"So, you're telling me that you can collect dead humans from the far plane and bring them to me?" The Lord asked, covered by shadows, aside from his piercing eyes as the cocktail that his hand rested near on his throne's arm. "This is a good discovery, and I'm very proud of you."
"Thank you my lord. Would you like it to be experimented?" His favorite worker offered.
"Yes- What will you bring me?" The Lord asked and the maid bowed.
"I will bring you something you'll like, of course, My Lord." They purred and he waved a hand, "I will return shortly, Lord."
"Make it worth it, Symphonia. You know what will happen if you don't." She bowed and left his presence and he picked up the drink and sipped from it diligently. She never failed him- hopefully she's keep up that streak.
He groaned and stirred slightly, opening his eyes. Where- was he? He sat up and looked around the rather bare room- everything was dark. Black bed sheets, black chairs, dark mahogany tables and night stands and dark curtains over the window- where the hell was he? He looked down at himself and saw he was wearing a White dress- one you would use for just rituals. Long sleeves that went to his wrists, the collar dipped down to a sharp 'V' just at mid-rib cage, a thin leather strap criss-crossed form one side of the 'V' to the other, like a corset would have, but they were loosely tied, the garment went down to his ankles. On either sides of the garment from mid-thigh, down to the bottom of the garment, were slits- but they were held together with a white fishnet material. What in the hell as he wearing? The door opened and he looked up, a girl in a French maid outfit entered, long, mahogany hair, tied in a long braid that almost dragged on the ground, if not for it being over her right shoulder.
He tilted his head slightly, examining her outfit. Short, shirt, a little higher than her knees, white stockings, black high heels, and the maid outfit was trimmed in black ruffles, a gothic Lolita band on her head, as she folded some clothes- that were his. "So- you're the maid?" She stopped and turned around, looking at him with such indescribably beautiful eyes. He could get lost in her eyes so very easily.
"You're awake? That's so good!" she went over to him and he stared at her as she leaned down, hands on her knees, smiling happily, "I'm going to give you a quick check up to make sure you're in good shape, ok?" He nodded, and opened his mouth, letting her put a tongue depressor on it, and checked his mouth, a small flashlight in hand, checking his throat, and she pulled back. "Your throat is fine." She checked his eyes "Follow the light." She instructed and he did so, as she moved the light in different directions, and then she turned it off and showed him her finger. "Follow my finger." She repeated what she had done before and withdrew, putting the flash light in her pocket and throwing away the tongue depressor. "I'm going to ask you some questions and you're going to answer to the best of your ability, ok? Take you're time, if you need to, there's no rush. Fist off, what's your name?"
"Seymour Guado." He answered.
"What's your race?"
"I'm half-Guado and Half- Human."
"What color are your eyes? You hair?"
"Both are blue."
"How did you die?"
"I was killed."
"Ok." She clapped her hands, smiling, "Oh, I'm so happy! It worked! I must go tell Master!" She said and left, Seymour getting up and going to the door, trying to open it. it was locked! There were several clicks and Seymour looked through the keyhole, seeing her legs, "Unfortunately you'll have to wait her until I go and get him." With that, she left Seymour in the room and he sighed. There was a long dresser against the wall opposite the large canopy bed. Candles- loads of candles- were against the wall on the back of the dresser, all of the hundreds of candled of a long metal slate- where the wax would catch. There were stands with flat, 3'x3' platforms on top with a few more candles. So- there was no electricity, he assumed. After what seemed like an hour or two, he got up and went to the large doors and banged on it, "Hello? Maid? Could you tell me where I am?" He kept pounding, yelling, "MAID! Where am I!" Suddenly the door was thrown open and he was pounding against someone's broad chest. Seymour looked up and saw a pair of dark eyes.
"He makes too much noise, Symphonia." They growled, and the Maid bowed sincerely, in apology,
"I'm sorry, My Lord, I didn't kind he's be so loud." She said, standing up, and the tall man glided forward, staying in the shadows, and air of superiority and power. The Lord walked around Seymour, who glared at him, "Are you not happy with him?"
"You always know how to please me, Symphonia- and I'm very pleased." The Lord commented, giving her praise and she smiled happily, the Lord brushing past her, "Get him into something he's comfortable in and give him the Royal treatment." He patted her on the head as he walked by and vanished down the hall, and she shut the door, behind him, smiling at him.
"What would you like to wear?" She asked, and Seymour stepped back,
"I want to know what's going on here." He snapped, and she nodded,
"If you want to live, you'll be doing what you're told, even if it's against your will. Have you been able to pick something you like from the wardrobe?" Seymour turned around, to see a large wardrobe. He went over to it and opened it, and groaned, pointing to the contents of the wardrobe,
"There's nothing but dresses and skirts in here." He reported, and she shrugged, and he searched the drawers of the dresser- panties, thongs, g-strings, boxer shorts- as if a woman had been living there before him. He went down to the next row across- all of it was men's things- socks, boxers, underwear, and other things around that. "Can I- just wear my normal clothes that you have neatly folded on the table to your left?" He asked and she nodded, handing him his original clothing, "Thank you." Seymour changed and she waited patiently.
"Finished?" She asked and he nodded, "Are you hungry at all?" Seymour hadn't thought about food- his stomach growled loudly at the mention of it and he flushed in shy embarrassment. "I'll take that as a 'yes'." She laughed, opening the door, gesturing to the hallway, "This way." Seymour exited the room into a rather dark hallway, and she lead him to a large room with a high ceiling, a large banquet had been set out. "Please, eat to your heart's content." Seymour did. Oh, how he did. Seymour ate until he couldn't eat anymore- the maid having vanished some time ago, leaving him with the words, 'call if you're done.'
"Maid?" Seymour yelled, looking around, wondering where she could have gone, and when he looked back she was right there, and he jolted.
"You called?" She asked, and Seymour tried to calm his racing heart. "Did I scare you? Sorry." Seymour got up, "Are you done? Take your time."
"I think I've wasted enough of your time." She bowed,
"Fair enough. Please, this way then." She said, and led him away, down the opposite side of the hall and past some doors, pointing to a pair of large red ones, "That is your room." She went to the end of the hallway then took a right to a pair of large, black doors- the texture on them blended in with the walls.
"It looks like a dead end." Seymour observed quietly, and she giggled,
"It's supposed to." She opened the doors, and Seymour entered. "These are the Master's PRIVATE bedchambers. He will be here shortly." She murmured, and Seymour jumped. What the fuck! She's led him into a trap! She shut the doors, and from outside, Seymour tried to open the doors back up- but she had some type of monstrous strength- they were heavy! Seymour gave up on that idea and looked around the room. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, the air smelt of chamomile- and something else that seeped into his muscles and relaxed them. He wandered over to what looked like a bed, candles around the room, lit up; their flames flickered on as-if they were motion-sensors. He plopped down on the bed. The dim but romantic lighting gave off nothing but danger to him. There was a small, mahogany alter, on the right side of the room, two elegant and white candles on either side of the alter, alight, some type of book on the alter, between the two candles, open to some page.
A pair of glowing grey eyes watched him from the corner of the room. "Do you get a kick out of laying on beds that don't belong to you?" Someone asked with a low, husky voice, and Seymour jumped to his feet. Seymour noticed on either side of the bed was a night stand- and on each night stand, a tall, slim, candle stick. He recognized it finally. This must have been the master of the house- the one who had commented on him earlier. "Did you enjoy your dinner?" Seymour nodded, "She made it all herself, you know. Symphonia. Or 'maid' as you call her." The voice said, "She's very useful. She gave you to me, and for that, I'm grateful." Seymour tried to look for the Master, but they could not find him. The Master watched silently, slightly interested. "What do you think of my maid?"
"She's actually very pretty…like a flower in a field of thorns." Seymour answered, still looking around. "Is she your child?"
"I don't think I could possibly dream of reproducing something as beautiful as her, unfortunately." The voice said rather frankly, with a hint of sadness. Like they had a feeling no one would want to make kids with him or something.
"I'm sure there are a lot of women (or men) who would like to help you." Seymour said and there was a chuckle.
"Mmn…but I don't need anyone now that I have you." Seymour froze up. What? Something brushed against his cheek, but when Seymour finally overcame his temporary paralysis- it was too late. He had been thrown on the bed, which stopped his fall and cushioned him, before Seymour was pinned down by someone far stronger than him, and they were covered by shadows, despite the numerous candle lights. "You smell like a virgin." Seymour shivered fearfully, trying to escape their grasp and they chuckled in amusement. "So you're a fighter, eh? I like that." They leaned down so the candles could show his face and Seymour stiffened, "Ever gotten pleasured by a man?" HOLY YEVON, he was about to get raped. Seymour froze and then he noticed them- the unusually long canines the 'Master' held. The almost pale, peach skin that held the faintest tint of humanity, but his eyes held a smile, and his hair was dark grey but peppered with white.
"I-I'm not a virgin." Seymour murmured, wondering if he could lie his way out of this. Obviously, they were a demon of some sort- if they liked virgins, if he played his cards right, Seymour could get out- couldn't he? The Master of the house cocked an eyebrow, withdrawing slightly,
"Not a virgin?" He questioned. Seymour mentally grinned- he had taken the bait!
"I've had sex with a lot of girls." Seymour said matter-of-factly, and the demon scowled,
"You're a virgin. I can smell it on your very skin." They purred, and Seymour mentally cursed. Damn it! They leaned forward, their lips only several inches away from one another, "Did you really think you could trick me?" They asked, frowning slightly, but scowling enough to show their fangs.
"I-I did- at first- but, uh, you're making it really hard right now." Seymour said, the incense burning in the room made it harder to struggle for freedom as his body screamed for sleep.
"I see. Do you like the incense? It's from Egypt- used for Kings' concubines to calm them- you won't be moving very well until the incense smell died down, unfortunately for you. But-" They sat back and picked Seymour up as if he was a child, "That's a fortunate coincidence for me." The Demon sneered, and Seymour struggled weakly, making him chuckle, "So lively." The Demon chuckled, smacking Seymour's as and Seymour jolted, as the Demon smirked at his reaction. "I can see you didn't enjoy that as much as I thought, but you'll get used to it."
"W-Wait!" Seymour said, and the Demon cocked an eyebrow, "I-I don't want to have sex with a –whatever you are." They grinned,
"I'm a vampire." They said and laid Seymour down on his stomach, "You may not want it, but you'll come to enjoy it."
"I just ate though!" Seymour whined and the Vampire kissed the back of his neck, pulling down his jacket, smirking against Seymour's skin as Seymour's breathing hitched, the Vampire dragging his tongue slowly up from between Seymour's shoulder blades and up to the back of his neck,
"Mmh…hehheh, Virgins always taste so nice." The Vampire commented, nibbling on Seymour's shoulder from behind, and Seymour shuddered, the Vampire lying over Seymour's back from behind, his hips against Seymour's. Suddenly, one of the Vampire's hands left Seymour's waist- but their warm breath against his neck didn't- as the Vampire reached over to the nightstand and picked up a cocktail glass that Seymour hadn't seen before, and pulled it over, drinking the last of it, looking down at Seymour, who looked up helplessly. "Little Guado, you're going to help me make sex-flavored daiquiris tonight." The vampire grinned mischievously.