Amos allowed a small smile to tug at the corner of his lips as he watched his son walk out of the room. The boy, turned man, was always his pride and joy. Though he loved all his children, some more than others, he adored his son to the max. The man was so much like him in thought process and certain personality traits it was as if he were looking into a mirror…of course…not visually.
As he ate, he listened to his wife’s words, and mentally couldn’t help but agree fully. He knew who she had been speaking of, and it made his small grin fall to a smirk as silence fell in the room. Taking another bite, he rose his eyes to the other end of the table until he swallowed. “It would be easier to just kill her.” His eyes and head turned to Bess after he’d finished. the cold seriousness he’d always held remaining. He loved his daughter, and that could not be stressed enough, but she had struck him cold toward her over the years. No matter how he tried, the girl constantly refused him. A single scolding to her was like a thousand lashings, as she over exaggerated everything he did.
“At least then she couldn’t complain about every damned thing we did, whether our intention be born of kindness or not.” He shook his head and continued to eat, placing the last bite of food from his plate into his mouth. Once he’d swallowed, he sat back, and threw the fork across the room, his rage obviously growing. “We give her everything she wants, yet she rebukes us because I do not place soul blame on her sister when they bicker.” He stabbed his knife into the table and shot up from his seat. “Speak with her Love. Either she stops her childish behavior, or my disowning her will be the least of her worries.” He turned from the table, and adjusted his attitude. Walking to his wife’s side, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “I would rather not see our flesh and blood leave this world because it does not understand it’s role.”
After having a pleasurable soak in her marbled tub, she decided to go riding. It had been some time since she’d seen her beloved Jezzie and felt it was time to give the girl the exercise she rightly deserves. She opened her wardrobe to hunt down her favorite riding dress, a low-cut black and red ensemble she felt showed off her assets to the best of her abilities.
Once she was dressed, she began searching for her riding hat, grumbling under her breath when she didn’t immediately locate it among her other hats. She huffed in frustration before she started tossing things from the closet to her bedroom floor in a fit of pique. Still not finding the item in question, she stomped to her bedroom door, tossing it open and poking her head in the hallway. “SALLY!” she shouted, her voice amplified in the vastness of the hall. Sally, who’d been on the other side of the manor, cleaning some tapestries, rolled her eyes in exasperation and made her way to Elvira’s wing of the manor.
When she arrived at Elvira’s room, she stood in the doorway, shocked. There appeared to be what amounted to an entire wardrobe of clothes on every surface available, even hanging from the chandelier over the bed. As she watched on, more clothes came flying from the closet and she could hear angry muttering coming from within.
“Miss Elvira!” Sally exclaimed. The clothes shower paused and a disheveled head appeared. Elvira frowned. “What?”
“What in bloody hell is going on?” Sally demanded.
“I am looking for my riding hat.” Elvira announced as if Sally should have known this fact already.
“Well if you’d bothered to ask, I would have told you it is on the hall table by the front door.” Sally huffed. Elvira stepped from her wardrobe with a bright smile, so out of place on her normally ireful face.
“Well why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?” Elvira snorted, stomping past Sally and down the hall. Sally watched her go, shaking her head.
“Devil take ye, then.” Sally muttered, moving to clean up the destruction left behind in the wake of Hurricane Elvira.
Elvira found her hat right where Sally said it was and pinned it to her head, carefully affixing the veil over her face. She took up her reticule and her gloves and started out. “I’m going to see Jezebel if anyone wishes to know my whereabouts!” she called out to anyone who would have been listening. She didn’t wait around for a reply, stepping out into the morning light. The family’s carriage was waiting to take her to her destination and the footman helped her inside before the coachman got underway.
Bess watched Amos, that ever present smirk of hers still twitching upon her lips. “It would be…i’ve done so before” she said simply, lifting another slice of salmon and chewing. Upon swallowing Bess glanced to her husband again, she watched as he became angrier and angrier. Bess said nothing for a long time, she just continued to watch him until he stood up. “She is spoilt, our own doing however. Yet it is not to late to change it all.” Bess smiled as he walked toward her, coming around behind her chair and placing his hand on her shoulder. She covered his hand with hers and squeezed gently “I understand my love” she said, turning her head and lifting his hand. SHe kissed his palm gently before rising herself. “Go, worry about what we spoke of and i will deal with our children” Bess cupped his cheek with her hand and leaned forward, kissing his lips gently. With that she slid out from her space at the table and made for the door, her foot fall light but her presence commanding.
Bess and Amos’ Chambers
Bess strode into the bed chamber, her maid, an elderly woman named Mag with dark eyes and a stooped back. Bess tossed of her over coat before sliding her night gown up and over her head. Bess stood naked for a while before swanning over to the large vanity table she had in the corner of the room. She sat and beckoned Mag over with a crook of her finger. The old maid then set about fixing her hair. Bess had a lot, truth be told. Long and brown and curled at the ends, but Mag did her best, she coiled and pinned until it was set in a neat bun at the back of her head, little wisps and curls had been left out before Mag slide a ruby and silver pin into the bun for decoration. Bess stood and smiled, patting her hair down approvingly. The dress was next. Bloomers and a corset first however, Mag laced her in and Bess ran her hands across the smooth expanse of the silk and whale bone that held her together. Mag then slid the dress of Red silk and black cotton over her head before lacing it into place.
Once dressed, Bess glanced at herself in the mirror above the vanity, a smirk tugging at her lips once more. She then turned and glided out of the room, leaving the mess she had created to Mag.
Bess stood in the arch way that connected the house with the garden. Ivy and roses the colour of sapphires. She had spied Juliette before her daughter had spied her mother. “must you destroy the carnations?” Bess drawled, walking forward and further into the garden. Bess linked her hands in front of her stomach and eyed her daughter with a mixture of disgust and boredom. As much as she loved her children, Juliette had grown further and further away from her as she grew up. Bess watched her daughter carefully for a moment, not saying anything else but allowing what Amos had told her to sink in and a smirk appeared on those full lips.
Juliette walked along the row of flowers slowly, wearing a black and blood red gown that accentuated her curves well. Her skirt was in her hands as she moved, her bare feet gliding over the fresh earth as her fingertips reached out to touch the petals. The gardens really were lovely, especially this time of year. As she mulled over the family breakfast, she frowned. Why could she not accept her fate? The demon despised the fact that she had to live off of blood and the negative feelings of others like the lowly vampires. She was a Roxburg, and such an act should be beneath her. And yet, here she was, feeding off of the flesh and blood of men. Pausing, she crossed one arm over her body as she reached out to stroke a carnation. Why was it so difficult to embrace their way of life? She knew her father expected better of her, but she felt so torn. The Roxburgs were so consumed with looking inward to their egos and expanding a kingdom that never belonged to them that they seemed petty, selfish, and failures to Juliette. They would never gain control over the humans. Not with fear. The Roxburgs would fail and Juliette did not want to sink with them. Frowning more, she watched a pair of ravens fly overhead. She was spending too much time in cathedrals. She once held a high regard for her demonic family and now… It all seemed so wrong.
While contemplating how she would even survive her family, Juliette heard the vile familiar voice of her mother. Turning around slowly, she faced the demon matriarch head on and looked into her eyes. “Hello mother.” Staring her down, she smiled faintly. Bess was everything that Juliette ought to be. She was so proud and sure of her demonic background, and she certainly didn’t take shit from anyone. Why couldn’t her apple fall from that tree? Stepping towards her, she bowed her head politely and continued quietly “I know I am a disappointment to you and father. Just the look on your face gives you away.” Turning away, she ignored her mother’s question and continued to touch the carnations. Good riddance. “I don’t know what to tell you. Perhaps you ought to just discard me and move on with the plans you two are so carefully planning.” She spoke bitterly, but she highly doubted her mother would offer any assistance with her embracing her demonic nature. No matter how much she wanted to…
Oh how Bartholomew had loved to spend his Saturday afternoons down in the dungeons of the Roxburg manor, teasing and humiliating the very decrepit souls that had fallen foul of the Lord of Roxburg. To Bart, this was his playground, better than any sand box or gym set. His happiest memories, were of the new ways he discovered how to torture and maim the hapless humans, their screams but music to the demon prodigy’s ears.
“I can’t hear you.” the child would chortle, poking one poor maid with a hot poker, its blazing red tip searing her flesh, and the scent of her skin on fire was positively delicious. The louder she would scream, the more he would demand more, and more, till finally her skirt would catch a light, and she would go up like a roman candle.
Course those days were so long ago, and now Bartholomew was grown, and not only that he was now a student of the famous Oxford university. Who would have thought the diabolical tubby little brat, would turn into an even bigger tubby brat. With his father’s permission, to take which ever prisoner he felt the need for; Bart strolled along the metal cages, and snickered as he spotted a shivering maiden, who had her back to the wall, eyes wide with fear, and looking ghastly for having been kept down in the dungeons so long. Bart came to a stop right before her cell, and mocked a little pout.
“D’awww..did Father lock you up for failing to starch his shirts? You are a bad bad girl. And…I am happy to inform you that it is /I/ that shall be serving out your punishment.” The girl started to sob, going down on her knees, with her unkempt hair spilling over her face. It really was a pitiful sight. Bart placed the key in the lock and turned it, as the other keys jangled merrily on the chain. “Don’t cry and blubber, that will just make me cross, and you really don’t want to make me mad, now do you?” He reached in and grabbed a fist full of her hair, and started to drag her out, as he hummed a tune happily. The girl’s feet scrabbling along on the floor, as she tried to resist, but of course, Bart was much stronger. His snickers grew louder as the other prisoners howled and cried out for her mercy. Bart spun and smiled at all of them, in such a way it was sickening.
“Fear not for her, my little friends. Fear more for yourselves, when I am through.”
Bart continued to drag the girl to the door, that led up to the main part of the house, where his room was a dominatrix’s delight.
Bess crossed her slim arms and watched her daughter with that smug smirk she always seemed to wear. It was like looking into a Mirror with Juliette, physically they appeared the same, only Juliettes eyes were dark whilst Bess’ were light, but Bess had also gotten on a lot like her daughter when they were the same age. Though her mother had curbed that behavior quickly…which only made Bess feel like she should have done the same sooner. Bess narrowed her eyes when her daughter dared to eye her up, bristling she was have tempted to go over there and use physical violence to take her daughter in hand. Bess calmed herself though, and quickly….the violence would have to come later. “A disappoint is an understatement” she replied, her tone clipped.
Bess walked forward, running her hand along a pulp rose head the colour of blood. However at her touch, the thing withered and died, the petals fell from the stem, black and rotted and dead. Bess seemed not to notice as she continued running her hand along the flowers until the rose bush was indeed, dead. Bess stopped in front of her. She was at least a head taller than her daughter and as she cast those pale blue eyes across the child she had birthed Bess smirked “Do not think yourself special Juliette. I have had a hundred child before you and i will have a hundred more before the century ends.” Bess took a lock of her daughters hair between her hand, stroking the soft brown strand carefully. However, like the roses, her hair began to grow grey and brittle under her mothers touch “You will cease your foolish behavior” she said simply, her free hand cupping her daughter cheek and turning it wrinkled and flaky “Or, like you have suggested, i will see that some awful accident befalls you…either that or i shall end your life myself”. Bess smiled gently and let go of her daughter, her youth and colour returning as soon as she backed away. Bess linked her hands before her stomach and smiled sweetly, like the mother she was. “Am i clear darling?” she asked, arching a dark brow in question.
Juliette frowned slightly as her mother said it was an understatement, but she didn’t dare say anything. As much as she despised her mother, she feared the woman greatly. As her mother stood before her, she had to look up to meet her eyes. She turned her head slightly to look at the hand that was touching her hair, her dark eyes narrowing but still she said nothing. Yes, her mother certainly had many children, but Juliette was special. Her parents did not know of how she spent her nights, sneaking out to savagely murder innocent women. She drank their blood, ripped out their organs, and if they were virgins, bathed in their blood. It was magnificent. As she felt her hair turn brittle, she cringed. Her mother could be a real bitch. Listening to her mother speak and trying not to cry out as she was touched, she looked at the ground obediently. She would win her mother’s approval and affection if she had to die trying. They had to be proud of her when she sat on a throne of corpses. Nodding slightly, she spoke in a quiet voice “Always, mother. I will try harder.” Flicking her dark brown eyes back up, she looked at her mother with both hate and desperation. She so badly wanted to follow in Bess’s footsteps, and she would not stop trying. Stepping away from her mother, she dropped into a curtsy and then turned around to hurry away. Once she was in the safety of the hallway before her room, she lifted her hands and let out a blood-curdling scream. It was the pits having demonic parents.
After Juliette was done having her little fit, she had rushed upstairs to her room. That glass of ‘wine’ at breakfast hardly did anything for her thirst, and after that conversation with her mother, she really needed a pick-me-up. Storming into her room, she slammed the door shut and snapped to a trembling maid “Get me a blood pack…now…” She practically growled the last word out as she walked up to her bed. Feeling ridiculously warm, she stripped down so she was only in her black corset and garter and began to fan herself furiously. “What is taking so long..?!” Whipping around, a maid squeaked and passed her a blood pack that Juliette had kept in storage. After prowling after women, she managed to get a decent stock of blood for…times like this.
Snatching it out of her hands, she began to feed furiously. Blood dripped down her mouth as she tilted her head back. Her hair was long enough to brush her backside, her arse in rather good shape. Throwing away the empty pack, she snarled as she was entering a blood rage. “If you don’t get me more blood…and fresh…I will take it from your throat…” The maid began to burst into tears and fled the room, looking for someone to satisfy her distressed mistress.
In the quarters of the Servants, a loud stomp of a foot could be heard. If one followed the sound, they’d come to a closed off area where the Servants were allowed SOME form of privacy. Though it was only blocked by a curtain they had to hang themselves, which often killed the mood if you catch the drift and point of this area. In this enclosed place, edward was leaning back in the bed, resting against his elbows, his head back and eyes closed with his mouth gapping and a small smile curling onto his lips. His breathing was heavy, and when one moved closer, they’d see why.
One of the Servant girls was on her knees before. Her face in his crotch and mouth over his cock, stroking and sucking with expert ability. Edward had his hand on her head, and was guiding it as to fit his own personal pleasure points. However, just as he forced her head all the way down, bringing her nose to his waist and forcing her to gag, the servant came in abruptly and spoke. “Edward…” His eyes remained close, and his hand held the girl’s head to his crotch, allowing her to catch his breath and continue working her magic, yet he did speak…almost stutteringly. “WHAT?”
The Servant jumped slightly, but shook it off and spoke. “The Lady, Juliette, she calls for he-” Without a second thought or even allowing a single second to pass, Edward forced the girl from him, dressed, and hurriedly walked in the direction of his beloved Juliette’s beck and call.
It hadn’t taken him long to reach her door, and without wasting any time, he knocked gently, allowing all of himself to calm down from his former level of excitement. “Mistress, your Doll has arrived and is ready to serve as it so pleases you.”
Juliette stood behind a couch, her body leaning over it as she whispered in a cruel tone “Then get your arse in here…”Raising an eyebrow as the door was opened, she looked upon the face of her blood doll. She would never admit to it, but he really was drop dead gorgeous. Looking him up and down, she could smell another woman on him. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she turned away. She could never allow him to see her jealousy. Speaking in a bored tone, she waved a hand to usher him further into the room “I don’t like to be kept waiting…” Swiveling around gracefully, she smiled coldly and crossed her arms. Her breasts were pushed up more, and the locket that bound her to him hung around her neck and dipped into her cleavage. “Do I want to know what you were doing? Isn’t it bad enough I’ve been saddled with you?” Glancing at a maid, she snapped “Start a fresh bath. I won’t feed off of him when he smells like that.” Turning to face Edward once more, she pursed her lips. “Undress me, and then undress yourself. You will cleanse me and as well as yourself of that harlot. You are my meal, after all.” Spinning around, she picked her long tresses up so he could unhook her corset, her slender shoulders revealing a tattoo of black wings between them as well as a rose on her lower back. Glancing over her shoulder, she raised an eyebrow coyly “Want to get a move on?” Juliette spoke sharply to Edward, but not out of true hate. She could never express how grateful she was for him saving her life. She was a Roxburg after all and would never allow her life to be in the hands of a blood doll. Still, he was handsome and loyal and the only man who showed her true decency. The demon tried hard to be somewhat polite to him, but feared if she were too nice, she would give him her heart. Edward must never know of her dark deeds, or Juliette feared he would never love her again.
Edward entered as he was told, a charming smile upon his lips and he shut the door behind him. embracing her form in his sight, he narrowed his eyes and bit his lower lips in a seductive and very sexual manner. “And why would I ever wish to keep YOU waiting, my dearest Juliette. My bond is to you like the stars and the moon. It is inseperable, and forever, leaving me wanting more each time.” He bowed his head to her. “Please, accept my deepest condolences.”
“Do I want to know what you were doing? Isn’t it bad enough I’ve been saddled with you?” though her tone seemed harsh, Edward was no fool, and knew she cared for him more than she put off. It was in the way she acted, spoke, and looked at him…when, of course, he hadn’t just had sex with someone else. He loved her to bits, but a man has needs. He simply nodded his head like a good Blood Doll, and moved as was commanded.
As the maid drew their bath, he moved to her back. He lowered his lips close to the flash of her neck as he pulled her hair over her shoulder as to allow easier access. His warm breath wrapped around and caressed her skin tenderly. His finger tips lifted to her shoulders, and softly ran down to the corset on her back, loosening the knots tied one by one, slowly, as he moved his lips to the other side of her neck, his breath touching her yet again. Once finished, her corset opened to reveal her bare flesh, and Edward brought a finger to her spine crease, running it along the line of bone gently. His other hand gently pulled the corset from her body, and held it out for the maid, who had finished with the bath waters, to take and place where it belonged. Turning her by softly pulling on her shoulder, his eyes met hers in a lustful passion that only the love for a woman in the soul of a man could hold. His hands came to her long, lush, gorgeous hair, one of his favorite features of her form. As he held his eyes in hers in a seductive grin, he undid the front laces of her dress. Pulling them slowly as to loosen them correctly, and then allowed the thick and large piece of cloth to fall from her body. However, his eyes never left hers, except for a moment to glance at the pendant around her neck that bound him to her, in case the love he held for her was not strong enough. Taking it within his hand, he kissed it gently, and left her presence. Removing the loose piece of cloth he wore as a shirt and the classic black pants that fit to his long legs tightly, he turned to face her once more. His well accented body glistened with a light sweat that was the trademark of a mere servant or blood doll, since they were not kept cool and refreshed. Then his eyes fell to her own body. Slowly, the fell from her neck to the ample breasts upon her chest. From there, they found her slim and accented stomach, which almost excited him as much as her breasts. Then they fell to the real prize of her crotch. that was what got him up, and excited beyond all measure. Approaching her, his cock bouncing as he walked, he bowed his head and held his hand to the bath. “After you, Mistress.”