in with, she screamed.
The slave was nearly overcome by his drinking urge, but he forced himself away from her and scrambled back to where he had been. He crouched down, wrapping his arms around his trembling, naked body to keep it in place. Turning his face to the wall, he tried to breathe... and found himself on the verge of weeping over the animal he had been reduced to.
After a while the female stopped screaming, and after even longer she said, " 'Tis truly you, is it not? The boy from the kitchen. The one who carried ale."
He nodded without looking at her.
"I had heard rumors you had been taken here, but I... I believed the others who said you'd died during your transition." There was a pause. "You are so large. Like a warrior. Why is that?"
He had no idea. He didn't even know what he looked like, as there wasn't a mirror in the cell.
The female cautiously approached him. When he looked up at her, she was eyeing his tattooed bands.
"Truly, what is done to you here?" she whispered. "They say... terrible things are done to the male who dwells within this place."
When he said nothing, she sat beside him and softly touched his arm. He flinched at the contact and then realized he was soothed by it.
"I am here to feed you, am I not? That is why I was brought here." After a moment she peeled his hand free from his leg and put her wrist into his palm. "You must drink."
He wept then, wept from the generosity of her, from the kindness, from the feel of her gentle hand as it rubbed over his shoulder... the only touch he had welcomed in... forever.
Finally she pressed her wrist to his mouth. Though his fangs unsheathed and he craved her, he did naught but kiss her tender skin and refuse. How could he take from her what was regularly taken from him? She was offering, but she was forced into it, a prisoner of the Mistress just as he was.
The guards came in later. When they found her cradling him, they seemed shocked, but they were not rough with her. As she left she looked at the slave, concern on her face.
Moments later the darts came at him, so many through the door it was as if he were pelted with gravel. As he slid into oblivion, he thought vaguely that the frantic nature of the attack didn't bode well.
When he awoke, the Mistress was standing over him, furious. There was something in her hand, but he couldn't see what it was.
"Think you too good for the gifts I give you?"
The door opened and the young female's limp body was brought in. As the guards let go, she flopped onto the floor like so many rags. Dead.
The slave screamed in fury, the roar rebounding off the stone cell walls, magnifying to an earsplitting thunder. He strained against the steel bands until they cut him to the bone, until one of the posts cracked with, a squeal... and still he roared.
The guards backed away. Even the Mistress seemed unsure of the fury she'd released. But as always, it was not long before she took control.
"Leave us," she shouted to the guards.
She waited until the slave wore himself out. Then she leaned over him, only to grow pale.
"Your eyes," she whispered, staring down at him. "Your eyes..."
She appeared to be momentarily frightened of him, but then she cloaked herself in a regal forbearance.
"The females I present you with? You will drink from them." She glanced over at the maid's lifeless body. "And you'd best not let them comfort you, or I shall do that again. You are mine and no one else's."
"I will not drink," he shouted at her. "Ever!"
She stepped back. "Do not be ridiculous, slave."
He bared his fangs and hissed. "Look upon me, Mistress. Watch as I wither!" He screamed the last word at her, his booming voice filling the room. As she went rigid with fury, the door flew open and guards came in with swords drawn.
"Leave us," she snarled at them, her face red, her body shaking.
She lifted her hand up and a whip came with it. Slashing her arm down, she brought the weapon across the slave's chest. His flesh broke and bled, and he laughed at her.
"Again," he hollered. "Do that again. I felt it not, you are so weak!"
Some dam had burst within him, and the words would not stop... He railed