Consumed Ch. 02

And so the House, once LeMarchand, now de Valmont, returned to normal.

Or what passed as normal on the outside.

Danforth, the oh-so-proper English butler, returned from hiding in the stables, as quiet and formal as ever, if a bit twitchy in one eye. He moved quietly through the house, never asking about the Lady...or Lord LeMarchand.

The upstairs chambermaid was replaced with one more to the Marquis's tastes. Her name was Louisa, an eighteen year old with the curves of a much older woman, pure peasant stock. She had joyously agreed to the job when Danforth had sent a message to her mother, and had anticipated meeting the well-known and thought-of Lady Claire LeMarchand.

You can image her surprise when Danforth admitted her not into the Lady's presence, but into the Great Library, a room so immense, the ceiling was lost in shadows. Columns filled with all types of books soared to the upper reaches of the room, and mounted trophies stared at her from all corners. She stared at those animals, dropping her meager bag of clothing, fearful to move at all lest they pounce.

"What are you waiting for, my dear?" came the Marquis's smooth baritone. He was sitting in an armchair of indeterminate color beside a blazing fire in a fireplace large enough to roast a whole ox at once. She jumped, completely startled, and managed, "I'm sorry, Sir." Pulling herself together, she curtsied and began again, "I'm Louisa, the new upstairs maid, Sir. I...I was told to report to Lady..."

"No, you will report to me." came the reply full of rich humor. "Come here and let me see you."

She moved only slightly closer, alarms already going off in her simple mind. She had longish brown hair wrapped around the back of her head in thick braids, hazel eyes as frightened as a rabbit's, and a wide mouth with full pink lips.

Perfect, the Marquis thought.

She wore a full skirt of heavy woven wool, dyed a deep green, and a bleached muslim shirt that dipped low in the front showing quite a bit of cleavage.

"Come closer, my dear. My eyes just aren't as good as they once were." he tittered. She moved scant inches forward.

All at once, he was grasping the front of her shirt and pulling her to him. She opened her mouth to scream when his large hand covered it completely. "Don't make a sound. If you make a sound, not only will you be out of this house, but I'll ruin that pretty little face of yours before I do it." he sing-songed to her. She stood perfectly still, her breathing labored and harsh, staring straight into his eyes. "First rule. In this house, if I speak, you will listen. If I give you a command, you will follow it or suffer at my hands. Is that clear?" She was too frightened to move, so he grabbed the great knot of hair at the back of her head and made her head nod in agreement. At the same time, he began pulling pins out and dropping them on the floor. Her hair finally fell in a great wave almost to the backs of her knees.

"Take off your clothes."

She stood there, completely wide-eyed, in shock. At once, he grasped the shirt and easily ripped it from her body. She squeeked and wrapped her arms around her ample breasts. "Now then, do you wish to lose the skirt as well? Or are you going to take it off? I want to know exactly what I'm buying." She merely shivered. Sighing, he ripped the wool as well, as if it were nothing more than wet paper. "It's just as well. You won't be needing it here. You will be supplied with a proper uniform."

She stood before him in nothing more than her hand woven stockings and thick leather boots. Her hands tried to cover both her breasts and the thick brown fur at her Venus mound, but to no avail. Finally, she shook her hair about her like a veil, Lady Godiva being examined.

"It's not your body I want anyway, poppet." he gently smiled. "From now on, I expect a great deal of...languishment...after dinner every night." She looked at him with no understanding. "Part of your duties now are to keep Upstairs presentable and to suck...my...cock every night. Understand?"

The light went on at last. Her eyes glittered with tears, relieved ones or not, he did not know. "Danforth!"

"Sir."

"Get this fool girl dressed and give her something to do."

"Yes, Sir." The girl followed Danforth meekly enough.

One other thing happened that afternoon--the rug was replaced in the front foyer.

And the Lady LeMarchand?

The new Widow found herself locked in the master bedroom, chained to the wall by ten feet of cold, iron chain. She paced from one corner of the room to the other, pulling in vaid at the D-ring recessed into the stone wall. She was allowed clothing after a sort--a black corset that pushed her breasts high.

The Marquis had the only set of keys, swinging from his belt, so tantalizing.

And things were good.

++++++++++++++++++++++

The sun was setting, the sky a brilliant red--not that she could see it. The windows in the master bedroom had been shuttered and bolted. The only light she had came from an oil lamp sitting on the writing desk across from the massive, canopied bed.

"How long are you going to keep me here?" she asked plaintively, sitting quietly on the thick rug beside the bed. Her red hair spilled down her back and pooled on the floor like a pile of embers. It had been three weeks since her husband's untimely death--somehow, she had to get free.

She got to her feet and slowly made her way over to where the Marquis was standing. He stood so tall, so hansome, in his brilliantly white shirt, red silk waistcoat and black pants with his hair tied back neatly with a queue. She smiled and lightly pushed her uncovered breasts against him, the nipples springing instantly erect. "Surely you can unshackle me, my love." she purred, as she ran both hands over the bulge in his pants.

"Not until you sign the papers, my lovely." he replied sunnily, grinning at her and yanking her hands away from himself.

She stared at him coldly, shrewdly. "You know I will not sign over my family's fortune to you. No matter how long I have to rot in here."

The Marquis shrugged and smiled. "I thought you might say that, so I brought some...friends...over to help persuade you to make the right decision." With those odd words, he strode over to the heavy wooden doors and threw them open. In walked two women, each naked but for long strands of pearls around their necks and woven into their lucious black hair. Each had small features, slim hips, and each wore a vicious smile. They were identical.

"Oh, so you brought some of your whores over to play with?" Claire snarled, shaking her bound wrists. "Have you forgotten how I have already played so many of such games with you? How you have had me anyway you wanted, even in my friends' homes?" she shrieked. "You think watching you pleasure two more common whores is going to make a difference to me?"

"Oh, they are not for me, dearest." he stood, slowly unbuttoning the neck of the white shirt he wore. "May I introduce Annaliese and Vivianne Lafayette?" The two girls knelt beside Claire, who was trying vainly to push herself through the wall, and began stroking her hair.

"I have no interest in girls, Marquis." Claire stuttered, trying to make herself as small as possible.

"They have no interest in your sex, either, poppet." came the reply. "Smile for Claire, my beauties."

With that, the two girls smiled winningly, showing off their matching set of fangs. "Vampires, my dear. You see, they are terribly, terribly hungry as I haven't let them feed for several nights. Until you sign the papers...well, you understand." He stratched his bare chest, running his had absentmindly through the thick hair. "Enjoy yourselves." With that, he strode out the door, calling Danforth for whiskey, and Louisa to start learning her most intimate of chores.