Author's Note: This is CryBloodTears- I've just changed my name. I started this story when I was twelve- and then, I aged a year. Heh. I'm fixing things I didn't like, and hoping that it all pleases you a little more- condensing the chapters, is my main focus at the moment, and adding somethings that should be there. Please enjoy, and review to give me a little feedback. QUICK updates to come, I promise on all the flowers in the world.
Enjoy, dear friends.
Chapter One
When you had eternity at your disposal, time seemed different. A day for others seemed like a moment to you. A year? Merely a day. You found that you didn't grow bored really, but that thoughts you had now had been thought before. Memories were relived the way humans watched movies- but you had your memories at your disposal.
The ingenious creation of Pleasure Slaves happened so long ago that no one really remembered the exact date. Of course, it happened much simpler than that.
Once upon a time, a vampire had fallen in love with a human. He loved her immensely, and was reluctant to turn her. He watched her grow older by the day, and the older he grew, the more frustrated he became. He had never been able to indulge physically with her. Kissing had been hard, in the beginning. He had never even kissed her with an open mouth.
Watching her one day, he grew so angry, that he did exactly what his tortured mind had begged him to do for years, expand their boundaries, and kiss her.
Venom was transferred from his mouth, into hers. Her organs absorbed it, and it reproduced quickly- but had restrictions. He watched as she began to change- not in the normal way vampires usually did. Her heart beat as strongly as it always had, and her skin remained flushed with blood. But she grew pale, and her eyes grew darker, and she turned into a beautiful creature.
He found that her aging process slowed, and eventually stopped. She was eternally living, in the full sense of the word. Not like he lacked his strength, his speed, and the need for blood. But she never grew sick.
The longer they both lived, the unhappier they both grew with each other. The novelty of their relationship had slowly worn away, until they found that they hated the sight of each other.
A simple solution, in his mind, was simply to kill her.
And he did.
Or, he tried. He attempted to drain her blood. But he found she was like a never ending fountain.
And Pleasure Slaves were born. Creatures who never grew sick, never needed blood, and could never die- but had a limitless amount of blood.
That was why I, Bella Swan, was here. I'd been told the story of how Pleasure Slaves were created many times, and I found it grew more and more macabre each time. I hoped that relationships weren't really like that, in the sense that when the novelty wore off, so did the affection, but I feared I would never find out. The only people I was surrounded with were other slaves like myself, and insane vampires.
But I found that I adapted to the situation well. I made friends with other slaves. Alice, Rosalie, and Esme had similar situations to mine, we were all taken directly from our homes by beautiful strangers, never to see or hear from our families again. We were all from American, unlike some of the exotic other slaves, but we found quickly that with our pale skin, we were exotic as well.
It was cruel, whenever we were selected by a different master. We satisfied their sexual needs, and gave them food in the process. Both things were painful, in different ways.
"Bella, my God, if you don't eat that pancake right now, I swear I'll take it and lick your plate clean myself."
I blinked back to reality.
"Take it- I don't understand how you can eat that much, Alice."
Alice rolled her brown eyes, stabbing the pancake with her fork, and gingerly moving it to her own porcelin plate.
"It's an easy concept Bella, eating. You open your mouth- like so-"
I covered my eyes with my hands, laughing. I really didn't need a front row view of her half chewed breakfast.
"Is Bella playing peek-a-boo?" I heard Esme's voice come from no where, and quickly uncovered my eyes sheepishly, a horrible blush staining my cheeks. She placed a motherly kiss on my hot cheek, before sitting down across from me, next to Alice.
"All by herself? It sounds like something only Bella could do," Rosalie's chimed in, and she took a seat next to me, reaching for a yellow apple. Her sleeve pulled up as she did, and I glimpsed a bloody half moon on her wrist, which I promptly passed off as nothing out of the ordinary.
It wasn't uncommon, to have wounds after satisfying a vampire master.
I ignored her remark, and chose to take a sip of my orange juice, and to study her face and body language in the process. Rosalie had been raped before being taken to Italy, and it had traumatized her. She struggled most emotionally after having sex with her masters.
Sure enough, I noticed she was dressed more carefully. Make-up she didn't need had probably been carefully applied, and her jewelry matched her clothing perfectly.
Looking good was her way of distracting herself.
"-just ignore her. She's been acting like that all day, spacing out. Her eyes look all deep. Thinking deep thoughts taxes her brain."
"Does not," I mumbled, standing from the table. I was actually looking at who had just entered the room. It was Derrick, my own current master. He was impatient, good looking, cruel, and doting all at the same time. He flashed me a smile from across the room, and motioned me to follow him out of the room.
I could see his eyes were dark with hunger.
"I'll see you all later," I said.
Alice turned in her seat, scoping out the room with quick eyes, spotting Derrick immediately.
"Be safe," she muttered to me. I nodded- it was all we could try to do. Minimize the damage.
I walked across the room that served as the salves own breakfast/lunch/dinner room. The other fifty or so slaves didn't take any notice of my presence.
I smiled as best as I could at Derrick, and hooked my arms through his gently. It was cold, even through the layers that they were both wearing.
We didn't need to speak. Derrick had been staying with the Volturi for many days, offering strategy tips on the gaurds' little missions. We had established a routine.
We walked to a secluded room (the ancient castle was full of them), and he unhooked his arm from mine, running his cold fingers along my arm towards my wrist, where he pulled up the sleeve, to my elbow.
My skin was marred with dozens of scars, some deeper than others, where vampires had cut open her flesh to lick the blood away from the inner flesh and bone.
He kissed my wrist briefly, a more intimate gesture than I was use to, before sinking pearly teeth into my skin. He sucked in deeply, and I could almost feel my blood being coaxed away from my heart and towards my wrist. My arteries constricted painfully, crying out for the lost blood. I didn't grow lightheaded.
After a while, he had fed fully, and let go of my wrist, wiping a hand across his mouth. He smiled, revealing bloody teeth, and placed a brutal kiss on my lips. I tasted my own blood- which was mostly similar to salt and water than anything else.
"Aro is expecting guests," he said, his voice crystal, and beautiful in a sinister way. "You aren't to get picked, Isabella, do you understand? I would hate to have to share you with another vampire."
"That's up to the guests," I sang out daringly, hoping to taunt him a little. It wasn't as if I could die. A little break in the monotony of my life was exciting.
He glowered.
"You would be very stupid to get picked."
"Where'd this dark mood come from, Derrick?" she asked, pushing the boundaries. She was required to call her master, Master.
His hand encircled her neck in a bruising grip, fingers digging into her flesh. His teeth were barred, and he looked so demonic that it scared her for a moment.
I can't die, she remembered. I can't die, so there's nothing to be afraid of. But the pain.
He fed from her again, groaning in pleasure as her warm blood flowed down his needy throat. His hips surged against hers, and she could feel he was aroused. Tears pricked her eyes, and fell from the corners, as she clawed at his fingers, desperate for breath.
Eventually, she lost consciousness, and when she would awake again, slumped upon the floor of the room, with an aching neck and throbbing wrist, she would remember Derrick's warning.
You would be very stupid to get picked.