Blue Fire Ch. 01

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I swear to God I'm not into the 1800's! This one was inspired by a story I read years ago that used the word 'Daemon' and had a blue skinned girl sold to a vampire, I think. I also remember it being alternative 1800's, but could be wrong. Beautiful Curse was inspired by a game called 80 Days, which is based off '80 Days Around the World,' so that's it with 1800's stuff for now. This one gets to the sex much sooner! Enjoy!

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I was a slave from the moment I was born.

Very tragic, considering one should be free to explore and learn as much as possible when they're young. I was kept inside our cottage with my sisters, only taught the basics of education, while my brothers were sent off to work in the factories.

Our kind was barely tolerated enough by the mundane colored humans to put our men to work in their deadly factories. So deeply they despised us and our teal pigment and lack of colored irises; they called us daemons when my people climbed through the portals connecting the world of the humans above and our world underneath.

They slaughtered many of us in those early days, out of fear for the end times, but we were only escaping our own apocalypse. Already beleaguered from their frantic escape from their dying world, my ancestors couldn't put up much of a fight before they submitted to the humans' supremacy over the surface world.

Our kind would be subservient to them in all matters, and forfeit our rights to ownership of land. Instead assigned to whatever inhospitable scrap of land or dilapidated building the humans needed occupied.

My family was considered fortunate not to have to share the small house a local human had let my family settle on a useless bit of waste. It had only cost my firstborn sister.

The humans had only one weakness when it came to my race: they were obsessed with the beauty of our women.

It was an all too common practice to sell Daemon daughters into slavery at a young age. It was only adopted out of desperation to keep starving families alive at first, but over time, greedy fathers would raise a harem of daughters to sell off for profit and make alliances with condescending humans.

The mothers were lucky to be with one of their own kind and ruefully aided their husbands in the despicable trade.

My mother and father were one such couple.

And I was one such daughter.

I understood from an early age that sisters left and brothers didn't come home from work, but not until I was old enough to be sold did I understand the reasons why.

By then it was too late.

I had filled out my mother's tall, full figure quickly for my age, and I was sold to a wealthy owner of a newspaper soon after my eighteenth birthday.

My father told me to pack a bag only hours before the gentleman was due to arrive. He thanked me for getting him such a quick turnaround for what they put into raising me.

I felt too many emotions to know how to respond to him; so I packed. I only had a couple sets of clothing and my journal to pack, but I still took my time. I ran my hands over the worn wooden chest that had held my clothes for so long. My bed creaked as I hung over its side to retrieve my journal from its hiding place.

I put it my baag and found my mother standing behind me quietly. She hugged me to her for only a moment. She understood from the beginning that she would not truly know me, and maintained distance between herself and her daughters to minimize heartbreak.

She released me and I saw the disconnect behind her eyes.

I appreciated it all the same.

My sisters stood together by the doorway, their ages and height separated only by a few years and inches. My younger sister, soon to be the oldest, was only emerging through her teenage years, and the youngest barely able to speak.

I hugged and kissed each of them, the tears I wept in grievance of their fates.

My father stood at the foot of the stairs, his arms crossed.

"Be on your way to him," He commanded.

I stood and walked down the stairs to meet my fate. My father led me to the door and opened it, like a portal to another world of storm.

The rain fell hard, the mud already formed on the useless land. At the end of our little courtyard was a coach of polished ebony, the rain battering the roof of the vehicle, the horses' breath a hot fog in the air.

The coachman stood at the coach's door with an umbrella shielding him from the downpour. I stared at him but he only looked through me until I realized he wasn't going to offer me the shelter of the umbrella.

I stepped over the threshold and into the rain. My long black hair was quickly soaked through to an even darker black. I stepped carefully through the mud, hoping to take as much of home with me as possible to wherever the coach took me.

A step away from the coach's doors the man opened them and extended its small set of stairs. Finally he held the umbrella above the door but if only to keep the interior dry.

I reached for his hand to help me up but he only took my bag and left me to climb up myself while he stowed it.

I lifted the hem of my simple blue dress and lifted myself onto the seat. The coachman shut the door immediately and I felt the distinction between the warmth inside and the freezing rain outside.

I looked around and only then did I notice the man sitting in the corner of the cabin.

He wore a thick mustache beard combo and a fine looking fur coat but most striking was the look of hunger on his face as he looked me over. The edges of his lips were drawn out and his brows sat heavy over his bright green eyes.

I jumped and quickly looked to the floor to show deference to him as the human.

"I'm not done looking at you, pet. Please, show me your face again."

His tone rolled like a velvet ocean; his high class obvious in that regard as well.

I did as he said and lifted my head to him, I showed him each side of my face before I settled looking at his chin.

He chuckled deep and low, rubbing the exact spot on his chin I was staring into.

"Fantastic, darling!" He exclaimed. "You are even more perfect in the flesh, my dear. Worth every penny if I may say so prematurely."

He seemed to find this humorous and it didn't take me long to figure out what he was alluding to.

"I'm glad my price satisfied you, Master."

I had not talked to many humans in my life but I knew you must go along with whatever they say and show them every respect. The consequence of upsetting a human was oft times fatal for a Daemon and their family.

He extended a hand toward me and looked at me beseechingly until I gave him mine.

He caressed the smooth skin with his other hand, clearing enjoying how it felt.

"I am more than satisfied," he emphasized. "Say, what is your name again?"

I hesitated, afraid he would change it after considering it but finally I said, "Marie."

He returned my hand to me and motioned for me to bring my face closer to him.

"Did they name you that?" he asked, motioning to the cottage.

He felt my cheek with the back of his fingers after drying it with a handkerchief.

"No," I answered, a bit uncomfortable at the touch of a stranger.

"It was my chosen human name. For my true name is difficult for humans to pronounce."

He held my chin in his hands and turned my face, looking into my eyes and studying me.

"I'm a good sport, go ahead, lay it on me!"

He seemed excited by everything and I feared what the consequence of telling him something boring in the future may be.

"Blue'lthmiza."

He watched my lips articulate my name as he held my head in his hand, entranced by them.

He released me and slapped his knee.

"Right! Blue. El. Thmaza."

He looked at me expectantly.

"Correct, Master," I said.

He smiled wide, proud of himself for surmounting the human tongue.

"I think we will get on swimmingly, Marie."

He placed his hand on my knee, without permission this time.

"You may continue to call me Master, but my name is Frore, just so you know who others are talking about when they talk to you."

"Thank you, Master"

He squeezed my knee and started to travel up my lower thigh, peeling the wet fabric from my skin as he went.

"I have a rather sizable family and you will obey them like you would me. You will reside there until I can determine you are fit to travel with me; keeping me company and taking dictation."

His hand had reached my inner thigh then, gently fondling the supple flesh.

"You can read and write, can't you?"

My cheeks flushed pink at his intimate reach, never having been touched my another so and I stammered out an answer.

He saw the effect he was having on me and smiled sardonically, the ends of his moustache curling with his lip.

But he retracted his hand.

"Bullmour! Let us be off!" He commanded the driver, who whipped the backs of the horses rapidly. The carriage lurched forward, throwing me forward at the unexpected force. I fell onto the seat adjacent while the Master laughed heartily before he scooped me up to sit next to him, holding me to his chest.

I thanked him but he only held me tighter, my breasts squeezed between us uncomfortably. I couldn't move at all, and I feared angering him if I tried to squirm out of his embrace. He looked like a happy lion, the way he proudly wore his golden-brown facial hair over his jubilant grin.

He didn't say anything until we were at the gates of his residence. The carriage came to a stop and he finally released my sore form, my breasts aching as they regained circulation. He saw me adjust them through my slightly dried dress and grinned cheekily.

"Already trying to tease, my Marie?" He said. "I am very impressed with you, but you must keep it together until tonight. Today you will get acquainted with the house."

Bullmour opened the door and my Master descended the stairs, holding a hand out to help me down after him.

The rain had stopped and was replaced with bright sunshine burning through drab clouds, forcing me to squint until my eyes adjusted. High iron gates blocked the way, connected to a brick wall that surrounded the entire house. An ancient courtyard was laid out before the massive door to the tall brick manor. Hedges lined paths and fountains marked the corners of the yard.

The gates parted and a stocky man dressed similar to Bullmour appeared to open them entirely to allow us in. My Master waved his hat to Bullmour in dismissal as he led me down the paved path to his home.

"Thank you, Stausll. This is Marie! Isn't she astounding?"

He didn't wait for an answer as we passed the guard, who nodded solemnly as he eyed me up and down.

I quickly turned back around to look at the fountains and immaculately kept grounds.

"As you prove yourself to be trusted here, Marie, you will be allowed to spend your free time out here if you wish."

One of the great doors opened for us, yet another servant of the Master easing the life of this strange, powerful man. He didn't address this one as we passed, though he did look at me in surprise, obviously surprised to see a Daemon.

I smiled at him but he refocused on his task of shutting the heavy door and moving on with his duties.

My Master whirled about to present the foyer to me, arms outstretched. A set of alabaster white staircases rose behind him to converge on a landing on the second floor. Curio cabinets and display cases showed off treasures and photographs the Master and his family had accumulated over the years.

I saw him as a young man, a husband, and then a father; a little sea of faces about his knee. The most recent looking one sporting his loud facial hair was devoid of about half of the children. I wondered if the factories took his sons as well.

He frowned, noticing I was looking at them. He dropped his exaggerated pose and pulled me to him.

"Come, Marie. There is so much more to show you."

He showed me the rest of the first floor, a dining room, a living room, rooms without any purpose. I'd never been in a building so large before or been near such opulence. Servants waited in every room he showed me, ready to provide him with anything he desired.

But he only focused on me. He showed me all his wealth and grandeur, watching my face to see how I reacted to it. I didn't know what he wanted to see but I reacted truthfully in awe all the same.

When he was satisfied we began up the stairs, where he stopped me on the landing to tell me his family would be there.

"I have a wife and I can assume you understand what a woman would think about a man going ahead and buying another woman. She tolerated the idea, as is expected of her, but I can't guarantee how highly she'll tolerate you.

"Do whatever she says, as exactly as you can manage. She is the Master of the house when I'm not here. That will be your first little rule, Marie."

"Of course, Master. I will follow it."

He smiled but it faded as he prepared to show me his family. Humans seemed as wicked as our history alleged. I began to feel even more frightened than I already was in anticipation of how his wife would treat me. How his children would stare at me.

He took my hand and we climbed the remaining steps.

Their eyes were already upon me. Two teenage boys and one girl sat at a table under a large window. Their mother aborted taking a sip from a teacup when she saw my skin. She looked repulsed yet I could perceive jealousy as well. I was younger than her, assuredly, but she did not look too hideous herself.

She wore spectacles and kept her brown hair in a bun smartly atop her head. It seemed a frown was ever present on her face, as the lines of her face disappeared as she did so.

The boys were spitting images of their father although their faces sported no mane. The daughter looked like the result of their coupling; his hair color and her natural unpleasant gaze.

I smiled at them and looked at my Master, who was already staring at me. My smile died as I assumed it wasn't what he wanted me to do. I focused hard at the floor, embarrassed.

"Oh, no. Marie, I apologize, my dear. I was just watching how you reacted to my family. Look up, dear."

"I apologize, Master," I said, even though he told me I wasn't in the wrong.

I looked up at his family, his children more confused and his wife even more displeased.

"This is Marie, everyone. She is our new Daemon slave! Treat her fairly, but ensure she is behaving as she should."

"Can we touch her, father?" One of his sons asked.

He gestured for me to go to them and said, "Of course, son, go right ahead."

I gulped and willed my body forward, keeping my eyes slightly downcast until I was before their table.

The sons reached over their food to hesitantly poke and rub my arms. They looked at each other curiously, as if finding I was truly flesh as they were.

The daughter looked at my black fingernails displeased but didn't seem too interested in me. She continued to eat despite the spectacle.

"You speak our language?" One of the boys asked.

"I do, young Master."

Before I could close my lips, the woman had a finger in my mouth. I recoiled instinctively but she raised a hand at me.

My father ruled us absolutely and would threaten the same way if we disobeyed, so my fear-driven training won out and I remained in place.

Her finger explored my teeth and the insides of my cheeks, her cruel eyes peering deep into mine.

She removed her finger and sat back in her seat like nothing as strange had ever transpired.

"Their teeth are not as sharp as we've been told," she said matter of factly.

Her children looked at her and nodded, finding whatever rumor they believed to be unfounded as well.

The Master approached and placed his hands upon my shoulders.

"If you are all done examining her, I'll go ahead and show her the rest of the house."

He guided me down a hall to our left and told me which bedroom belonged to which member of the family. The children each had a room down the opposite hallway while the hallway we were in was for his wife and him, the second room was his office and the third, he told me rather proudly, was mine.

"The servants' rooms are downstairs; you should feel honored!"

He pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door, excited. I knew then he would lock me in, just as my father had. I shuddered imagining myself trapped alone in a new prison, no sisters to share the sorrow with.

Master Frore said something to me but I was lost in the vision. He waved his hands in front of my face in attempt to rouse me but I only backed away, afraid. He grabbed my arm and my presence returned to my body.

I jumped but his grip held me steady. My Master's face appeared concerned as reality refocused.

"Marie, are you alright? Come, lay on your bed for a moment."

He pushed the door open to reveal a bedroom as big as the cottage I grew up in. The furniture was bright white and clean; a far cry from the miniature barracks I shared with my sisters.

I sat on the tightly made bed and looked over the spacious room, my Master easing me to lay upon it. Even the ceiling above was beautiful, as if it was composed of hundreds of little white flowers in a pattern.

My Master opened the wardrobe on the other side of the room and rummaged through it until he took out a short white dress.

"My wife's when she was younger," he said, setting the dress on the bed.

"Sit up, Marie. Let's get you out of that wet dress," he said.

I sat up and prepared for the humiliation. I lifted each leg to pull my dress from out under me. I had started to pull it over myself from where it pooled on my thighs but my Master stopped my effort.

"Allow me."

He grabbed the hem and and lifted it up, revealing the light blue skin of my stomach and abdomen. He stopped lifting it to marvel at my body, rubbing my stomach and thighs up and down.

"Exquisite," he whispered.

He continued to lift the dress and I held my arms up to expedite the embarrassment, the burning in my cheeks becoming too much.

My breasts fell against my chest as he lifted the dress over them and my head. He gasped and breathed in sharply.

"Not too big and not too small, you are perfect!" he said, as his hands traveled up my ribs to cup each breast.

He squeezed them gently, the sensitive skin burning under his touch. I tried my best not to shy away from him but his exploratory touching was nothing I was accustomed to. His fingers encircled my dark blue areolas, spiraling inward to squeeze my nipples.

I caught my breath when he had his fill and his hands traveled back down, examining my rib cage before they slipped over my waist and gripped my generous hips.

"You are quite bountiful down here, Marie. I will enjoy gazing upon your form very much."

He appeared to be in total bliss as he felt the curve of my hips into my thighs and bottom. I was especially embarrassed by this, for I was insecure about the imbalance I perceived between my narrow upper body and plump lower.

He was enthralled by all of me, though, and I felt pride underneath the burning sensation his fingers made me feel.

I was his slave, but he admired me so much and he was kind to me thus far. I began to look on the bright side of it all. I had gained more than I had lost in such a short amount of time, from a certain perspective. Though no amount of curious fingers or large rooms could replace my sisters.

I realized I would never see them again.

"And how could I resist this?" he asked himself, poking a finger underneath my panties.

"So innocent! So pure!" he said, extending more fingers underneath the simple white material onto my short short strip of pubic hair. I gasped and reached for his hand to stop him.

His look of mad lust faded away at my touch. He looked at my hand and then his own hidden beneath my panties.