Bondage in Blood Ch. 01

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Lestat the vampire relinquishes control to Gabrielle.
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This story is based on "The Vampire Lestat" (1985). the second book in Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles series, and it is a retelling of the relationship between Lestat and his mother, Gabrielle de Lioncourt, delving further into themes of femdom, incest, vampire domination and submission, foot worship, cunnilingus, erotic blood drinking as well as mind control. (not many of these will happen in the first chapter though) Please do not read if you are repelled by the above! Death will also be a recurring theme as this is a vampire story, and there will be occasions on which taking the life of humans will arouse characters.

Secondly, you do not need to read The Vampire Lestat to understand this story! It is a great book and I do recommend you pick it up, and I also think that generally being familiar with the book and the universe of the Vampire Chronicles will help you draw more enjoyment from this! That being said, for everybody who hasn't read it yet, here is a summary of the events prior to my story: (I'm summing up about 200 pages worth of content, so apologies if I can't keep this too short)

*

Lestat de Lioncourt, the character from whose perspective this is written, was born in 1758, during the reign of Louis XV, in Auvergne, France. He was the youngest of three sons although his mother had given birth to four other boys and one girl--none of whom survived childhood. His father was the Marquis as well as a blind man.

Being the youngest of three, Lestat had no prospects; any land or money that his father left behind after he died would likely go to his eldest brother, Augustin. Lestat wasn't given a proper education because of this, but he took up hunting instead at the behest of his mother, Gabrielle, who had gifted him a mare and 2 hunting dogs to care for when he was still a teenager.

He became the best hunter in the family and at 20 he managed to kill by himself a pack of 8 wolves that were troubling the villagers on his father's estate and survive, and because of this he was gifted a fur cloak from the hides of those wolves by a rich merchant from the village. On this occasion he met Nicolas De Lenfent, a violinist and the only child of said merchant. Nicolas had been educated in Paris and for months Lestat cultivated a friendship with him, discussing philosophy, theatre (Lestat always wanted to be an actor) and asking about Paris. Lestat hated the old ways of thinking, not being able to see the world or get an education and being trapped on his father's estate, and he was quite taken by the atheistic views of some of the intellectuals in Paris Nicolas told him about. Lestat's mother fell ill in this period and thought she was not going to survive the winter between 1779 and 1780, so she sold one of her old family keepsakes, gave Lestat the money and encouraged him to run away with Nicolas to Paris as she wanted to die knowing her youngest son would be free. Nicolas himself wanted to escape to Paris and be a violinist to spite his own father, who expected him to inherit the family business, so they both agreed to do it.

In Paris they lived in poverty for a while, scraping by with Lestat's meagre wage as a backstage assistant as a theatre and Nicolas playing his violin in the street. Eventually Lestat was taken in as an actor and attained much popularity with the crowds because of his impulsive and passionate performances, described by critics as "the blond-haired rogue who steals the hearts of the ladies in the third and fourth acts." They still rented a small flat near Boulevard du Temple (an area with many theatres for the commoners and street artists) in this period but Lestat was very happy with his life, though he starts noticing a mysterious white face in the audience that is continually watching him. Lestat is kidnapped one night by the mysterious face, a more than 3 centuries-old vampire named Magnus who came to his flat on the rooftops and took him to a ruined Medieval fort on the outskirts of Paris where Lestat is held prisoner until Magnus decides to sire him.

The same night Lestat was made into a vampire, his maker commits suicide by throwing himself into a fire and asking Lestat to scatter the ashes to be sure that he won't return! Magnus was a very powerful vampire who never sired anyone before, but his features were very scarred (potentially by earlier suicide attempts that failed given that he knew Lestat has to also scatter the ashes to really kill him) and he was looking for a long time for an heir so he could die, leaving Lestat on his own with little knowledge of what he is and the powers he possesses. As his inheritance of being his only fledgling, Magnus left him riches of gold and other treasures to use as he wishes (jewelry of all kinds collected from centuries worth of victims). With this money, Lestat bought the theatre where he performed and frequently sent money and gifts to Gabrielle, Nicolas and even his father and elder brothers who always looked down on him so as to feel he was still doing good even though he had to kill 1 or 2 humans every night, but he avoided seeing any of them again. He also mostly fed on thieves and criminals in this period of a few months after his embrace, dressed like a noble, attended the best opera and theatre performances in Paris and often tested his powers by climbing towers or entering churches to see if anything would happen like in the legends. (he noticed a presence which didn't feel human watching him when he did this)

Lestat continues in this way until his mother Gabrielle arrives in Paris to see him one last time, dying from consumption. Knowing he can save his mother from her imminent death, he makes her a vampire like himself (which she asked for). Once Gabrielle's health is restored as an immortal, he shares with her what little he knows of what they both are and the source of his new found wealth. Lestat soon discovers after making Gabrielle into his fledgling that he can no longer hear her thoughts, as he could with all humans.

For six months they hunt together through the night, until "the presence" that has stalked them both blocks Lestat's path to the medieval tower (most of the rest of the castle except one tower was long destroyed) and he decides to attack it. "The presence" were a coven of about a dozen vampires led by a 16-year old looking but very old vampire called Armand, who wanted to kill Gabrielle and Lestat because they had broken the laws of his coven by living like and among mortals, and especially by "desecrating" churches, which Armand thought may bring the wrath of God to all of his kind. The coven also captured Nicolas, drawing Lestat and Gabrielle into a trap, but they managed to convince most of the coven that they didn't need to abide their own laws and be "servants of Satan", fear God or live in underground graves in the cemetery of Les Innocents. The coven itself rebelled when it realized that their leader had lied to and manipulated them into living as they did and Lestat succeeded in saving Nicolas, brought him to the tower and in spite of Gabrielle's warnings not to do it sired him as well.

Nicolas didn't speak at all for a few nights until Lestat recovered his old violin for him. When he went to look for it in the city 4 of the vampires who rebelled against Armand desperately approached him for help and informed him that all the other coven members had been burned by Armand for abandoning his Satanic code of laws. Lestat, pitying them, gave them permission to live and perform in his theatre (his former human troop was now acting in London) and suggested to them using their unnatural powers to pretend they are acrobats to human audiences as an easy first cover for Vampires who didn't know how to blend in society.

Nicolas, when given back his prized Stradivarius Violin, rewarded Lestat only with sorrow. He revealed to him that he was never his friend, that he now hated him more than ever before and that even during their supposed "friendship" Nicolas just wanted to spite his father and fail all of his family's expectations to the point that he hoped to never become a great violinist and even starve in Paris, a plan which was ruined by Lestat succeeding as an actor and even more by his expensive gifts after he was sired. Lestat and Gabrielle left the violinist with the vampire "troop" after this so that he wouldn't have a chance to enact his revenge on them. (the other 4 vampires and their leader especially, a woman named Eleni, were grateful to Lestat for helping them hide from Armand and agreed to keep an eye on Nicolas)

Some time later, in the spring of 1780, Armand found Lestat alone at a ball at the Palais Royal. He used his mental powers, which were the strongest among the vampires of the city, to seduce Lestat, telling him that he only wants his love because he is alone now and everything he treasured was ruined. Armand used this as a ruse to drink his blood and attempt to kill Lestat, whom he blamed for the destruction of his coven, but Lestat managed to fend him off after losing more than half of his blood, throw him through the glass windows into the palace gardens, defeat him in combat and then drag his body far away from human eyes. He hadn't killed Armand yet and he was very weakened himself, and here's where our story picks up.

As for Gabrielle de Lioncourt, she was an educated and free-spirited, if depressed, noble woman. Born in Naples to a wealthy family, she had seen many European cities in her early years, but was married to the Marquis de Lioncourt, a blind conservative man, at a very young age. She buried herself in books most of the time to cope with the isolation she detested in Auvergne, and of her 3 surviving sons only loved the youngest one, Lestat, who shared her desire for freedom and change and took the most after her.

When the tiredness of 8 pregnancies and what she saw as a caged unfulfilling existence caught up to Gabrielle and she fell ill, she had wanted at least her beloved son to escape that life and helped him run to Paris to live his dream and become an actor. However, she never expected him to reach the success he told her about in his letters so early, and even less for him to attain the immense wealth he seemed to possess when he started showering their family with gifts in the winter. His sudden disappearance from his former theatre as well as public life in general except as a shady benefactor worried her.

Wanting to see him one last time, even bed-ridden and terribly ill, she realized he was no longer alive but "something else" when she felt his cold white skin in the luxury apartments Lestat prepared for her stay in Paris. Seeing her condition and knowing she would die maybe in hours, Lestat wanted to finally confide in someone and tell her the whole truth of what had happened with him and Magnus, and asked her if she wanted to be saved and live as he did. To Gabrielle this was no curse but an incredible blessing, as she could become dead to the world she hated and embrace a potentially eternal existence free of constraints. Giving up on seeing the sun forever seemed a bargain price to pay, so she all but yelled "yes" at her son when the question came. At this point he had no idea if he could even make other vampires or if he couldn't die himself in the act, but he did it nonetheless.

Gabrielle was about 40 years old then and still a beautiful woman, but once sired her skin grew paler and almost all the lines of old age evaporated from her face, giving her the appearance of a mature but still young lady perhaps in her late 20s or early 30s. (they didn't look like mother and son any more) She embraced this new life fully and even did things Lestat never thought about before like breaking into the houses of the rich to steal new clothes (instead of paying a lot to get shady merchants to open their shops for them at night as he did), moving throughout the city only on rooftops for the thrill of it or drinking the blood of any human, innocent or not. She also often wore men's clothes so as to be able to hunt and use her powers more easily.

This I think is enough background on both characters. The vampires within this universe can run much faster than humans, (imagine maybe 60 miles per hour for powerful ones like Gabrielle and Lestat) lift the body of any human even in one hand, easily grip stone crevices and the like to scale towers, read the thoughts of humans and seem normal, if a bit unsettling, to human passers-by. They are more powerful if sired by old vampires (Magnus was the oldest in Paris and many European cities actually, although there are rumours of ancient ones far stronger than him) and every fledgeling one makes will be weaker than the ones before (so Nicolas, being Lestat's second fledgeling, was weaker than Gabrielle). The two main characters can also jump about 3 stories high, but in spite of all the powers sunlight can easily kill any vampire.

So then, the stage is set! We are in 1780, Paris, at the height of the Ancien Regime, and these 2 immortals have a long journey through realms, ages and submission/domination ahead of them!

Thirdly, just a warning for existing fans of the Vampire chronicles! I was first spurred on to write this story by the following lines from the book:

"We write our own fairy tales, my love," I said. "The lesson in this is that nothing can

destroy what you are now. Every wound will heal. You are a goddess."

"And the goddess thirsts," she said.

Gabrielle's general tendency to be selfish and assertive after her embrace into vampirism, as well as her willingness to accept the idea of herself as a goddess and to use Lestat to attain her goals made me realize that her character could have been taken in a far more dominant direction than Anne Rice chose to without really breaking character, but this means that my story COMPLETELY DIVERGES from The Vampire Lestat at exactly Part 5 Chapter 1, after Armand failed to kill Lestat at the Palais Royal, having been thoroughly beaten back and left bleeding on the gravel path in the palace gardens. From here on out, my story becomes its own alternate universe, with many of the events that did happen further in the Vampire chronicles no longer happening.

Lastly, this is fanfiction - I don't claim any rights over "Lestat the Vampire" or "The Vampire Chronicles" myself - that belongs fully to Anne Rice and I'm not writing this for commercial purposes! Enjoy!

I lay unmoving on the stone bench. Tired, weakened, and thirsting for the blood I had lost... Like me, Armand looked lost and defeated. His face was turned to me, but not by design, his hair a tangle of curls and blood. And with his eyes closed, and his hand open beside him, he appeared the abandoned offspring of time and supernatural accident, someone as miserable as myself.

He had deceived me and tried to kill me only moments prior, but having brought him to this weakened state, battered his body beyond recognition and any semblance of humanity, I could still not find it within me to slice his throat with my rapier and leave his ashes for dust and time to claim. He was an orphan of time, a child of the 14th century believing as adamantly and feverishly in God and the Devil as any zealot of his age, still walking the Earth of the 18th century in ignorance and pain - it would have been a mercy really to deliver him unto death, but one I could not grant.

In this weakened state he was in I could peer inside his mind at last, I could see his thoughts and in doing so pity overcame me. Whether by his own volition or by virtue of his crippling wounds I do not know, but I glimpsed the darkness and pain within him which vastly eclipsed my own. I glimpsed the life of a child who had been kidnapped by Mongols from his family, sold as a slave in Constantinople, brought by Venetian merchants to serve in a brothel, and after a few years of happiness with a kind Venetian master who had freed him from the house of pleasure, he was finally made into a vampire at 16. Then he was taken in by a Satanic cult of Vampires who killed his kind master in a fire and forced him to become a "servant of Satan" himself, which meant living for 3 centuries a detestable existence of skulking in graves and knowing no love from any being, mortal or immortal. These images flashed through my mind, incoherent, unstructured, unbridled by conscious thought, but if they did speak of something it was pain and loneliness. No matter how evil I knew him to be, I just couldn't... kill a being so helpless, so pitiful, so... innocent even in a strange twisted meaning of the word.

So I stood and watched his unmoving silhouette. He would heal. He would heal all of these wounds perhaps even before sunrise if he feeds well. And for the centuries to come he will kill thousands of humans, dozens of my own kind like he already did, perhaps even my lovely Gabrielle or one day myself! He will kill and it will bring him no pleasure and he will still suffer as he does now, for he does not understand nor love this strange age or anyone within it.

I stood and watched for what felt like a timeless eternity, feeling depressed and powerless, until... until Gabrielle came like the whirlwind and, without a word, thrust herself upon him, puncturing his neck with her fangs and sucking out his remaining blood! Mayhap I could've said something or even stopped her, but alas it was not to be - I was enraptured by the carnal intensity of all that transpired before me. The way her delicate fingers pinned him to the ground, the way he struggled uselessly, the way the sweet nectar of his veins tainted her thin red lips and flooded her month in a frenzy of ecstasy, the way I could... hear faint murmurs of that which Armand shared with me previously, a desperate whispered cry of jumbled thoughts reaching out towards my mind that I could not make sense of - was he trying to tell me something? She delighted in the act of it like a creature of the night, not like one of the civilized beings we both pretended to be, her moans of pleasure escaping her lips as Armand eventually ceased moving and laid completely dry in the gravel. She rose, just as beautiful and graceful as ever, her blond hair dishevelled, her deathly-white skin shining brighter than the distant oil lamps under the moonlight and her deep blue eyes staring into my soul.

"Why Gabrielle?" was all I managed at the time. "He was helpless..."

"You ask why my love?" She replied "Do you truly not see? Have you not heard his words when he drank of your blood?"

When he drank of my blood? That was a question I did not expect, and it seemed ages ago now. Gabrielle continued before I could respond

"He said that he will kill you now because he drank away your power! If that is true we can't allow him to survive! Even if we leave Paris together and it takes him months or even years to recover, when he will find us we will stand no chance against him!"

"You are... right. For many reasons I should've done it myself... But he's not dead, and one as old as him won't die unless-"

"We burn him and scatter his ashes to the wind? That you've told me already darling, and that's exactly what we will do!"


She picked up the now frail and light body and went deeper into the palace gardens, further away from the lights of the Louvre and the grand ball, and even further from Paris's ever-vibrant streets. I rose to follow her, still troubled by the countless sad memories Armand had shared with me and still weak from the fight.

We set up a pire in no time with a few broken branches and twigs, threw his body in the searing flames and let his ashes loose on the wings of the wind. The mortal palace guards were still mostly concerned with defending the guests at the ball hosted by the Duke of Orleans, and by the time they could see the fire we were gone like devils in the night and Armand was no more! We almost flew past the rue St Honor, Gabrielle holding my hand and running ahead as fast as she could. The rest of the night was mostly a haze. She led me through a maze of Parisian alleyways until we were a safe distance from the palace, I fed on the blood of an unfortunate vagrant and we rode out of the city and returned to the tower earlier than usual. I had gotten better since feeding but Armand's last thoughts were still lingering in the back of my mind. Not long after we returned home and entered the crypt, the room which housed the medieval stone sarcophagi we slept in as well as some art and furniture I redecorated it with, Gabrielle sat down on one of the brocade red chairs by the round mahogany table and spoke to me in a much colder voice than I had grown accustomed to: