nodded and snagged their lost chastity belts, their shafts already wilting after the sating of their desire.
Aiming them back into position, they threaded the dildos into their opened rears and then with a sudden haul, slammed the locks back into position, sealing them in once more. With their sexual organs again placed under the control and whims of the seneschal, the slaves scuttled forward, kissed her feet and them jumped to their bare soles. Jogging away they vanished through the door, their step considerably more spry since Kira’s easing of their distracting tensions.
‘First, let’s get you fed,’ said the seneschal, drawing Kira over to the other door. ‘I want you on your best behaviour during my tour. Come with me, puppy.’
Through the portal was a short corridor with several doors laid in its walls. The first brought them into a kitchen where the refrigerator was opened, revealing row upon row of blood bags, the tags for transfusion purposes still upon them.
Removing a bag, the seneschal took a bowl from a cupboard and poured the contents into it. The sweet essence sloshed to and fro, shimmering and making Kira’s incisors emerge. Her eyes were wide, her limbs shaking with expectation.
Setting the bowl before her, the seneschal stepped back and watched as Kira plunged her lips into it. With a 145
lapping tongue she drew gulps of the succulent fluids, the chill in it a negligible taint against her ravenous hunger. Her sight flashed with spots as she fed from the vitality of the anonymous donor, stealing from their very essence by her leech-like feeding. In moments she had emptied the reservoir and quickly lapped at the sides, not even leaving a smear behind as she took all she could, uncertain as to when she would be fed again.
‘Now my pet, we have to go and make a check of the queen’s realm, to look in on a few regions at random’
revealed the woman, settling into a crouch before Kira, the latex purr of her descent making Kira swoon. A hand came forth and cupped her chin, bringing her eyes up to meet those of her owner. ‘Then there will be a meeting with the head slaves, after which we shall attend to the matter of training you more thoroughly, erasing all that you are, turning you into a humble beast. I’m going to take your mind from you, little pet, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.’
Kira pondered the matter in a heartbeat and was captivated. The threat that was meant to intimidate and horrify was a pleasure to her. She would willingly surrender to such training, to being stripped of her humanity so that she was nothing more than a hound at the heels of her gorgeous owner. Fully trained and obedient, that was her goal, and by reaching it she would impress the seneschal.
‘So while you see all the sights this world has to offer, think well, as it will not be long before I’ve taken such a power as thought from you,’ Cassandra purred, and then arose, pulling on the leash to have Kira scuttle in her wake.
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Sitting at the heels of his owner, Thanos watched in a forlorn mood as the procession of the oriental vampires and their entourage emerged into view.
Strolling with calm grace and regal majesty, the representatives of Tsuki-Yomi were led by the infamous Amatsu Mika Hoshi. The Dread Star of Heaven was ancient despite his youthful appearance, a creature of immense power that was at least fifteen hundred years old, probably more. A force in the Shinto religion that preceded Buddhism and the other faiths, he had been a lurking presence throughout Japan’s long history.
Thanos had heard tales of the vampire ninja he used to eradicate his enemies and opposition, warriors trained for centuries in the subtle arts of quiet death.
The man was almost hidden from view beneath his ornate armour, the ceremonial dress and weapons worn for this occasion with the queen.
Behind him strolled warlords in similar archaic extravagance, followed by their wives and concubines, and servants and human pets. The clan was akin to the house of his mistress, a place of carnal pursuits and subtle politics of sensual hedonism. Pleasures of the flesh and spirit were the guiding force behind their actions, the vampire nobles living lives of unbridled luxury with a vast slave contingent of willing or forcibly trained men and women.
Thanos was concerned because of this, for he had heard 147
Dana talking with Cassandra a few nights back, and the queen had informed her of the old custom they still honoured. While the clan was her guest, she would lend them one of her most prized slaves, and they would do the same for her. Thanos had an apprehensive insight that he was going to be the olive branch to commence the negotiations. Lupines had never managed to reach Japan, the island was too close knit, its vampires too deeply entrenched with numerous forces of the Wyrm and its demons assisting them. Every attempt to lead a crusade against the islands had never been anything other than total disaster.
Since Dana had captured him and exploited his submission to train him as hers, he had successfully remained her faithful pet. He had willingly gone forth to smash the rival vampire houses, capturing some of their leaders for the queen to take revenge on.
He still adored her, still worshipped her, and at such times when she tormented him and abused him for her dark joy he was happiest. Even Cassandra, who had been a jealous bane on his life since his arrival had not turned up to inflict her tortures on him for a long time now, finding other diversions instead.
Life was progressing in new directions, and it was starting to seem that soon he would be a neglected hound.
With such thoughts brought forward, he almost welcomed being handed over to the clan, to serve more attentive owners, and maybe, just maybe, seeing him taken by others would rekindle the queen’s old enthusiasm for her toy.
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The main door opened from what had to be Cassandra’s private apartments, and Kira was delivered once again to the winding corridors without.
On her hands and knees she trailed lovingly in the wake of the seneschal, watching her world pass by. This was her home now.
A set of doors glided apart, offering the diamond plate interior of a large lift to her gaze. Shuffling in, the seneschal tapped the lowest of the three buttons and the doors were sliding shut once more.
With a soft lurch of motion they started to descend, the smooth ride ending with a clunk as the veil of metal parted to reveal a new area in the deepest bowels of the palace.
A short corridor led to a box room that was clearly a guard post. The portal to enter it was filled with dense bars and a locked gate. Another lay directly beyond, and to the right a vault-like door lay open, letting sounds of merriment spill out onto the air.
In the room, manning a wooden desk, was a dark-skinned woman of stern physique. A short bob of dreadlocks fell about her alluring features, her eyebrows thin and perked to grant a perpetual quizzical expression.
Clad in a sleeveless leather jacket, the garment lay open to expose a leather strapless bra, the seamed cups embracing her smooth and ample breasts. The physique of her arms and torso were brazenly exposed to 149
intimidate, her very demeanour one that brooked no dissension to her will.
Black lycra leggings rolled with her curvaceous legs before slipping into heavy knee high boots, the fronts armed with opaque shin-guards and numerous buckles.
Crouching at her side was a man condemned to the same cast as Kira, his body squeezed into the confines of the puppy uniform, save that his bared nipples were pierced and weighted. The hound sat equably at the heels of his mistress, kept on a short leash while the woman perused details on an expensive laptop before her.
The seneschal approached the bars and stopped, catching the eye of the guard.
‘Greetings, seneschal,’ she said, with a hint of foreign accent.
‘I’m here for an inspection. Is head slave Gherth about?’ Cassandra asked.
‘No, seneschal, she is out recruiting again,’ replied the woman, thumbing a switch under the desk. The lock gave a startled buzz and dragged back, allowing the seneschal to meander through and throw it shut in her wake.
‘Are the reserves low or something, then?’ Cassandra continued, stopping before the hound and petting its head while speaking to the guard. Through the door, Kira could see another four of these guards, men and women, their fangs bared as they drank from glasses of rich red life.
About their feet scampered demeaned slaves. Bound in confining uniforms, some were clearly pets that they teased and made perform for their amusement, while others had hoods whose crown bore a platter and which carried bottles, glasses and myriad small implements of abuse and torment.
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The men and women used clamps and pegs to snag the skin of their victims, employing pinwheels and other devious instruments to make the slaves about them suffer while they toiled to please their betters.
Turning from this spiteful scene, the next barred gateway was opened, and Kira followed her owner within, casting a brief look across the fully trained pup by the desk. Was there any thought within that hood or had it all been expelled? Did the training actually reduce sentience to a primitive level? Or did it merely condition one to behave in such a manner, leaving normal thoughts to roll around and find satisfaction in the lot forced upon it, unable to slip free because of the indoctrination?
Walking the slender corridors beyond, Kira was horrified by what she saw as she was led through, the casual gaze of the seneschal skipping across the sights and merely making sure all was as it should be, untroubled by the nightmare of what this place represented.
Each wall was fully laden with small alcoves, each placed close to each other to optimise on space. In almost every single one was a contained being. Men and women, held to the interior wall by a plexus of metal bonds, stout tubes emerging about them and burrowing into their orifices. Pipes into their stretched maws ensured they were kept fed, and others about their loins carried away waste. They were completely unable to do anything save simply continue existing.
They could have been mistaken for the dead but for the display board on the wall, the monitoring sensors fed by wires attached to the bodies and keeping track of their vital signs.
Also, shuddering influence assailed their bodies on 151
occasion, the metallic bonds serving to pour voltage nips into them, to keep their muscles from wasting, eliminating bedsores that might start to spring up from such unrelenting captivity.
Beside their necks and arms, on each side, was an intricate engineered construct, the device a detailed sculpture of pipes and mechanised parts the purpose of which she could easily guess. The osmotic syringes would stab to their prey and siphon out the precious fluids, never breaking the skin, ensuring a long and terrible life in the arms of such strict capture.
Other alcoves held creatures such as she, served up as cattle to the appetites of others. The vampires were bound with far thicker restraints, and their monitoring devices gave up a far less distinct pulse. Locked in place, they could only watch the seneschal and her hound pass.
Mortal life was steadily introduced down their throats and the far more valuable vampiric sustenance was then harvested, serving to feed the army of ghouls that dwelt in the palace. These were the worst sights to see, for Kira knew that without the hampering of age or failing of body, such farmed immortals could well be held so for eternity.
Wandering the many halls of such distressing slavery, the seneschal checked that all was progressing as was prescribed, the dreadful silence in the air only beaten back by the shuffle of Kira’s feet and the brittle clack of the seneschal’s heels.
Suddenly the woman paused. Turning, she moved into an alcove and with one hand, captured the occupant’s nipple. The man winced, regarding her with utter rancour, straining against the bonds.
‘Still got some fight in you, eh?’ she mused softly, 152
regarding the captive from beneath a lowered brow.
‘Well, a few decades of this will cure you of that. How does it feel to be feeding the house that ruined you?
‘Foolish arrogant upstart,’ she scowled, turning the nipple and then letting go. ‘You have paid the price for your insurrection. I hope the memories of your meagre leadership and limited rule of the city above are strong ones, as you’ll find they are the only comfort you’ll find here.
‘Your time is over! Her majesty has taken back what is hers, and will now bleed you until time itself perishes,’
promised the seneschal, before airing a sadistic laugh and leaving the slave to his fate.
As Kira walked on all fours she wondered who the man was. Clearly he was a former enemy of the queen.
Was he one of the council that had been established, perhaps a chairperson of it, someone who led the city and represented the vampire houses? If so, she could understand why such a sentence had been imposed, for it meant he had been one of those who helped steal the city away from the queen, and because of this, Kira could feel little pity for the vampire.
Leaving the ranks of the feed banks, Kira was taken back to the lift and restored to the area of the queen’s domain.
Once more entering into the maze of corridors, the woman took her back to the main lift, passing through the now deserted throne room of the queen. It had seemed like an eternity since last she’d seen these hallowed halls, and it was still as breathtaking a sight as she recalled.
The elevator restored her to the upper reaches, and through the splendid halls she was taken. The levels above the training and storage grounds of the queen were 153
replete with life, with servants bustling to and fro, pets being walked, guests strolling with an entourage of comrades and slaves to attend them. It was almost intimidating, for in her time of training she had grown used to being alone or attended by a small number.
Sudden immersion in such numbers made her distinctly nervous. Kira kept close to her owner’s heels as they walked, wondering where she was being taken, but too devoted to impressing her owner to risk daring speech.