Blood Ties

Title: Property: Part 1
Pairing: Original Characters
Implement: Belt
Summary: Armand temporarily forgets just who it is that he belongs to.
Warnings: Contains descriptions of sexual acts as well as a very harsh punishment.
Acknowledgements: Thank you Dragonclaw for giving me a review, and yes, I intend to write more of these, LoL. After this story it will probably be a few days while I write the next, but the one following it is already finished and should be added quickly.

Part One


Paulos sat and pondered. He knew that there was something odd going on, but he couldn’t figure out what. All of his childer seemed to be avoiding him. Even Armand was striving to stay unnoticed. He wondered what they possibly could have done that warranted ALL of them staying out of sight.

At the moment Armand was just finishing up his homework from school. Paulos had purposefully chosen to spend his morning (early evening for most mortals) reading in the den of their old manor, knowing that his youngest would be there. Armand hadn’t changed his usual schedule when he entered to find his Sire already occupying the room, because to do so would draw even greater suspicion. He had, however, moved to the far end of the room to avoid close scrutiny. Now he was done with his tasks and hurried to clean up the papers and folders spread across the floor around him so that he could get out of sight. In his haste he forgot about the vampire’s very keen eyesight.

As he bent over to pick up the last piece of paper, his shirt fell forward to reveal his lower back and waist above his low riding, baggy jeans. Paulos looked close and saw something out of place. Just above the waist of the jeans was a bruise. A bruise that shouldn’t have been there. He wanted to know just what was going on.

“Armand, come here for a moment please,” he called, sounding casual. The boy froze for a moment before straightening to put his papers on a table and coming to stand before the wise old vampire.

“Yes,” he asked, also trying to sound casual, though Paulos could easily see the hidden nervousness.

He wrapped an arm around the boy’s waist and drew him to stand between his knees, keeping a hand on the small ass. He didn’t miss Armand’s stiffening posture either, almost like he could be in pain from the touch. “I haven’t talked to you much lately and thought I should find out what you’ve been doing. How is school going?”

“Umm, just fine I guess,” he replied. “Actually I have a paper do and I need to go to the library to research it. I was just going to leave now.” He tried to pull away but Paulos was having none of it.

“No, no, no, there is time enough for that later. Don’t you have time for your Sire?” He waited for the reluctant affirmative nod before continuing. “Have you been playing any sports lately?” Armand gave a confused shake of his head in the negative. “Been in any fights? Hurt yourself in any way?” Both also negative.

“Well I find it rather odd, then,” he said with false fatherly concern, “that you seem to have a strange bruise. Right about here,” and he pressed firmly where he remembered the discoloration to be. Armand’s back arched away form his hand and he hissed in pain. At this reaction Paulos moved his hand to the boy’s front and began undoing the fastening of his pants. “Maybe I should have a closer look.”

Armand began protesting violently, saying that it wasn’t necessary. Paulos only grabbed a flailing wrist in his free hand and said in a now steely voice, “On the contrary, I insist.” With that he spun the boy around and pulled down his pants. He froze at what was revealed.

Armand’s ass was covered in bruises, all taking the form of strong fingers. In the midst of the purple fingerprints were the remains of four sets of identical puncture wounds. He heard Armand give out a small scream and realized he was squeezing the boy’s wrist in a viselike grip. He loosened his hold but didn’t release the hand. He felt rage overtaking him.

“BOYS,” he roared loud enough to reach ever corner of the house, “get in here NOW.” Within moments all four of the childes came hurrying into the room together, all looking half asleep. The sun would be down in a couple of hours and they had probably just been waking up. When they stilled, all rubbing their eyes and yawning to reveal sharp fangs, Paulos spoke. He roughly turned around the boy in his arms to reveal his bruised and wounded backside and said, “Would any of you care to try and explain this.” Suddenly they turned still as statues and found themselves very wide-awake. They each opened and closed their mouths, trying to find words to explain. After only a moment of this the Master vampire turned to the halfling. “How about you explain this,” he said.

“Umm… well…uh,” began the scared young man. Then he said the first thing that popped into his mind and might get him off the hook. “Th-they forced me. I begged them to stop but they wouldn’t…and…umm…” he trailed to a stop at the very dangerous look on his Master’s face.

Paulos looked at his childer to find four sets of truly terrified eyes set in four frantically shaking heads. They all began babbling denials until their Sire had had enough. “SILENCE,” he roared. The response was immediate. “I’m not a fool,” he continued in a lower tone. That said he suddenly slapped Armand hard enough to throw him to the floor.

The boy screamed in pain and clutched his burning jaw and cheek as his Master rose above him. “Get up,” he said in a menacingly low voice. Immediately Armand decided he preferred yelling. When he didn’t move fast enough, Paulos reached down and dragged the boy up by his shirtfront until they were eye to eye.

“Let me tell you a little story,” he began. “Not too long ago Arlis here was much like you. A young halfling that hadn’t yet been turned, hadn’t even had his first fuck. It was well known that he was MINE to do with as I would and that no one else was allowed to touch him. It is one of my rules that all followed, or else. But not everyone was happy with this arrangement. You see there was once another sibling that you never met. He took a liking to little Arlis and waited for the right chance to come along. One night when I was gone, he saw his chance and took it. He cornered Arlis and raped him. Now I may put up with a lot of things, but rape is not one of them. Most importantly, though, Arlis was mine to do with as I pleased until I decided otherwise.”

Paulos stopped the stream of words and waited for a reaction. After a few moments Armand finally got the nerve to ask, “Wh-what happened to him?”

“When I returned to find what my own childe had done,” he said grimly, “I dragged him into the yard at dawn, chained him to a metal pole, and left him to his fate. We all heard his screams as the sun rose. By nightfall there wasn’t even ash remaining.”

“You see,” he continued to the paling visage, “I know that they would never do such a thing because, as much as I love them, they are all aware that I would not hesitate to do the same to them if I even thought they may have. So, halfling, was it rape? Do I murder them?”

“N-no,” the boy stuttered into the silence, “no, it wasn’t rape.”

“I though not,” the Sire said and tossed Armand back to the ground. He stood over the boy and said, “I think you need to relearn some lessons you seem to have forgotten. This time, I think they’ll stick.” He said this last while unbuckling his belt.

The halfling looked like he desperately wanted to say something, but apparently didn’t dare with his Master’s present mood. “Get rid of those pants,” the Master said, pointing to the jeans that had somehow remained on Armand’s legs. He did so and then nervously waited for further orders. Paulos had pulled the belt from its loops and doubled it over, holding the buckle and loose end in his hand. “Now go to the chair and bend over the arm of it. Place your hands under your chest and don’t move.” The terrified boy only nodded as he did as told.

Now Paulos turned to his childer. “I have but one question for you to answer. Did any of you fuck him?” Four heads shook in the negative.

“We knew better than that Sire,” said Erik. “We were playing amongst ourselves and he just, sort of, joined in. We didn’t get too carried away until he offered…well…” Erik pulled back his lips to reveal gleaming fangs for a moment, but the Master took his meaning.

“Of course, all of you jumped at the chance to have another taste of him after so long,” he replied. The other vampires winced but didn’t deny the claim. “I thought I could trust you. I see I was wrong.” The Master said only one more word, “Strip,” before returning to the waiting boy. They all hurried to do as he demanded and tried not to think of what it signified. When they were finished they simultaneously dropped to their knees.

Armand had turned his head to keep his Sire in sight. When the vampire disappeared behind him he pushed his face into the cushion of the chair with a groan. He had only felt the belt before a very few times, but knew that if he had ever deserved it, it was for this.
This was the first time for one thing though. When the Master spanked him or paddled him with the hairbrush it was always over a pair of strong thighs. He had heard Sire tell the others to bend over various pieces of furniture for a beating with the belt, but he had also seen it done over the knees. He had rather hoped he wouldn’t face the former position used with this implement for many, many years.

Looks like he wasn’t going to be that lucky however. The cool leather of the chair arm under his belly just wasn’t the same as the comforting feel of his Sire’s thighs. And wasn’t that an odd thought. Armand hated going over his Master’s knees as it was always a painful experience, but somehow this was just so much worse.

The guilt inside him had been eating him alive for more than a day, ever since it had happened. ‘It’ being a fun, for the moment, time spent ‘playing’ with his brothers. He had walked in on the four of them fucking, sucking, and drinking each other, not an unusual even. He had almost left, but temptation was an insidious thing.

He had walked over to a surprised Dimitri and given him a deep and hungry kiss while reaching to take Erik’s cock in his hand. Soon they were all focused on him. The feeling of tongues and hands all over him was very heady. He knew that he was Sire’s, knew he should go to him with his needs, that the rules were there for his own protection, but damn it just felt so gooood. They took turns thrusting their fingers into his tight ass, sometimes two or even three, and rubbing his prostate to bring the greatest pleasures.

He had felt the scrape of sharp teeth across his buttocks and had groaned with need. Soon another mouth joined the first. He knew they wouldn’t take his blood unless it was offered and being taken in such a way was the most erotic thing Armand had yet experienced. “Oh, please…. please do it,” he had begged, not saying what ‘it’ was though, as it wasn’t really needful. Soon there were four mouths and the two fingers in his ass began vigorously rubbing the sensitive gland inside as they simultaneously bit down. With a scream of ecstasy he had cum hard.

They had been careful not to take too much, only a few mouthfuls of the red liquid each. He hadn’t even felt the painful gripping of fingers trying to hold back their owners from taking more or the sweet necter. When they were done they lay together in a heap and he had discovered that he wasn’t the only one to cum. Markeen had looked at his ass after a few minutes to access the damage.

He saw the marks their fingers had made and knew they would soon turn black and blue. The wounds from their fangs were already healing, but it was obvious what had caused the marks . Those bruises though…”Umm,” he had said to the boy, “I really think you should stay out of Sire’s sight for a few days. Especially out of his bed. If he sees those marks…” There was no need to say anymore. They all had a pretty good idea what would happen to them. They had just broken one of the most important of the Master’s rules.

Armand had only nodded. The five of them had risen and dressed, each thinking that Sire had an unnerving habit of finding out what you didn’t want him to know. He knew to whom he belonged and that this act had been expressly forbidden until he was turned, probably in another year or so. He adored the Master and didn’t want him angry or, even worse, disappointed in him. But what was done was done and the most he could do was try to stay out of sight. The last thing he wanted was for Sire to find out about this. It was these very feelings of guilt that had gotten him, all of them, caught.

A very firm and rough hand grabbing his sore ass brought him back to the present and the reality of a very, very angry vampire lord that had every intention of beating him raw. He’d known the Master would be angry, but this… Well, knowing about this fury would definitely have given him the restraint to leave his brothers to their orgy. My, hindsight was a wonderful thing, he thought rather grimly.

“You are mine,” hissed Paulos’s voice in his ear. “I took you, raised you, made you into the almost vampire you are and I could very easily end your existence right now. I own you, halfling. I love you like a son and more, but you had DAMN well better learn who is Master.” Bad language from the Master, outside of the bedchamber, was not a good sign. The hand left his ass but the words continued. “You are MINE.” This last word was accompanied by the crack of leather on flesh and a scream of pain.

No more words were said but the sounds continued as the belt cracked across Armand’s very sore rear. The screams soon turned into begging. “Please, Sire stop. I can’t take anymore. Please…” But the beating continued. The belt rose and fell, each welt impressing the lesson into Armand’s flesh. One time he managed to get a hand loose from where his weight pressed them to his chest and reached back to try and protect his bottom. Paulos had only directed the belt to land across the end of the blocking fingers, which were immediately pulled back with a screech. The beating continued without pause. After about 15 strokes the Master adjusted his aim to hit the tops of the thighs and the place where they met the round red globes before him for the last 10. By the end the boy was no more than sobs, tears and pain.

Sire didn’t hold him, as he had hoped but instead pulled his head up by his hair until they were again eye to still angry eye. “To whom do you belong,” Paulos asked.

“You S-Sire,” despite the pain, the response was immediate and automatic.

“And who is allowed to fuck you?”

“Y-You Sire.”

“And who can taste your blood?”

“Only you S-Sire.”

“That’s right,” continued the vampire, “only me. This time I suggest you remember that.” He released the handful of hair and allowed the sobbing boy to fall to the floor. Turning to the remaining wide-eyed miscreants still kneeling nude on the floor he met the eyes of Arlis. “Do you know what I want,” he asked. When he received a nod he said, “Go get it.” The young vampire jumped to his feet and raced from the room. Only moments later he returned bearing two and a half feet of long, slender cane. He offered it to the Master on bended knee before crawling to kneel once again beside his brethren.

Paulos nudged the still sobbing body at his feet with one booted toe. “Get your clothing and go to your room,” he said.

Armand leapt to obey. He grabbed his clothes from the floor and raced out the door and up the stairs to his room, sobbing the entire way.