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“You’re going to bleed for me.” The door opened, but the Mistress didn’t pause in speaking. “He’s going to cut along your forearm, and then he’s going to paint my face with your blood. That’s what he’s going to do to you.” She turned her attention to the male slave, holding out a small knife. And like I knew would happen, he stepped forward to take it without thought.
The Mistress sat down not a foot from me. If I could have run, I would have. All I could do was curl more into the wall as she stared me down.
“If you fight, he’ll cut deep. Today you may live. Tomorrow night when I want him to do it again, you may not. If you do this peacefully and submit every night, you’ll make it another day.”
“My blood?”
My voice cracked as her stare at me remained stoic. Her eyes swept to the slave as he knelt, grabbing hard to my free arm. It was tense, but I allowed him to pull it close to him without too much of a fight. After all, I was torn on what I should do. I didn’t trust him not to hit some major vein and kill me. But if I really fought, I was as good as dead.
“Shallow,” the Mistress snapped. “Unless she fights you.”
“Please. Mistress, please. I don’t want this. Please.” A cold hardness pushed along the middle, and I cried out as a sharp pain caused me to jolt in his tight hold. The burning only went down a half inch before the metal stopped.
“Perfect, slave.” But the guy didn’t need praise. He was already using the pad of his thumb to smear crimson over her face like the robot he was. It was so bright against her skin, it horrified me. I kept trying to scoot back, to pull my arm away from him, but there was nowhere for me to go. Escape was impossible. So, where did that leave me? Here, bleeding out for this psycho-actress, or did I risk it all and suffer the consequences?
Mistress B-0003
Had I expected him to balk? To look at me horrified and judge me? I told myself I didn’t care even if he did, but a part of me still wasn’t used to people knowing my secret. My slave’s lack of reaction had me letting out a sigh I didn’t even know I was holding. It was the first night. The hardest one, if I wanted to be honest, but now Mark knew. If I could read him right, a small part of him maybe even liked it. Or maybe it was wishful thinking.
“A little more, Mistress.” His lids lowered through the concentration as he continued to apply. “May I speak?”
I turned enough to face him. It had my slave’s hand stopping just short of my jaw. There was a nervousness but something more. Something I couldn’t read, and I didn’t like it. My insecurities came back. Maybe even ones that had led me to this place to begin with.
“I’m your agent, and I’m being honest with you, Charlotte. They said no. You’re too old for that role.”
“That’s what you said about the last one I suggested as well.”
“Because that’s what they told me. It wasn’t my choice. You know I’ll do whatever you ask, but I can’t make them star you in the film if you’re not what they’re looking for.”
“Make them! I’m not too old. I don’t look it.” I’d stopped, glancing over to the mirror. Did I look old? I was thirty-eight. I took good care of myself, but was I considered old?
A yell had poured from me, and I stormed out. “Fuck them. Fuck you all.” And then my search had begun. It started with research and reaching out to my connections. Then I’d been introduced to Jillian. She was the one who eventually mentioned this place. Now…this.
“What, slave?” The words pushed through my clenched teeth. He swallowed hard, using his towel to press against the weakling’s wound. “Just say it.”
“There are other means in association with this that you could use if you want. Techniques I would be more than happy to learn to do for you, if you’d allow me the training. I’m smart. I can do it. I’m here to serve you.”
My slave’s words took a moment to break through. Where I expected him to criticize me or make some excuse as to why I didn’t need this, he wasn’t. He wanted to help. To learn.
“What sort of things are you talking about? Not plastic surgery or filler. I won’t do that; I refuse.”
His head shook, and he eased me to stand. When I let him lead me to the edge of the bed, he gave me back the knife.
“You’re aware of estheticians?”
“Of course.”
“Have you been to one?”
A finger trailed over my wrist, soft, barely there. I jerked my hand away, seeing Mark’s eyes flare. Had he even realized he was touching me?
“I went once. I didn’t like the office. They were wrong.” My lips tightened through my confession. “I had a friend, Jillian, who would send me trusted vials of blood and cream to apply. They’ve worked fairly well, but I was told the real thing works better. Not that I need any of it. I’m fine. I just…I want to see for myself if there’s a difference.”
“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world. Not just to me, but to millions of people. For you to believe what we all know, you have to feel it. I can learn anything you want. Get me the machines and training, and I will do what those offices charge a fortune for. I’ve already studied and know the bulk of it. You’d never have to face anyone else again. You have me, and you can have it all. This,” he said, motioning to the weakling, “andthe treatment you don’t want anyone to know about. Have you heard of the vampire facial?”
Staring at his enthusiastic face, I nodded. “I’ve had friends who’ve had them done.”
“I can do that for you. Anything you desire can be yours, and it can be through me.”
