Home is where the heart is

A/N: This first chapter is intro-intensive. The other stuff takes place in the other chapters. Sorry.

We all came from different walks of life, but all three of us were either stuck or in deep trouble when Vlad came for us. He’s not a Vampire, not really. But he is from Romania and just about every thing he does is enough to make you believe in Count Dracula.

Christine, or Chris as she preferred to be called, was from Sweden. She spoke English perfectly enough, with just a hint of accent. She had been living on her own since she was sixteen, when she moved to Ottawa. Her parents had died and she managed to prove well enough that she could support herself that the legal system left her alone. When she graduated at eighteen she was steadily running out of money because no one wanted to hire her. She was brilliant in school, got top grades, but hardly anyone wanted to hire her. With no money, she couldn’t go to college. No college, no job. No job, no money. And so the cycle repeats. Thanks to Vlad, she now has a future as a doctor. He paid for her university and she’s due to graduate in six months with high honours.

Sadako had been trained as a geisha. Her mother had been one before she married, and she trained Sadako herself. Two months after her debut as a maiko, she was kidnapped by people who specialised in human trafficking. She was to be married off to some greasy weasel leader of an oil company in Alberta. Vlad intercepted her before she arrived. He offered her the opportunity to get an education, and she decided she might as well give it a try. Her father loved her mother very much, but it never occurred to him that he could have an intellectual daughter, so he never bothered sending her to school. That was why she had been trained as a geisha in the first place. Her father didn’t believe her fit for anything else. Her mother didn’t care either way; either be a brainiac or beautiful. Father wouldn’t endorse brainiac, so they had to settle for beautiful. When they got the letter from her saying she had been rescued and had a future as a teacher, they were relieved and then some.

Me? I’m Mark. Markandeya. It means ‘sage’ in Hindi. My dad was controlling bastard; with all due respect to my other Indian ancestors. My mom was Canadian, and dad insisted my name be from his country. Mom spent ten minutes on the Internet before finding the ‘perfect’ one. He restricted her personal life and all, but he did love her. Really love her. He practically worshipped her, and built an altar to pray at after her death, where he placed her urn of ashes. When she was alive, he would allow her to parent me in the way she saw fit. After she died, it was all rules and restrictions and I was not allowed to fraternise with anyone who did not meet his approval. I was running away one night, because I had just graduated and wanted to be a journalist. I had done average in school. I might have done better, but I’m a daydreamer; can’t focus on anything for more than ten minutes. Anyway, I wanted to do journalism. I like writing, and photography and film fascinate me. I wanted to be the one behind the camera capturing my vision, and then writing about it. Journalism would be perfect, right? OH, no. Not for dad. I was supposed to be an engineer, or a doctor or a lawyer. Doctor would’ve been okay, except I hate hospitals. They give me the creeps. I walk into one, and I think about how many people have died there, and if their spirits might still be floating around. So I ran away, and straight into Vlad.

He knows how to pull strings in certain departments. He’s rich. Like, rich. And he cares about all three of us, really. So one day, boom! There I am, freelancing for the Sun. I’ve been at it for about a year, now, and the editor hinted the other day about taking me on permanently. Not that I need the money, mind you.
Vlad cares for us like we’re his children, in most ways. He makes sure we’re happy. If we’re having problems, we can always talk to him. No matter what it’s about. And if we wants something that we’d need a long time saving up for, he’ll get it for us. He notices when something’s bugging us. And he makes sure we have plenty of time together. Whenever all four of us aren’t working during the day, we go on trips or play games or something. The only difference comes at night.

Did I mention we live in a mansion? It’s huge. We all have our own huge bedrooms, and Vlad let us style them the way we wanted. If we didn’t already have it, he’d buy it for us. Each of us had a 40-inch television in our rooms with a DVD player and digital cable was available in every room where there was a TV. We also all have the latest computers with high-speed Internet hook-up.

Chris’ room is the definition of artiste. Okay, maybe the next-best thing. She painted the walls and ceiling herself, partially using her fingers. Okay, she used her fingers a lot. The walls are mainly black with smears of purple. Because of her ‘finger art’, the purple mixes with the black and makes different shades of purple, from really dark to almost light; on certain parts of wall (mostly the corners) are dark green pine trees. The only place we can’t see the paint effect is where she’s put up tapestries, prints and posters of wolves. She’s nuts about wolves. The ceiling is similar, but she used a more even mix of white, blue and purple. It looks like the sky on certain mornings. She even painted a huge image of a wolf howling at a somewhat faded full moon. Her floor is hardwood, but in the middle (and taking up most of the space) is a huge rug of a white wolf with a winter background. Almost everything she wears is black, but not in the Gothic sense. She really looks like one of those Parisian artist people, except that her beret is more like the army type (though black, of course).

Sadako’s room is the definition (ok, so I’ve got a lot of definitions) of traditional Japanese set-up, if you don’t count the electronics. She sleeps in a Western bed, but she has a short table in the middle of the room for her homework. It’s the kind you have to kneel at. She will sit with us at the dinner table, but she doesn’t want to completely lose her geisha skills. You can tell by the way she walks that she used to be a geisha. They have this way of walking that makes their dresses rustle. She had us watch Memoirs of a Geisha to make it easier to explain certain things.

I’m still trying to figure out a style for my room. I’m not in it very often so I just put up a bunch of posters.

Every now and then (about once a month or so) Sadako will cook an Asian-style meal and put on a kimono Vlad had made for her. When she does that, we eat in one of the three dining rooms which has been set up Asian-style. The table is one we have to kneel at, but that can get tiring when you’re not used to it. Vlad had some cheat seats made for us. We place them in-between our feet to put our butts on so that we don’t have to weigh on our legs too much. Sadako is used to it, and Chris likes playing tough by refusing to use it. Then she complains that her legs hurt and she has to sit for a long while.

There’s the main dining room with linoleum floor and a regular-sized table. It looks like a normal family dining room. That’s where we usually eat.

The last dining room has a slightly longer table, hardwood floor, and decorations depending on the occasion. Chris and Sada usually team up for that. And boy do they make a great team.

The entertainment room had a wide, flat screen, also with DVD player and we had more movies than we ever had time to watch, though we had seen each one at least once upon purchase. Pouffy, comfortable couches and la-Z-boys make up the furniture. Chris arranged the style of black and silver.

One of our living rooms has been assembled Victorian style according to how I wanted it to look. We even have a working fireplace. I say the way I wanted it to look: I tried to make it look like Sherlock Holmes’ sitting room. Every detail I could derive from the stories, right down to a Persian slipper filled with tobacco on the mantle, even though none of us smoke.

The last living room has been arranged by Sadako with tatami mats, bamboo blinds and sliding doors with paper lining for access.
Now, about the night: living with Vlad means you’re not gonna hold onto your virginity very long. He never raped any of us, but he has this way of making you want him. Easy. He encourages that we try stuff amongst ourselves, but he made it very clear that if we ever try to bring someone from the outside, we have to introduce them to everyone else first and establish a solid trust. Not that any of us have ever tried bringing anyone else in. We’re all very happy with each other.

Sadako and Christine look damn hot together. It’s just in Sadako’s nature that she always be on the bottom. Her love is the same as everything about her: beautiful, artistic and passionate. She always puts her heart into anything she does; therefore nothing should ever be treated lightly with her. You have to mean it, and be very clear.
Chris is the same, minus the artistic bit; sex is the only thing she doesn’t add art to. She’s ‘on top’. She acts like Sadako’s older sister, even though the two are only a few months apart. They’re both 22. I’m nineteen. Chris never does stuff with me. I’m ‘the kid’ to her. She likes older men, like Vlad. He’s only 34, but he knows things. He reads and he’s had experience, but always the safe stuff. That’s something else: we don’t use condoms because it’s always just us so we don’t have to worry about diseases, but he insists about the girls taking the pill. He’s said if ever they want children, it’s fine so long as we talk about it first as a group; but other than that it’s cum fiesta all the way: no barriers.

I act just somewhat rough with Sadako; Vlad matches her artistic ability during sex. Watching those two can make me come without even wanking. Vlad is the only one Chris is submissive to; he can make her squirm and squeal. I’d like to do that to her. She’s never directly mean to me, but she tends to forget that I’m an adult.

The things Vlad does to me... my God. Most of the time he does stuff to me, but sometimes he’ll have me do stuff to him. Mainly suck his cock. I never got in his ass yet, but I’ll bet he’d let me if I asked.
Vlad’s bedroom is huge, and he’s got a gigantic bed; the one with the kind of headboard that he can tie people to. He’s got a bunch of toys in there. He’s usually got two of us in at a time, except for me. It’s like I’m special to him, that when he’s got me it has to be me alone, most of the time. He’s never had any of the girls alone except for the first few nights of both of them.