0 comments/ 15058 views/ 1 favorites The Making of Vampire Slaves By: NotWhatSheSeems The South of France1751 Viviane threw herself back onto the brocade coverlet and pulled the curtains around the bed. "Why are we forced to stay in this...this hovel, sister?" Annaliese, looking mildly bored, glanced around the palatial room, taking in the silk wallpaper and gold-leafed molding at the ceiling. "It is beneath us, sister. Hopefully Papa will return soon." "And who is this relative we are visiting?" Viviane groaned, plucking at the red velvet ribbons in her ebony hair, and kicking the slippers from her feet. "Our cousin, Gerald de Valmont, Marquis of Reniue. Or Papa's cousin. Or Maman's. Who knows? Who cares?" Annaliese replied as she pulled the crinolines from beneath her skirt, throwing them carelessly into a corner. Suddenly, she sat up and grinned wickedly. "Our cousin has left us alone too long, sister. Shall we find him?" She slipped the netting from her long hair, the mirror image of her twin sister, and her hair fell in black waves to almost her knees. Viviane jumped up and ripped off her own petticoats, letting her hair down as well. "Let's. He will not know what to make of us, my sister." Grasping hands, the two girls ran from the room into the cold hallway which led to the Library, giggling, having no idea what they were in for. Marquis de Valmont was occupied. Rather, his cock was occupied, buried in the mouth and throat of Lady Remington, Emma to her friends, and Snookums to her husband, Alfred, Lord Remington. She was in a complete disarray, her corset loosened, spilling her overly large breasts out the top, the nipples dusky and hard. Her pantalets were ripped open, her quim shiny in the candlelight, and one of the candelabra beeswax candles, fat and slick, had found its way into her dripping cunt. "Swallow me, Emma. Surely you can do better than that!" The Marquis lazily remarked, his mind not on the events of the moment. He absentmindedly grabbed the back of Lady Remington's head and thrust his cock in just a bit further, not hearing the gagging and groaning coming from her. Her hands grasped at the candle, pushing it deeper in her frantically. "My God, Emma, exactly how deep is your cunt?" he laughed, noticing the end of the candle getting sucked into her sloppy folds. Just then, the door to the Library blew open, banging into the plaster wall, the two Constantine sisters skipping in like children. "Oh, my God, oh my God, oh my God..." Viviane screeched like a broken record, grapping onto the back of Annaliese's gown. Her eyes were glued to the sight of her cousin, sitting calmly in a high-backed leather chair, staring back at them with a slight wry smile, as that...that woman was growing bluish in the face, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she passed out from not being able to breathe. As she fell in an ungraceful heap on the floor, the candle slid from her quim, its job obviously done. "Cousins, how good of you to join me!" The Marquis laughed, his cock still hard and stiff, shiny from the saliva of his forgotten conquest. "You...I...sorry to have interrupted, sir." Annaliese stammered, attempting to back out of the room, but Viviane had a death grip on her gown and would not move. Suddenly, she felt the cotton skirt rip down the seam in the back, and a great hunk of it tore away into Viviane's hands, not that the girl even realized it. De Valmont got up slowly, not taking the time to fix himself back into his pants, and moved along the wall to shut the door behind Annaliese. "Surely you have not troubled me, my dears. Do come in." He grabbed them both by the arms and dragged them further into the dim recesses of the room. "Don't mind Lady Remington. She just was not up to the task. I was growing tired of her anyway, and needed to replace her. Aren't I a lucky man you two are both here?" He grinned savagely, dropping the girls on the floor in front of the blazing fire place. "Now don't be rude and go anywhere." Turning, he grasped a bellpull beside the mantle of the fireplace, and distantly a deep bell rang, echoing through the mansion. He grabbed both girls around the head, covering their mouths before they could scream. A moment, a mere second, later, the door to the Library opened quietly, and Wentworth, the English butler, strode in. "Sir?" he drawled, his eyes staring slightly above de Valmont's head. "Remove that." He waved in the general direction of Lady Remington, still in a lifeless heap. Wentworth swallowed, but showed no other sign of discomfort, as if his Master were not standing there in a state of dishabille, holding his two cousins hostage as they mindlessly struggled against him, to no avail, with the unconscious wife of a visiting diplomat lying on the floor. Wentworth knew the cost of disobeying. Bending over, he picked up the poor woman, his black morning coat straining at the buttons, and turned and left the room without a sound. "Now, what shall we do with you two moppets?" de Valmont whispered to the frantic girls. "I do believe I can think of something." The Making of Vampire Slaves Ch. 02 "Comfortable, ladies?" de Valmont laughed, the latch on the last shackle clicking into place. He had hoisted one girl under each arm and hauled them, kicking, screaming, and crying to the master bedroom, a suite of opulence and squandered wealth. Viviane squirmed and kicked in vain, her mouth firmly gagged with a rubber bit that jacked her mouth uncomfortably wide. Like her sister, she was bound to the headboard of the massive canopied bed, her wrists in cold iron shackles. Her arms were pulled over her head with short, thick chains, but her legs were left unbound. She was dressed only in her blue brocade corset, her dress and pantalets ripped off by the Marquis without a strain or a second thought. Her nipples were hard and tight from fear. Annaliese was bound in the very same fashion, but to the footboard, facing her sister. She was too quiet, too accepting, and her eyes were glazed; her head lolled on her neck a little too freely. Watching her for a moment, the Marquis merely shrugged and turned back to the task at hand. "Wentworth!" de Valmont bellowed, his voice echoing through the overly large room. A few moments passed before the butler entered the room through the oaken doors. "Sir?" His voice quivered slightly, drawing a hard look from the Marquis. He quickly glanced at the girls before returning his gaze to his Master. "I have two spoiled, ungrateful guests who need my personal attentions for a bit." The Marquis laughed, his green eyes swiftly bleeding to yellow. Wentworth noticed, and he began to shake just a bit. "There are several items I need. Please send in Conner and Caesar. Also, bring me two of my thinnest canes." Wentworth's eyes shifted back to Viviane who was at this point kicking wildly, her eyes huge on her pale face. "Wentworth? Is there a problem?" de Valmont quietly said. Immediately, the scared butler pulled himself to attention. "Certainly not, Sir. I will fetch your items and send in Conner promptly." He bowed low and swiftly turned to leave the room, never seeing the cudgel before it left him bleeding the on floor. "I demand complete obedience, Wentworth." De Valmont spun the cudgel in his hands. Picking himself up unsteadily, Wentworth bowed again, blood dripping on the floor from his torn ear, and staggered out of the room. "Now, while we are waiting, I would hate for you to get bored." He sang to the girls, as if speaking to small children. Climbing up on the bed, ignoring the kicks raining down on him from Viviane, he placed his large hand over Viviane's cunt, the black hair there thick. "This has got to go, you know. I don't care for body hair on women." He stroked her cunt lightly even as she struggled to press her thighs together and kick him in the face at the same time. "Are you a virgin, I wonder? Or did the village boys have a go at you?" he mussed, his fingers tracing her clit. Sliding back, he sided up against the unresponsive Annaliese, his hand quickly finding its way to her quim. She moaned quietly, her head slumping backwards, her legs spreading wider. "Ah, this one has played this game before, I see." He laughed, his fingers finding their way into her hot core. "No virgin here, Viviane. Wouldn't your father be scandalized? For shame!" he shook with laughter, his fingers moving faster and deeper. She responded by pulling her knees up and spreading her legs as wide as they would go. Her juices flowed over his fingers, slick and hot and needy, and he enthusiastically plunged deeper, adding two more fingers to her depths. "I think the lady likes it." At that moment, a polite knock sounded at the door. "Damn...well, we'll take this up lately, my dear." He pulled his hand from her, wiping her juices from his hand into her hair. "Come in, come in, hurry it up a bit." He happily called out. The heavy door opened, and a young blonde man strode in wearing rough leggings and a loose muslin shirt with grimy boots. "You called me, Marquis?" he spoke in a thick Welsh accent. "Conner! Come in! I have a project for you." De Valmont grandly welcomed his friend, pointing at the girls. "I know you have taste for virgins, unlike myself." He grabbed a handful of Viviane's raven locks and gave them a savage yank. "I do believe I have a need for two very well behaved pets, and since no one else has applied for the job..." he shrugged. "These will do, I suppose. Their idiot father owes me a rather large debt." He sharply looked around. "Where is Caesar?" "The stable lad is giving him a good brushing as he got into the brambles today." Connor replied casually, only giving the girls a quick once over before turning his gaze back to the Marquis. "He'll be delivered shortly." Wentworth strode into the dim room, carrying two thin canes with curved handles, much in the English style, and the Marquis grinned as he slid them from the butler's grasp. "My favorite training tools have arrived." He tossed one to Conner who flexed it, making a whistling cut through the air. Turning to the girls, bound on the bed, he brought the cane down sharply across Annaliese's pale thighs. Coming swiftly to life once more, she shrieked as the bloody welt bloomed. Conner smiled, his fangs winking in the firelight.