Pain's Pleasure

Chapter One

As the blood poured down from her quivering flesh, he smiled. The scent of it had him aroused and he wanted, no, needed to feed. He loved nothing more than pounding into a human (man or women it didn’t matter) while he sipped the sweet nectar of blood. It had him crazed. He grasped her breast, letting his elongated finger nails sink into her skin. Leaning down he licked her nipple until it stood erect. His smile broadened as he tore the nipple from her breast. Her screams made him harder. Laughing he ate her slowly and fucked her fast. Oh yes, so wonderful, so very delicious. Even as he feed he couldn’t wait for another feast. The hunger never stopped and he never wanted it to.


~~~~
A man cloaked in gray wool, approached the interior of the castle. The journey took over three days. He was weary and wanted nothing more than a warm bed, hot food and a willing woman, but before that he needed to make his demands clear. Entering the cool grand hallway, he smelled the faint sent of blood. He sighed; Bono must be torturing some servant. Bono liked nothing more than one of his servants to make a mistake so he could use his whip. Blood made all vampires hungry, but Nathaniel’s nose was very sensitive and the blood was impure and reeked. Sighing more heavily, he took the stairs two at a time. The walls were filled with paintings of Bono and his many wives, all deceased. If Bono loved anything more than torturing servants it was playing with his wives. This playing always became too much to handle and they’d die, many by their own hands and always before they sired him any children. Thus, Bono was constantly in want of a wife. Nathan could hear the screams from the hall, so he used it as his beacon. He followed the narrow hallway until he reached the door at the end. The scene was exactly as he expected. Bono smiling crudely at the woman chained to the panels in the floor as he licked the blood off the whip. The servant was nude from neck to waist, her breast heaving vehemently as she withered in pain. He would have felt sorry for the serving wench if she didn’t look like she enjoyed it. The pain was evident and most likely excruciating, but her eyes were filled with lust and her hand was swept under her skirts, touching herself. Nathan ignored the girl as he approached Bono.
“We need to talk.”
Bono startled at the voice.
“Oh Nat, didn’t hear you come in”
“Obviously,” Nat said in disgust, as he gazed at the women who squirmed in disappointment. Bono lifted the servant and gently pushed her towards the door.
“Later, pet.”
He said as he gazed at her retreating form. As soon as the maid closed the door, Bono walked into the adjoining room and took a seat at his desk.
“So what’s so urgent, that you had to come all the way out hear and disturb me with your presence.” Bono took a cigar out of his drawer and lit it.
“The shipment is tainted. Some one got into the new slave cargo and poisoned the slaves with the t-12 virus. It’s spreading to the western kingdom. Villagers are sick and we are hard pressed with time to cure it.”
Bono looked at Nat unperturbed “and what does this have to do with me?”
Nat scowled “A rumor is spreading that the Sinto clan has access to this virus and we both know who the leader is Bon.”
Bono clam expression turned deadly “are you accusing my brother of this Nat? You’ve known us long enough to understand our family loyalty. We would never do something like this.”
“Bono, if Lucian is not involved then you must help us find the culprit. The king demands retribution. ”
Bono arose and went to the window gazing at nothing in particular. “If I don’t partake, they will kill him.” He said this as a statement, and Nat nodded in agreement.
“What do you know?”
Nathan stood as he took out document from his satchel.
“The sage Misa was the first to claim that Lucian’s clan was involved. After we infiltrated their territory we discovered blueprints of a slave ship and samples of the t-12 virus. This is enough evidence to incriminate them. Bon, unless you can contradict these allegations, the entire clan will be executed.”
Bono approached his desk, gazing at the document for a number of minutes. Finally, Bono raised his head. “I’ll help, and by the end of this I’ll kill the bastard who dared to betray my family.”
Nat smiled silently making a similar oath.

~~~~

Osalie sighed, as she closed her book. Her mind kept wondering to earlier that day. Her father wanted (or rather is forcing) her to marry. Well, she should have expected something like this. Her sister and brother miraculously married outside the family and moved out. She was the sole daughter unmarried and as such a sore in her parents’ eyes. Although for the life of her, Osalie couldn’t understand why her father wanted her married. Despite ritual dinners she kept to her room and never ventured out unless forced to do so. Parties and balls were always the same, she stood on the outskirts, never approaching anyone and never encouraging conversation. People had always made Osalie nervous and anxious, so to keep from them she always pleaded a headache or any type of illness to stay home. Her mother usually revered in the fact that she didn’t have to bring her plain daughter into public, but when people started to question her absents it was guaranteed that Osalie would be at the next ball.
Her father never talked to her, but at dinner he broke away from this habit to state quite frankly that Osalie would marry by the month’s end and he would be the one to choice her husband. Osalie didn’t yell or even protest just nodded her head and asked to be excused from the table. In her room she picked up her newest book interest and started to read. Osalie wasn’t upset about the situation, she would simple not marry. Though her father would force, especially if the man in question has a sizable fortune, she would persevere. Osalie had thought hard about escape many times, and now she finally realized it was high time to leave. While this would be a fine idea, living arrangements are a problem. Her parents were wealthy but she never received a cent of their fortune. Anything she acquired from them was supervised by her mother. The only money she did have came from distant relatives on her birthday and holidays which wasn’t much as they tended to forget she existed.
For months she has thought about her situation and about one month ago she found a solution. A distant aunt lived as a recluse on the outskirts of Wales in a quite village. Aunt Teresa was shunned by her family for her iconoclastic views. She was said to be a risqué artist with a number of lovers as her muse. Osalie didn’t care about the gossip, the word shun was wonderful to her ears. Her parents would never forgive a scandal. If she ran away then she could finally escape and pretend she never had a family. Freedom, she would have it one way or another.
About a month ago Osalie sent a letter to her aunt as polite correspondence. Her aunt responded bluntly that if she had something of importance to say then she could write to her. Osalie, a bit taken aback, replied just as bluntly in her next letter that she would need a place to stay in the near future, and Teresa seemed to be the most fitting. Her aunt complied and stated that if Osalie did not get in her way, then they would get along famously. Osalie agreed.
Osalie arose from her bed and walked to the window. It was dark and cloudy; the moon gave little light behind the clouds. The streets looked solemn and gray, its wet pavement barren with the exception of a few carriages. Tonight father’s shipment of goods will be transferred at the waterfront. Her only hope was to steal away in his carriage and find a small inn near the harbor. In the morning she would book a passage to Scotland and from there hopefully her funds would hold out until she reached Aunt Teresa. She glanced around her room. She would miss it, her room had been her only companion and now she would leave, never to return. She touched the fading wallpaper and smiled, it was funny how all the extravagant rooms in the house meant nothing to her, but this, her dark and small room, filled her with pride. This was her safe house within the house she was supposed to call home. She shook her head and proceeded to pack. Her wardrobe was small but finely made. Her mother made sure of that (didn’t want the ton to believe she dressed her daughters in anything less than the finest silks and woven cotton). She packed all her walking gowns, nightgowns, and under garments. Osalie thought it best to leave her evening wear as her aunt never throws balls and the like. Osalie quickly stripped out of her light blue walking gown and exchanged it for a black gown of cotton. She braided her waist length hair and wrapped it into a nice neat bun. After she adorned her bonnet, empire waist coat, and gloves she gathered her satchel and reticule and quietly crept down the servants stairs. She escape via servant entrance and kept to the side of the house. Osalie looked around; the carriage was still waiting for her father, and the driver was standing near the horses, talking to them.
“Damn rich folk thinkin’ we ain’t nothin’. Is it fair our Lord here makin me wait fer hours?” He scratched the horse’s head “If I were a lord, I’d be kind to all mi servants, I would. Give ‘em bloody hell weekends off too. Heh heh. They’d bow to me like the king imself and say ‘we love you lord such and such’ and I’d smile big like and proud he Heh Heh.” As the driver continued to talk, Osalie waited on the side of the house hidden in the shadows. Lord Hennington, after what seemed like hours, when in all actuality it may have been a half an hour, finally exited the town house and approached the carriage. He looked at the servant unapologetically.
“Is everything ready?”
The driver straightened and bowed “yes milord, the ship is full and ready for sail, they only wait fer your send off.”
“Good, drive fast and make sure to avoid the main road no need to worry about anyone following.” Lord Hennington turned and entered the carriage closing the door behind him. The driver spit on the ground and took the reigns. Osalie, as quickly as she could, moved to the back of the coach. The carriage had an open seat in the back, for the footman, Osalie climbed on and mentally prepared for the journey. She was filled with nervous excitement. She had always been sheltered, and while she prayed for escape she never suffered the evils of the world outside her gilded cage. This town house and the one in the country have been the only houses she was allowed to know. Now as she gazed at the tall elegant house that emulated so many on the same street, she could only salute a mental farewell to a house that was never her home.