EARLY CHRISTMAS?!

EARLY CHRISTMAS?!
1. I leisurely put on my shear negligee and loosely tied my black satin robe as I looked out the window. It was mid morning and bright sunlight filtered through the high floor to ceiling windows. They were open a small amount despite it being one of the colder months. A gentle, refreshing breeze ruffled the burgundy velvet curtains that were tied off the side of one window. My small, pale feet made a gentle slapping rhythm on the dark red mahogany floor as I made my way to the center of the room. Directly in front of the large, wrought iron fire place, where the fire flames loudly crackled, warming my skin. My eyes shifted from the fire to a very large out season red box done up with a large gold bow. With nimble black painted fingers I slowly undid one side of the bow. With my fingers mere inches away the box suddenly shook violently, then just as suddenly stopped. Without pausing I continued to slowly untie the other side of the larger than life bow the gold ribbon fell to the floor with a gentle swish. Using both hands I firmly removed the glossy, red lid and tossed it to the side. The lid landed on the sunlit mahogany floor with a dull thud. Gracefully I began pushing the light weight, white, shiny foam chips to one side of the cardboard box. After several handfuls my left hand gently grazed over something hot, damp and smooth that began thrashing wildly as soon as I touched it. White foam chips began flying in every direction as the sides of the cardboard box began to crack under force of being hit so violently, I could hear the muffled screaming of someone who was securely gagged. Dropping both hands into the violent shaking mass of white chips my fingers carefully felt out their surroundings after much searching they finally came in contact with what I felt were two warm, muscular shoulders. Griping the shoulders tightly I swiftly pulled them towards me and upright with seemingly no effort on my part. Despite that fact that I was only five foot nothing I was very well built and had board muscular shoulders and arms. Wide shapely hips, toned thighs, claves and some say the perfect roundish bouncy ass. I ought to be perfect shape as my job as a first order Necromancer keeps me extremely active always running up and down stairs trying to catch the dearly departed spirits before they vanish into a wall or down a drain. Not to mention the effort I expel helping them cross over to their rightful places.
2. On very rare occasions I sometimes come in contact with a particularly strong, vengeful sprit that tries to take over my body by forcing out my soul and using my body like puppet. A very slow and torturous way to die. At first only a strong, bronze muscular shoulders and torso were visibly freed from the sea of white foam. Then came the neck and finally the face flushed red with anger, violet-blue eyes glistened wet with tears not yet shed. He sat upright, anger like the flames in the nearby fire place, glowed in the depths of his never wavering gaze that managed to maintain his dignity and defiance despite his submissive position. Studying his flushed, tanned, face I gently brushed some stray foam chips from his messy, uneven, dark mauve, hair. I lightly brushed my black thumb over his wide, tanned bottom lip. I took a moment to gaze at my new slave his dark mauve hair and violet-blue eyes were in stark contrast to his golden brown skin that glistened with sweat and quivered with his every panicked breath. After studying his impressive nude form I quickly and yet gracefully rose from kneeling position beside the large box. Swiftly crossing the sunlight mahogany room, into an equally large dark indigo tiled covered bathroom with a black claw footed tub and decorated with shiny brass fittings. I wet a fluffy face cloth with hot water and more slowly moved back towards the shiny, red box. The box was once again shaking fiercely this time foam chips were soaring in every direction all over my clean bedroom. In the center of this chaos was a writhing, bronze form with his strong muscular arms bound behind his back by handcuffs that were locked for good measure. His lips were moving frantically around a smooth red ball gag that was securely locked in place around the back of his head. Drool was spewing out the sides of gag as he tried to trying scream or talk. I couldn't be sure. Standing tall I straightened, my lace and satin covered form, to my full height. Very calmly I raised my voice in a deep commanding tone and clearly yelled.

"CEASE all movement this minute!"

The male figure stopped all movement immediately as if struck by lightning. His hair despite being spiky and short on his left hand side was very long and straight on his right hand side going all way down to his golden, muscular ass. The right side of his very expressive face, was covered in a thick curtain of dark mauve hair. His head and upper torso were stretched taut at an awkward left angle. His head falling off the

3. shoulder as his body shook with deep, guttural pants. His body uselessly quivering in the after math of its struggles of trying to break free from its restraints at the wrists and ankles. He tired to catch his breath as he watched me make way soundlessly over to the dishevelled box and equally dishevelled male person. Once again I knelt down beside side the red box and cautiously reached out my left hand gently pushing the deflated, limp wave of mauve hair out of his startling violet-blue left eye. As before he met my gaze unflinchingly in anger and defiance. Yet he stayed still as I had commanded just moments before. I smiled gently at the boy before me. She was right, I did like him and that in and of itself was a surprise. I liked that he had spirit, fight, a back bone! Blind submission was boring, no challenge, no excitement. I loved a challenge, especially one of the male nature. The end result of having a sub/slave willingly submit to me was the most satisfying reward of all. My Belief has always been to have only a willing submissive, pet, or slave. It would be no challenge what so ever to make some one submit out of fear or pain, not to mention they could easily turn on you if made to submit. When given the choice to freely submit themselves they will grow to love and defend you, instead of hate and despise you. The majority of the Weorden community is oblivious to this simple fact and continues to abuse their greater strengths on persons weaker then themselves. I continued stroking the side of his face long after the mass of offending of hair had been removed. My black painted fingers and white skin, a huge contrast to the smooth bronze planes of his youthful face. I continued stroking it as I watched the rest of his body relax under my touch. His eyes still stubbornly defiant.


" I'm going to remove the gag now, but you are not speak, understand?"

He nodded his head once and watched as my hands reached up behind his head, my ample cleavage, hovering just before his gagged mouth and uncovered nose. I could feel his hot breath grace my skin and ruffle my satin clothing. As I meticulously unlocked and unhooked the red ball gag placed securely around the back of his head. I spoke once again.

" If you do speak before I say; you will be gagged once again and shut back within this box,"

" Am I clear?"
4. He nodded only once as I gently removed the red gag from his mouth with my forefinger and thumb. His pale, tan lips and tongue were dry as the ball finally loosened free with slightly wet popping sound. Not unlike someone loudly smacking their lips together. Once his mouth was completely freed he flexed his jaw, opening and closing his lips several times. Moving his jaw from side to side and licking his lips repeatedly. His face held the same expression as a wet cat who has just been fluffed with a towel and then blow dried. Needless to say he was totally pissed off. Wordlessly I reached up with my left hand once again and wiped his face with the cooling facecloth. Erasing the evidence of his angry tears. His eyes darted about the room, watching everything with suspicious confusion and anger, fear as well as apprehension.

"No one will harm you here, you are safe with me."

" Surely your previous owner told you, you were being sold?"

I inquired while continuing to wipe down his strong tan skin with the now room temperature facecloth. My hand traveling aimlessly down his well toned, bronze torso as I watched my new slaves' face rapidly changing expressions. He shook his head no once again as my hand stopped briefly at the base of his ribcage his eyes and face unexpectedly blazed with anger, hurt, fear, and disgust He suddenly spit in my face and flung his tied up form backwards, using all his strength the large red, shinny box tipped over as he began uselessly trying to wriggle his bound feet and ankles free, in a vain attempt to move forward. Swiftly I rose to my feet, anger and confusion making my movements jerky and uncoordinated. No sooner was on my feet when I felt myself falling toward the unforgiving hardwood floor in a heap of black satin and long, black floor length hair. I fell to the floor unceremoniously with a huge dull thud that echoed though out my large sparsely furnished bedroom. I lay on the floor face down cursing all humans and my stupidity at excepting the reasonability for a disobedient one, even if he was a gift . When I had heard not even a week ago throughout the Weorden community that there was a human slave that disobeyed a very well know sadistic, vampire lord and lived to tell the astonishing tale. I just had to see and meet this human slave for myself. Little did I know that when I first met the idiot Vampire lord he would be handing me the humans ownership papers and telling me he would have the retched thing sent to me in the morning. To
5. say I was totally shocked was an understatement but, if even half the stories were true I couldn't let anyone human or supernatural stay with that pathetic excuse for a vampire lord. Rumors had it that he loved this new fetish invented by the Weorden community called Break Play. Yes, I am afraid it is just as it sounds, It's where people or supernatural beings in this case break bones as a form of erotic play. Scary and painful yes, but some of the less breakable Weorden races such as the Reptilians, Merfolk, Necromancers, Werewolves, Vampires were very into this new fetish because it gave them an even bigger rush. The theory behind said Break Play is when your are as old as dirt and virtually unbreakable you need to spice things up a bit or so they say. I myself cringe at the very prospect. Never the less each to their own I always say with the willing anyway. So here I lay face down on my bedroom floor as these thoughts swirl around my brain. I try remembering the idiot lords name but I can't no matter how hard I try. Shrugging it off I gingerly rise to my hands and knees, slowly shuffling towards my bed on shaky knees and with great effort I stand up using the bed for support. I reach with my left hand for my silver and black cane. Once fully upright with my cane firmly in my left hand I contemplate my options. On the one hand I am furious that some strange human had the gull and blatant disrespect to spit in my face, on the other hand I am privately proud that he stood up to me. Still I couldn't let the human off scot free, his actions, no matter the reason or previous owner/master. Were never acceptable, spitting in my face was totally unjustified and had I been like other Weorden races in my community this action would be punishable by slow torture and eventual death. Still too angry with him to be objective about in his punishment I slowly made my way to the en suite dark, indigo bathroom and firmly slammed the door shut, clicking the lock in place. Forty five minutes later I opened the bathroom door a cloud of steam billowing about me as I made my way to the matching mahogany wardrobe in the left hand corner of my bedroom next to the gold and red king size bed. I opened the wardrobe swiftly and shed my silk robe exposing my pale scared form to the my newly acquired slave, still bound naked on the floor. My ink black floor length hair was neatly combed and parted on either side of my front half leaving my scared back for all to see. I may be part of the Weorden races but unscarred and perfect, I was not, Being one of the Weorden is not as beneficial as the humans would have you believe. Especially in my case I am and was what we call a Necromancer of the first order, a very rare and painful being to be despite the marginal perks. Most humans know nothing of my race we are very
6. obscurer even in the Weorden community as appose to the Vampires, Witches and Werewolves who have been very popular among the humans. These popular races only make up a fraction of the beings in the Weorden community. Very little is known about Necromancers because we are the rarest race in the whole community, there are only eleven natural born Necromancers in existence. Many Necromancers are made through magic, blood magic and alchemy. This practice is not accepted among the Weorden and has been brought before order of all the races to be debated thoroughly. Many Weorden are hoping the practices of made Necromancers will become illegal and punishable by death.
These thoughts absently wandered around my mind as I slipped on a pair of baggy, black, leather pant and a sleeveless leather top with a plunging V neck. I stepped into my red swayed knee length boots lacing them tightly. For a change I left my black slightly wavy hair down and grabbed the lone left velvet off the wooden door and turned to face the fireplace. Focusing on the red, white and tanned mess sprawled on my otherwise clean, mahogany floor. Slowly I walked towards him letting my footsteps echo in the otherwise quiet room. As I got within a foot of the human his breathing began to quicken into small gasping pants but otherwise he remained still. With the tip of my platform boot I roughly flipped him onto his back, from his side the position in which he fell. I firmly grind his arms bound behind his back into the floor. My new slave winced but said nothing, his jaw opening and closing multiple times. I met his eyes continuing to push down even harder on his chest with toe of my red swayed boot.
"If you ever disrespect me in such a manner ever again , I will make long for the sweet days of just pain with your previous master."

"Am I in any way unclear?"

I asked as the metal poisonous spike released from the heel of my boot resting firmly on his bare chest. His eyes widened a fraction and he nods very enthusiastically.

"Good"

I replied as I removed my boot from his chest, no blood had been drawn, only a faint red mark remained.

7. "Now let's get you out of these restraints you must be stiff."

I quickly grabbed a short knife from the top of my boot and swiftly cut the buckled restraints. No, I didn't need to cut them off but I hated using someone's old pair of bindings bad energy transfers and such. Once that was done I stood up once again
and threw remains of the restraints behind me. Locking my eyes with his once more I spoke quietly but clearly.

" You may leave now if you wish, no one will stop you."

A look of shock and disbelief crossed his face as he sprung to his feet his limp deep mauve hair covering his left eye as he reached his full height of 6'3". Still shocked, he stared down at my very short 5' nothing, stocky frame. His head swung swiftly from me to the open bedroom door and back again several times.

" There is a fresh set of cloths, some food and your ownership papers waiting for you at the main entrance, no one will stop you."

My words caused him to stop his frantic head turning as he studied my face closely for several minutes. We stood facing each other for several minutes perhaps even an hour neither of us moving our eyes locked, unblinking. These minutes ticked by in an exaggerated slowness as I held my breath waiting for this, beautiful defiant, human to make his choice. Even though we had never spoken I wanted and needed him. I needed his defiance, his anger , his passion, his resistance. I needed and craved someone with his strength and passion I have had many slaves, human and supernatural, alike. None of them had his resolve, resistance and sense of self to me these are qualities I need and desire in my slaves. To me it is of the utmost importance that my slaves know themselves what they, desire, fear, crave, hate, need and want. All the slaves before him were weak, simpering, and spineless these qualities will always make me feel sick to my stomach. I was drawn out of my thoughts by sudden movement. I looked up at him and watched as he nodded his head once, dropped to his knees, wrapped both his arms around my left leather calf. Bow his head and rest his face on the edge of my knee, waiting. I leaned my head back closed my eyes and smiled. My right hand resting atop his bent head. No more actions or words were need his action of bowing before me was enough. He now willingly belonged to me.