Stroke of Midnight (Closed)

Even in her weakened state, for hours, Candace's arms tugged at the ropes that bound her wrists. She even tried to "burn" the rope away by constantly rubbing them up against the wall. But even that did not work. All she could do is sit in an uncomfortable position. Her arms were slowly tiring out after staying in the same place for so long. Never before had she felt this exhausted in a short amount of time. Was it the fucking? Perhaps. But at the same time, this is the first in a very long time that she felt so low on energy.

Candace was not given anything to eat or drink. The closest she had come to drinking was her own saliva thanks to the ball gag. But even then, remnants of Roland's seed lingered on the base of her tongue.

By the time Roland decided to show himself, Candace was in a bit of a daze, still tired and exhausted. She was hungry, thirsty, and to be trivial, in need of a shower.
 
With him Roland carried a plate and a glass which he placed on the shelf above her before clicking the dangling bulb on. The plate had a simple baloney and cheese sandwich and an apple. The glass was filled with maybe twelve ounces of water. Apples weren’t really in season and together with the sandwich he knew it made a meager meal, but that was the point. He would keep her weak until he had her so twisted up she couldn’t say no to him.

Roland draped himself on Candace’s shoulder and twirled her hair around his finger. “I want to let you out,” he told her as if she was the one preventing him, “but you’ll need to do as I ask you. Its all very simple. First, I’m going to take out this gag. I think we both know what will make me put it right back in and leave my toy in her closet.”

He wasn’t looking for confirmation or agreement or acceptance yet. Roland just didn’t want her to rail against him or she would have a hard couple of days ahead of her. Carefully he undid the straps and the ball gag was removed. He stood back in the doorway and pulled a white cloth off one of the shelves to start cleaning the ball gag.
 
Candace's eyes flickered, blindsided by the sudden illumination of the light bulb. Twelve hours, she predicted, that she was in the closet that the first sign of light hurt her eyes temporarily. Even with the removal of the ball gag, Candace was too exhausted to make a snarky response at his expense. Despite the exhaustion, she was still determined to not let Roland get the best of her.

She had a clear idea of what he was expecting from her: Total submission.

Just have to build his trust enough, she thought. Once she's done that, she can make a clean escape the minute he lets her out. For now, she dreaded the thought of what he was going to put her through next.

Candace was unaware of the simple sandwich, apple, or the water he brought for her. Not once since he had arrived had she look up at him but stared more at his shoes.
 
She refused to look at him. He wasn’t sure if it was out of disdain or submission, but either way it was a step in the right direction. One thing that was unacceptable was how she looked. She was exhausted, battered, and it looked like he’d been starving her for a week instead of one simple night.

“How can I enjoy such a toy,” he mumbled to himself then he spoke up, “Candace I was going to feed you, but we have a dilemma. I try to keep all of my toys tidy and in one piece. If I let you out to let you tidy up though you might get strange ideas and then my toy wouldn’t be in one piece anymore.” Roland sounded disappointed as he spoke as if there had been others he had a similar experience with.

“You’re going to have twenty-five minutes Candace. There is a bathroom down the hall on your right. I’ve stocked it with bath soaps, shampoos, lotions, and makeup. I spared no expense. On the floor will be a pair of red panties I believe should fit you and a black long sleeved collared shirt I wear. That is your attire. If that shirt is buttoned you will spend your time alone in my toy chest until the bruises heal. If you are on time and presentable I will allow you to feed yourself, unbound. I know I may seem to expect a lot Candace, but … too bad.”

Roland began to undo the straps. He could hardly wait to play with her again tonight, but some things had to come before play. “I won’t be letting you out again until tomorrow night, so take care to use your time wisely.”
 
An unintelligible sound moaned from the bellows of Candace's throat, almost as if she were trying to say something. It was tempting to tell Roland off with his choice of words. And whose fault was it now? If he had not left her in such disarray, then maybe she would be tidy and in one piece.

She listened to the instructions: Twenty five minutes to clean herself up and be presentable. Which, in Roland's terms, a polo shirt and a pair of panties. No pants or skirt it seems.

The moment she was released and shown the bathroom, Candace stood underneath the shower's running water. She pounded her fist on the wall in frustration. She couldn't believe she let herself go like that. No, it was just an acting for the sake of deceiving the bastard. That's all it was. But as she shampooed her hair, she couldn't help but wonder if those feelings of her wanting a blowjob from Roland were genuine.

Candace cringed. She couldn't get the taste of his cum out of her tongue.

Clean and wiped dry, Candace got in to the clothes Roland picked out for her. After fixing herself up, she looked around the bathroom for anything she could use later as a weapon. Bottles, Q-tips, toothpaste, toiletries, there wasn't anything she could pick out from the closet or around that she could hide from him. Looking in the cabinet, she did happen to come across a screwdriver tucked away in the back. A little dusty, but that didn't matter. After all , he did say that she should use her time wisely since she won't be able to come out until tomorrow night.

Opening the door slowly, Candace looked left to right to make doubly sure that the coast was clear. After a few looks of left to right to confirm, she quietly slipped out of the bathroom and to the closet she was kept in not far at all. She placed the tool somewhere that it wasn't easily seen when he would open the door. She looked herself over the mirror to fix her hair when she noticed two bite marks on her neck. Where the hell did that come from? Candace assumed that it was Roland's attempt to give her a hickey; a branding to fill his ego on how he claimed her just because of an ill-fated contract he set up with her mother.

She wasn't so sure where exactly she was supposed to meet up with Roland. Did he want to pick her up from the stairs? Should she meet up with him downstairs.

One thing she knew was for certain: He was going to regret it.
 
Roland chuckled when he heard his plaything pound on the wall as he headed downstairs. So much fire in that frail little thing, he just hoped he could put it to good use. While she got herself ready he busied himself making her meal.

The sandwich was bologna and cheese on whole wheat bread with a leaf of romaine lettuce and two slices of tomato. He sliced the sandwich across leaving it in two triangles pushed to the edge of the plate. An apple sliced in wedges was added next, laid out in a spiral in the space remaining on the plate. Roland filled a heavy piece of green stemware with ice water and set it next to her plate. The table itself and the chairs were pieces of trash, but he’d replace them with something nicer if he decided to stay in this city. If he could turn Candace into the toy he wanted, the pet if he could manage it.

He heard his quarry standing indecisively at the top of the stairs not sure where to go. “You’d better get down here,” Roland called out melodiously, “almost out of time.”

In all honesty, he hadn’t kept track, but that didn’t matter. Candace quickly descended if only to evade raising any unnecessary wrath. Roland poured himself a glass of wine, the only mortal food that didn’t taste like ash in his mouth anymore. Three candles lit the table and the room.

“Sit and eat. You’ve earned it I suppose, but in the future I’d like it if you did something nicer with your hair.” He could feel the hate rolling off of her. Such passion.
 
Candace heard his voice coming from downstairs. Like him, she didn't keep track of the time. There was not a clock that she had noticed that could tell her the time. All the windows in the house were boarded up that she couldn't tell whether it was day or night. She followed his voice all the way down to the kitchen where he set up her dinner. Candles, wine for himself, and a sandwich for her.

Sitting herself down, she took one half of the sandwich and took a bite out of it. The minute those particles of food touched her tongue, Candace realized that she was a lot hungrier than she thought. She couldn't quite figure out if it had anything to do with the fact that she had been in the closet for a long time or from the slight woozy feeling she felt after what Roland did to her hours ago.

"...but in the future I’d like it if you did something nicer with your hair.

Candace glared at him. Twenty five minutes to make herself presentable was difficult, especially if she wanted to smell nice and fresh from the shower. She didn't recall seeing a blow dryer when she was in the bathroom or she did not notice it.

"You are just romantic, aren't you?" She said with a subtle hint of sarcasm.

Candace ate one of the apple wedges, still keeping her eyes on him. She knew she had to be careful on how she would behave for the next several days, weeks even. If she could rope him in to some sort of trust, sure enough he'll let her out of the cage.

"Never really been in a candlelit dinner before."
 
“It’s a pity. You probably would have enjoyed it more before I took for,” he told her as if empathizing, “for the obvious reasons.”

The vampire smirked and took another drink of the wine. “Things don’t really have to be bad for you,” he said as if thinking out loud. “I’ll do horrible things to you granted, but if I can make you what I bartered for all those years ago then you can enjoy things you never imagined.”

“Maybe I’ll even let you continue school when you’re ready.” Roland finished off the wine and let Candace finish her food. She’d need her strength, because he was going to hurt her.

The ancient man, who looked to be in his late 20s, strolled over behind his toy. He placed his hands on the back of the chair.

“Other than the things I’ll never let you have, what haunts your dreams at night? What do you need that you can’t admit to anyone else?” He loved toying with Candace. Somehow she was different than all his other playthings before. She was the best thing he’d ever bought and he’d make her last a long time. Maybe forever.
 
Any attempts that this ass made to flatter or ease her certainly did not help matters. Candace was still unamused by his take on humor. It didn't help at all when he talked as if he held that much control over her. He will allow her to continue school?

She heard a soft thud as his fingers rested on the back of her chair, inches away from the flesh of her shoulders.

When Roland asked what else haunts her at night, she muttered something along the lines of him. Another sarcasm, perhaps. If she was going to be kept imprisoned in here until she made her escape, there was no doubt he would be haunting her dreams. Still, she wasn't going to give him that satisfaction of telling him her darkest secrets.

"I could tell you, but then I would want a few things in return. A few knowledgeable tidbits. Some answers regarding my mother. Do you think you could handle that, dear?"
 
“I don’t like your tone,” Roland told his captive with the surprise of a debt collector being told he wouldn’t be paid. He was sorely tempted to throw her and the chair across the floor in a show of power, but allowing his pet to rile him so easily was out of the question.

“Still, you’re willing to play. You’re new. I can’t hold it against you that you don’t understand your place yet.” He hadn’t set any rules, but he was glad the little morsel was playing by them so far. He refilled his wine glass and set it in front of Candace.

“Do you really want to know what had her so desperate that she’d come to me? Do you want to know why she’d bargain with your life? Maybe she was just a coward.”

Roland pushed her plate aside and sat on the edge of the table very close to his plaything. His voice became a sinister whisper. “Maybe she just didn’t care. Maybe she wanted me to turn her. Make her like me and give up her own daughter to do it.” He stared with fiery eyes at the defiant little thing in front of him. If she could keep her cool and at least fake appropriate humility then he’d take her deal.”
 
The more he portrayed her mother as a coward and the possibility that she had relations with the bastard only angered Candace. Roland knew how to push her buttons enough that she was bound to set off and attack him. Still, she forced herself to hold back. Her fingers balled up, almost ready to punch Roland. But like the violent temptations, she kept her fist back.

It would be easy to call her mother and question her about what's going on. The problem was that she wasn't sure where her mother was currently staying. Before she left for college, she told Candace that she was moving but it was better to not say where. Since then, she only received two letters in the beginning of her first year without a return address. Perhaps it was in case the letters were intercepted and that she would be found.

Just keep calm if you want to get out of this alive. She could try to play in to his fantasy and mind games to keep him satisfied for the time being. But after what happened earlier in the closet, Candace was unsure how long she could last.

She watched as Roland pushed aside her plate to sit on the table in front of her. His feet were mere inches from her legs. The more he spoke of her mother, the more Candace was ready to take that wine glass of his, splash the liquid in his face before making the glass in to a weapon.

Of course, it was fantasy speaking. Roland would see to it that she would be dead if she even tried. Still, he was walking on dangerous ground with the way he was toying with her. He didn't know her mother well at all if he was going to accuse her of being a coward. Sure, they moved but her intention was to protect her own daughter from this creature, right?

Candace lowered her gaze, staring more at his feet. In this game of quid pro quo, she was certain that Roland was either going to purposely lie to her or make her lose.

"What do you know about my mother?" Unless if he was trying to paint himself as an innocent bystander, in which case she was not falling for it.
 
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Roland hopped down from his seat next to her. While plucking at such exposed wounds could be fun he preferred a little distance between them while he did it. No reason to let her try to lash out at him. Slowly, he walked away from her and didn’t turn back towards her when he spoke.

“The story of your mother was the story of your father. He drank and gambled. I know because towards his end I was there while he would do a poor job of both. I can’t begin to explain how the man made it to the games with the kinds of stakes I play for, but he managed it. Maybe if I understood I’d have an idea what your mother saw in him.” Roland sighed. If he felt sorry for anyone, ever that is, it might have been that woman.

“Even if he hadn’t lost to me then he would have lost to someone just as bad. Maybe not supernatural, but they still would have been just as bad. He swam in debt and still smiled like an idiot and dived deeper. Your mother saw it all, but she stayed just the same. It must have been love. Stupid emotion and one I’ve never quite cared for myself.”

Roland turned to his toy and smiled gently at her. “I took everything he owned and your mother tried to barter for his life. She offered to give me whatever I wanted for his life. I accepted naming you as my price. Then the fool attacked me. I freed your mother from that worthless fool right in front of her, but that doesn’t matter. She had already struck her Faustian bargain. You were already mine. As promised I allowed her the first eighteen years of your life and then I started hunting you in earnest. Your mother wasn’t cowardly, just desperate and a little foolish. She was better than most of your kind, but in the end it didn’t matter. It never does.”

The vampire pulled out one of the chairs to him and spun it around. He’d finished his tale so now it was time for him to play the audience. He sat backwards in the chair, facing her, and folded his hands neatly on its back before resting his chin on them.

“Your turn, little toy. What dark things make you tick?”
 
After Roland finished telling Candace the story of how the deal came to pass between him and her mother, the anger in her had not subsided. Not only was it the anger regarding her captor but that he had touched a nerve regarding her family problems. What's even worse, he got everything about her father correct. Although she was too young to understand at the time, her father had been addicted to gambling and alcohol. She didn't know her father too well since he was rarely home. And the times that he actually did come home, her mother would often send Candace away to relatives. Whenever Candace came back home, she would be greeted by her bandage wearing mother.

The younger years of four and five started to come back to her. All before she and her mother escaped from their Washington home.

She kept her head and gaze down, avoiding Roland's eyes at her. She was not about to give him the satisfaction of nearly breaking her down. At the same time, she knew she had to keep her end of the bargain on telling him her deepest thoughts. Her sexual fantasies.

She never hated Roland more than she did now for what he was making her do.

"I have had nightmares being experimented on. Strapped, tied, or handcuffed to a table slab. Kind of like those mad scientist movies. After I broke up with the ex-friend, I've been having nightmares of being experimented on but in a more sexual way."

She paused for a minute before adding in a slightly stern voice to make it clear. "Within reason and without the sick fetishes I've heard of what couples do to one another."

After calming herself down, she managed to continue.

"Experimented with toys, sexual positions, sometimes even mysterious drugs that would effect the person sexually. Get them on an all time high by making them feel sexually deprived even if they had been fucked not long ago. No, I wouldn't like it as much as I like you but for some reason, in those dreams I actually enjoyed it. Satisfied now?"

She didn't dare to look up at Roland after that. How can she after explaining the sick, twisted fantasy nightmare to the bastard she truly detested.
 
In two ways the ancient vampire had just gotten everything he could want. The truth told eloquently and from his perspective had just shaken Candace more than any lie ever could have. She was seething, but couldn’t do anything about it and best of all, her mother had done it to herself. Her father had done it to her. He claimed no innocence, but there were others that had sold her out and all he was doing was collecting.

The second was her sweet twisted little fantasies. His mind was already brimming with ideas how to exploit those beautifully dark thoughts of hers. Torture and ravage her. Turn her into a pathetic addict both to the drugs, having her blood taken, and himself alone.

The common factor was both gave him access to the core of who she was. Both these things let him pluck at her very being and try to warp it. She’d be begging him for more soon. She would be gladly committing atrocities trying to make the object of her obsessions happy.

Roland moved to Candace’s side and firmly took her wrist in hand. The grip was a guidance, but one that made it clear she could not ignore it, and he helped her out of her chair. She still didn’t look at him. Shame? He expected more if that’s what it was, but at least she’d played her part. He kept her wrist tight in his grip and held it above her head and then leaned in until his lips almost touched her ear.

“Those are some sick little dreams, my toy. You are just as twisted up on the inside as I hoped, but there is something worse wrong with you. You get angry at the story I tell, but truly it is yours, not mine. You share your twisted little dreams with me, but act with shame of them. You have a dark heart Candace, just like mine. I’m not letting go. I can help you embrace that darkness instead of being afraid of it though.”

Then Roland had a thought. He loved giving her false choices, many paths that all lead back to him no matter what. His free arm wrapped around her waist and held her close to him then he drew her wrist to his lips. He kissed it and then he let his fangs gently graze it.

“You will count to ten when I tell you to start. Slow and deliberate or I won’t count it. When you get to ten you can say anything to me without repercussion, and when you’ve said what you needed to say you can either ask to go back to your closet, be fed again before the night is over, and left alone … or you can ask to see the nightmarish visions you are meant for, experience the ecstasy that only what you call evil will ever be able to bring you. Start!”

Roland then bit into the flesh of her wrist. It was not be nearly as fast as if he drank from her neck, but this time she’d have to watch what he was doing to her and take the time to acknowledge how it made her feel. Even if she could resist him this time, night after night and she would belong to him eventually. Whatever happened, however she handled it, Roland was savoring her sweet crimson blood on his lips.
 
“Those are some sick little dreams, my toy. You are just as twisted up on the inside as I hoped, but there is something worse wrong with you. You get angry at the story I tell, but truly it is yours, not mine. You share your twisted little dreams with me, but act with shame of them. You have a dark heart Candace, just like mine. I’m not letting go. I can help you embrace that darkness instead of being afraid of it though.”

"I am not like you!" She said angrily. Her words have either fallen on deaf ears or Roland did not care for what Candace had to say. He continued to talk so calmly in the smooth accent that she felt her ire rising. How dare he?

She cringed as Roland grazed his fang on the bare flesh of her wrist. Trying to have some dignity in being defiant towards him, she began to count.

"One," Candace said with a sarcastic tone.

As if that was a signal, Roland proceeded to bite in to her wrist to drink in her blood. Letting out a small shriek, she could feel a small stream of her blood trickle down her arm. Continuing to count, the sarcasm and defiance in her voice slowly subdued. She struggled to not appear weak, trying to prove that she was strong enough to handle him.

But there was something about having her blood taken from him and the way he was doing it. While saw people experience with the needle, this one was more intimate, regardless of his intention. This should have been no different than being given injections or withdrawing blood. Alongside the pain, there was a strange feeling that she did not expect at all. It was similar to how one feels when riding in a roller coaster, eating desert, or perhaps having sex with someone they have long lusted for.

She felt her knees shaking when she reached six. His other hand firmly wrapped around her waist. She assumed that it was to keep her from falling. When his fingers traced along the base of her spine and teased her when it approached closer to her ass cheek, it reached another level.

"Nine."

Overwhelmed by this powerful mix of dangerous emotions, she didn't realize her painful moans resembled the sounds of what one goes through when they reach the point of orgasm or ecstasy. Her head slowly raised up to watch what he was doing. His eyes stared directly at her as he lapped up her blood. Was he watching her while he drank from her?

A part of her was still determined to fight back. To prove that he hadn't beaten her down. But another side of her, the sick twisted soul he claimed that she possessed but repressed, had never felt more alive and hungry; wanting to know how far he will push her to keep her in this state of high.

"Ten."
 
Such decadence. He loved her blood. Roland didn’t know if it was the dominance over her that made it taste so sweet to him or if the child had really been born with such savory crimson life running in her veins. It didn’t matter. The toy counted just the way he’d asked. As he watched and listened he found just what he knew he would in her. The first numbers were filled with defiance and determination. These counterproductive qualities gave way to uncertainty and fear. She ended her simple task with the desperation he knew she would.

Fangs left her flesh and were replaced with a cloth napkin from the table to stop the bleeding. He held pressure there and smiled down at the bewildered little thing. She wanted more. He would need to make some calls to acquire just what her twisted little heart needed, but in the end she would be dangling in his grip, unable to hold on to who she thought she was.

“Very good my pet. I needed that little drink,” he told her. “Now you get your treat. I promise not to do a thing to you no matter what you say. Threats. Insults. Admissions. Pleas. Anything you want. Then you can go up and be put back away or we can delve deeper into you, my little plaything.”

Roland licked a stray drop of Candace’s blood off her arm. Such sweet flesh. He waited, patient for her answer.
 
With her free hand, Candace smacked Roland as hard as she could on his face. Given the loss of blood, she didn't have much energy to make any attempt to destroy him. She was angry: Angry at him, angry at her family, and most especially at herself. She allowed herself to open up under the influence of the euphoria of her blood being drunk, thus exposing her vulnerability. Lies, betrayals, deception, and these were the words she would associate with Roland had he not told her his version of the tale.

She thought she hit Roland hard enough. When she looked up, he was clearly unaffected by her attack.

Candace sat on the edge of the table with Roland's grip still on her arm. She'll need his hold if she did not want to die from a massive amount of blood loss.

"What do you mean delve in to me? What are you going to do?" In spite of the anger she felt, there was a sense of defeat and almost the curiosity of a confused woman.
 
She was so weak right now, but still she fought. Not only was Candace weak from the loss of blood, but also in mind. The high he’d given her by taking her blood and using her as he had was putting the girl in a beautiful state of confusion. Even in such a state where she might willingly give herself up to any depraved experiments he tried on her, his playthings still struck him across the face. It was a light slap, but it was clearly all she was able to muster. Any other time, he would have been furious, but he had promised her and whether by wisdom and compulsion the vampire kept his promises.

“So blinded by stupid hate and anger. I told you the two things you could be. Did you forget? A toy, beaten and torn apart until slowly forgotten, something unremarkable. A pet, trained in the darkest pleasures for her master, always at his side.”

Roland suddenly pulled her wrist back to him and he lapped up a small bit of blood seeping out from beneath his grip.

“You have a dark dream, one that leaves you confused and aroused when you wake. What do you think the reality would do to you? So my question is, are you going back to your closet upstairs or the bed downstairs?”

Roland pulled her up and across the room to a small dresser. Laid out there was gauze, medical tape and a few other odds and ends. The vampire posted Candace’s wrist against the old wood. He took a towel and wiped off her arm as he took his hand away. Gauze was quickly added followed by medical tape. He hoped she wouldn’t resist. Whether a toy or a pet, he needed to take some care of her.
 
As Roland licked the blood off of her wrist, Candace felt her head spinning. There was something about this strange high state of mind that made her want to stay in that mind set. Dangerous, yes. Beneath her, yes. But something about it was almost like a yearning, a willingness to explore deeper in order to stay in this cloud nine.

Candace managed to catch a part of his question: Would she prefer the closet or the bed. The first thing that came to her mind on how nice a bed would be as opposed to being crammed inside the closet.

"The bed..."
 
Roland helped her to stand. She seemed in a daze and perhaps she did not understand to what she had agreed, but it didn’t matter. The age old vampire guided the young girl to the stairs that lead down into the dark. A heavy door was unbarred and a light was clicked on. He stood there beside her. He smiled.

“Candace, this room will be yours. You won’t be tied down in here while I am away. I know it is hard to get used to having freedoms so small, but I think you will find it better than the chair upstairs.”

The room is about the size of the living room. Against one wall is a bed with simple metal frame and simple white sheets on a comfortable mattress. At four points on that simple metal frame chains are solidly attached. They end in padded leather cuffs that if applied to his pet would allow almost no room for her to move, but shouldn’t hurt her if she fought.

At the other side of the room is a toilet sink and shower. There is no curtain on the shower and in fact nowhere in the room is there anywhere to hide or have privacy. The medicine cabinet at the sink has a few basic items for hygiene, but is otherwise bare. In the center of the room is a clean steel table with Velcro straps meant to go across it, dangling undone all along one side. That is all there is to the room. Otherwise it is empty and feels almost sterile.

“You can only stay here if you can behave Candace. The closet is the only other place you can live right now. You can be a pet or a toy. From the very start that choice has always been yours. I hope you can learn to live this way instead of dying inside while your pulse beats on.”

Roland’s words were gentle as if she was somehow forcing all of this to happen and he was only an innocent bystander somehow. He looked down at her. Would her rebellious nature betray her and force her back upstairs or could the girl learn a little of obedience tonight?
 
The lack of privacy. Not even a makeshift wall or curtain barrier to give Candace a moment to herself in the shower. While the closet was small and littered with its own devices, this place made for much better room but left her more exposed and vulnerable. The metal slab in the middle of the room did not make things any better for her.

She could find something useful in here that could help with her escape, right? Candace wasn't sure.

"Not even a curtain or wall for the bathroom area?"
 
“Of course not,” Roland responded, but whether she realized it or not, he wasn’t answering the girl’s question. Instead, the vampire was considering his disappointment with her lack of gratitude. He had laid before her the chance to escape the half life of being food and toy to him and it still wasn’t enough for her.

In a blur of motion, Roland’s hand wrapped around Candace’s throat. The vampire used his new grip to carry her and press her against the wall. Rage filled his eyes and his fangs came out. The creature of the night snarled at her and was nearly ready to simply snap her neck and be done with her. Then, just as quickly as he began he tossed her to the floor, releasing her.

With his back to her, Roland listened as she fought to regain her breath. The stupid girl was likely confused, unable to imagine why he would hurt her for being such an ungrateful little whelp. He seethed, imagining ways to torture her to death and listening to the doll’s last screams in his head. Finally though he calmed himself. He had waited a very long time for her and when he had found Candace she had that glitter of potential he had hoped for. If he could be patient enough to chip away the rest, inside this girl was just the thing he wanted.

The dead man’s words came cold from his lips, “If I let you have this place, who would you need privacy from when I’m not here. With me, you must know I would have you otherwise occupied, so who are you hiding from when you’re alone, Candace?”
 
As Roland tossed her like a rag doll, Candace landed hard on her shoulder. Candace groaned, her fingers holding on to where her shoulder hit. Her breathing was slightly ragged from his earlier hold. She rolled on her back and stared up at the ceiling. She didn't answer his question about why she would need the privacy.

"You mean...I don't need..." She stammered at her words when Roland appeared to be more menacing.
 
Somewhere that night between addiction to the feeling of being fed on and the hope of a normal life fading away, Candace had found obedience. Three weeks had passed and things were going swimmingly.

There were times she had failed him in small ways and received punishment. As time wound on Roland instituted little arbitrary rules just for this reason. “Sir” was to be added after his name any time she spoke it, though he didn’t care if it was sweetly or with bitter resentment. She was given the barest of supplies to clean her room and it was to be kept that way. There was a special way to fold her napkin when she finished a meal and it was her job to clean his shoes before he would enter her room. She hadn’t done a very good job the first time and that had warranted a burn from a hot lighter. The scar still shown bright on her forearm. Roland was so proud.

Candace hadn’t earned a trip upstairs again though he had threatened her with putting her back in the closet once or twice. What she had earned though were some small things to make her stay more comfortable. She had five shirts and sets of panties that matched them, detergent so she could wash them in the sink, a clear shower curtain to keep water off her floor, some basic bath supplies including a mildly expensive lilac shampoo and conditioner, and a thin blanket for her bed.

Tonight, her gift would be different. Instead of something to help her be comfortable or keep his rules it was simply for her pleasure. A book she had requested was wrapped in red tissue paper was held in one hand and a doctor’s bag in the other as the vampire descended the stairs. When she had first learned her place Roland had called an old friend of his, a man capable of some terrible things for a human. Candace had given Roland a glimpse of some of her darker needs. He intended to fulfill them.

The vampire knocked twice sharply on the door before undoing the locks and popping open the door.

“I’m home!”
 
The damn shoes are shiny and polished. The damn shoes are shiny and polished.

Ever since Roland noticed a small white smudge on the heel of his precious shoe, it gave him a reason to burn Candace's arm with a lighter. The scars slowly healed and the pain slowly diminished but it was still there. Sitting on the floor and putting the finishing touches on her task, she was more than tempted to do unpleasant things to the footwear as payback.

She sat on the floor, leaning up against the bed. She still hated him for what he was putting her through. The fact that he was finally providing the basic necesities didn't change her animosity towards him.

But there was another side of her that she could not control. The part of her that she hated feeling.

Roland fed off of her at least once every other day. In the beginning, it was painful for her to handle his sharp fangs puncturing in to her flesh. But as he continued to do it, there was a certain high she got from it. Perhaps it was because he was drinking in her blood? It could be it. But whenever he gave her the other deeper kiss, an insatiable lust built up inside of her.

Candace is not willing to show that side of her to Roland. She would rather be dead than have him see that side of her. As time wore on, she often struggled to lock away those feelings. But the thoughts of him feeding off of her in such an erotic manner with one hand slowly running down her body, his other holding her neck and him giving her kisses before burying his head on her neck made her want to get off on that thought when the door knocked and...

“I’m home!”

Flustered, Candace tried to pull herself together before Roland could enter. She could not make herself "presentable" in time by the time he approached her. She was still sitting on the floor with her legs rather more open and spread out as opposed to having it closed (as against Roland's little rule but she did it often enough to defy him) and the outline of her nipples poking at her shirt.

"Welcome home." She greeted him in a slight bitter tone. Just a Roland was ready to smack her for not doing it properly, Candace added, "Sir."
 
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