She always called me Jaguar.
It made sense, since it was my second form. It was also appropriate that she chose the name, since she's the one who made me aware of my shapeshifter heritage.
What bothered me were the other names she called me: Pet, slave, mine… And that's just to name a few.
I belonged to her, completely and totally.
I was her favorite bleeder. She told me once that the blood of shapeshifters not only tasted better, but was stronger and more potent than human blood because of the magic in it.
She would call me to her, and I would enter the room to see her lying on her velvet sheets. I wasn't allowed on those sheets, and she would hurt me if I so much as touched them. Instead, I would kneel in front of her, offering my neck should she want it, but listening carefully in case she had other intentions.
Sometimes, she would take me in her arms and bite me. It never hurt. In fact, it felt nice. Vampires had a way of playing with people's minds to erase the pain, so all I felt was the closeness to my mistress, and her satisfaction as her emotions leaked through a bit into my own mind.
Sometimes, she would want a backrub, which was the only time I could go onto her bed, onto the perfect velvet sheets. Never without permission, though. Even if it was her orders, I still had to ask permission before touching those sheets.
This was my life, catering to her every desire. I lived only for her.
And then I died for her. But she wouldn't let me die in peace. She made me like her. She gave me her blood, making me immortal. I was free, now. Vampires were all free-blood, so she could no longer hold any claim on me. For the first time in years, I was free.
I thought it was a blessing, but I soon realized that I was wrong. This was just another way for her to toy with me. Because now, I had no direction. I didn't know how to function without receiving orders. I was free, but I was still hers.
Centuries later, I thought I had learned to be free. I thought I was no longer under her influence. So long as I didn't see her, I would still be free.
But still, I would never touch velvet sheets.