My Little Ventrue Pt. 07 Ch. 20

"Very well. I will seduce your little Ventrue, and dare I say, half of your city with him, with what I will be wearing at the ball."

"Oh, does that include Daniel?"

That shattered Elaine's smile, and she fell back in her seat hard enough for her blond, wavy hair to bounce. "It would! But your infuriating sheriff has abandoned all sexuality."

"He is Mekhet, not Daeva."

"I am Ventrue, not Daeva, and I can still enjoy the bliss of skin touching skin. Why your blasted sheriff refuses to let me touch him remains beyond my reasoning." She reached out for her desk and began to tap index and middle finger against it, almost violently. "And you tell me he shares a bed with no one?"

"Not that I am aware of. He feeds privately, and when he is not embarking on the tasks I give him, he is studying what knowledge I have gathered on ephemera." A part of her wanted to share knowledge of Mary, a ghost, and invite Elaine to perform experiments. Anyone in the Ordo would be excited to learn of a ghost they could actively engage with. So many specters were obscure, difficult to lock down, or otherwise impossible to interact with. Mary was a tantalizing treat that Antoinette had to resist, lest she offend her lover and her childe. Frustrating.

Speaking of her childe. Antoinette's phone began to ring, and the ring tone announced it was Samantha Terry.

"I must take this, Elaine. I look forward to your arrival, and... and, I acquiesce. If you wish to wear something far too revealing, you have my permission, as I know other Kindred will wear similar." Antoinette would too, no doubt. The thought of making her lover stare in awe was forever too great a guilty pleasure. Perhaps she could convince her childe to wear something revealing as well? She knew, with a little nudging, that the precious Natasha could also be convinced to wear something très risqué, considering the odd turns her sexual life had taken. Convincing Samantha to do the same would be a little trickier.

"I will speak to you when I arrive tomorrow night then. Au revoir." And the conversation ended with a silent blip.

Antoinette answered her childe's call. "Yes, my dear Samantha, how may I help you?"

"Hi sire. I wanted to tell you that Jack and I went to visit Mary."

Antoinette blinked several times, before finally saying, "Oh. I see."

"I... I wasn't sure you'd want to come, Antoinette. He wasn't sure, either."

"And why would I not?"

"Because it's... it's just an old, small house, you know? It's so, I don't know the word... plebeian? And Mary and Jack I, it was--"

"Please, childe, the next time you speak to your daughter, I would like to be there. She is a part of your past, a powerful part, and as your sire, I feel I will know you better, if I meet a part of that past." And while that was true, Antoinette also ached to speak directly with something she only managed short encounters with in the past, a true specter.

"Oh, that's a good point. I'm sorry."

"It is alright, dear Samantha. I had honestly not considered that, perhaps, you would feel this way about your past life. I admit, I know Jack through Julias and the Invictus, a world of suits and money. But please, do not fret. Such homely beginnings are far from unusual, and nothing to be judged over."

She could almost hear Samantha smile over the phone. While Antoinette thought her words sounded patronizing, she knew Samantha well enough by now to know the woman loved direct, honest, heartfelt communication. She was Jack's mother, after all, and while Jack was a far more intelligent and scrutinizing, analytic sort, much of what made Jack tick, made Samantha tick. Namely, direct honesty.

"Thank you. I'll make sure to invite you next time."

"Please do." A gentle touch of insistence, to remind Samantha of who she was. She was the Prince of Dolareido, and the woman's sire. Samantha had a responsibility to acknowledge that, and treat her with the respect she deserved. At the same time, teaching Samantha was a delicate affair, after the trauma she had suffered, combined with her personality. Antoinette had to be careful how she worded things.

Some Kindred could be taught with pure information, like Jack, Natasha, and likely Damien. Others needed to be dominated, pushed around, perhaps sometimes bullied, like Jessy and many Gangrels. Some needed to outwitted, and shown that they were not as intelligent as they thought themselves to be, such as Jennifer or Isabella. Others responded best to emotional support. Samantha was such a person.

"How is your daughter?" Antoinette continued. "Has learning of Angela's death helped her move on?"

"No... no it hasn't. That's part of the reason I called. Mary, she says... she says she can't go yet."

"Cannot?"

"Can't, or won't, she doesn't even know! But, but she says there's something going on, something in... in the afterlife, I guess? I don't know, she doesn't know. And she won't go until whatever this thing is, something that's... in Dolareido, something that she can feel, is gone."

That, was intriguing. Mary was a creature of ephemera, and while it was unknown whether she was a ghostly afterimage, or the literal soul of Samantha's daughter, it was still true that she was no longer among the living. Mary, someone who had been blissfully unaware of the world of the paranormal in life, was now aware of something that fit Antoinette's vague and hidden threat.

It was settled then. She would have to visit Mary, and perhaps do so on her own.

"Merci ma petite, for sharing this with me. This information helps me more than you know."

"Um, you're welcome!"

"And, as the ball will soon be upon us, I would have you return to the tower. We must find both you and I something to wear."

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~~Natasha~~

The room was huge, as big as a basketball court, with high walls of black marble. Within one wall was a closet almost as big as the actual room, filled with wardrobes and clothes racks on wheels that Antoinette pulled out to be sifted through. Leather stools sat about, with enormous mirrors against walls lined with light bulbs, for sitting at and adjusting make up and whatnot. A very 'showgirl backroom' sorta room, if the showgirls had all been millionaires.

How the times had changed. She'd only just been getting used to Antoinette, and her sire Daniel again, when the Prince had held the last ball. And the ball before that, Lucas had crashed. Back then, she'd thought of Antoinette as this immovable force that could not be stopped or denied. Lucas and his assault on the tower had shown her otherwise.

Antoinette wasn't some unstoppable force, some immutable or invincible deity. She wasn't a god, or demon, or volcano or tornado. Antoinette was a woman, a woman who knew what she liked and what she wanted. Rare, but then, she'd had centuries to figure out what she wanted from her second life. Maybe it was that sense of direction, combined with her power, that made Antoinette such an intimidating figure. But, intimidating or not, it'd been some time now that Natasha no longer thought of Antoinette as an unapproachable god.

That didn't mean she didn't still think of her as a very intimidating woman, someone who was too smart and wise for Natasha to ever truly outwit or outsmart. Natasha prided herself on her intelligence, and she used it to run circles around most people; quiet circles that she kept to herself. With Antoinette, she ran no circles. Every word, every motion, every eye glance Antoinette made was a calculated action, and Natasha quickly realized it was better to just do whatever it was Antoinette wanted her to do.

Tonight, that was try on dresses.

"J-Jessy says I should try a loose hanging scarf... that's also the t-top." If there was a name for the absurd fashion item, she didn't know it.

Samantha giggled. Antoinette chuckled. Natasha, despite herself, smiled as she squirmed a little on the leather stool seat. All three of them wore suits, though only Natasha's had pants. They were in Antoinette primary dressing room, where she kept literally hundreds upon hundreds of dresses, and had apparently taken it upon herself to fill her rows upon rows of hangers with clothes for her two students as well. Well, student and childe. Samantha had yet to join them in matters of the Ordo.

"I would have to agree with your friend," the Prince said. "Your small bust allows you to wear clothes that expose much of your torso, without it becoming blatantly erotic so quickly."

Tash frowned at that. "I need b-bigger boobs."

Jack's mom snorted on a laugh, and pat her shoulder, also sitting on the large stool. "Me too?"

Tash's frown grew. Now Samantha was making fun of her. The woman had perfectly normal breasts. Tash basically had none, tiny mounds that were only noticeable in skintight clothes. Which didn't seem to bother her boyfriends, because all she had to do was show the slightest bit of skin, and they were all over her.

Last night, after seeing Jessy and Eric enjoying themselves, she'd pretty much thrown herself at them. Damn that woman, corrupter of all good and pure.

"Nonsense," Antoinette said, and she pulled aside one of the coat racks that was utterly crammed with dresses and things preserved in clothes bags.

"Easy for you to say!" Her loud tone earned a raised brow from the Prince, but when Tash shrank, Antoinette just laughed and shrugged.

"I admit, being well endowed has provided me with many advantages, when it comes to controlling the sexuality of others. But that does not mean it is always a blessing, Vola. And besides, a small, dainty figure allows a woman to stir all sorts of sexual hungers. Many men fantasize about holding a small creature such as yourself in their grasp, someone très petite, someone that they can bury inside their arms and legs, and hold, pinned on their lengths as they squeeze you to their chests."

Natasha's frown slowly faded, and try as she might to stop it, she knew she was smiling. Yeah, that was exactly what Matt and Art liked to do. They liked to make her disappear against their bodies, manhandle her a bit, pick her up and move her around cause she was so small, and squash her into the bed. They did it last night.

She smiled with the memory, and the memory of what triggered it. Eric was getting bigger. It wasn't that she found him necessarily more attractive because he'd grown bigger since she first met him, but after spending so many nights with two very large guys, her tastes were changing. Once upon a time, she'd figured she'd have preferred guys like Damien, thin, without any bulging muscles. It made more sense for someone like Fiona to be into big guys with big muscles. And yet, it was the super extroverted redhead with the giant boobs going for Damien, and little Natasha getting, as Jessy would put it, 'DP'd on the reg by two huge dudes'.

So of course, Jessy thought it'd be a good idea to show her everything Eric was doing to her. And what shocked Tash more, was how quickly Eric got into it! Those two were meant for each other, assholes. She smiled to herself as she remembered the sight of Eric, his length in his hand, all covered in cum and juices.

It really was Jessy's fault. It had to be. Only--

A sharp pain made her sit up, and she blinked at the vampire beside her.

"Your mind's running away without you, honey," Samantha said, lowering her hand after flicking Tash's shoulder. The grin on her face showed she knew where Tash's mind went, and Tash looked down at her knees.

"And you, Samantha," Antoinette said. "I hope to see you engage with others at the ball."

"Engage?"

"Oui. Talk to Kindred, learn who they are, introduce yourself to them. You are my childe, and that will lend you weight; others will respond to you whether they wish to or not."

"People won't want to talk to me?" Samantha put a hand to her cheek, genuinely surprised. Natasha had to suppress the need to giggle.

"The Danse Macabre, my childe. While this ball is meant for all to relax, feed, and mingle, most Kindred will find it difficult to speak with you without considering your position. They will worry that, if they offend you, they may offend me. Or different but similar worries will bother them."

"Oh. I'm the daughter of the mayor. I've seen this movie."

Tash laughed. Would the Prince even get the reference? Apparently she did, because she chuckled, nodded, and continued to comb through the various dresses she had hanging.

"Oui. I suggest you use the others as a catalyst. While Natasha or Damien could help you, I know Jessy or Jennifer will happily bury you in socialization."

"But... not Jack?"

Natasha winced, and looked to Samantha for only a second before looking down again. Say something? No, Antoinette would handle this.

"I fear Jack will be the most feared character at the ball, Samantha."

Samantha gasped, a sound so classic, Tash could have sworn she'd taken it straight from a soundboard.

"They'll be afraid of Jack?"

"Jack has gained a strange infamy, my sweet childe. His defeat of the hunters, combined with the spreading rumors of his curse, has painted a dangerous image of my love. This ball is also to show others that Jack is perfectly in control, and calm the fears of the city."

"In control, b-b-but... still ridiculously strong," Tash said. "Garry will p-probably poke and prod, to see how much of a threat Jack is."

The young Daeva sighed, got up, and looked at the many hanging dresses. "It hurts, to think of Jack being the target of so many horrible things."

"As it pains me," Antoinette said. "With his sire gone, I fear that your son will continue to put himself in harm's way, taking up tasks that would normally fall to Julias."

Natasha sighed, and the two Daeva looked to her. "I miss Julias." Sighing again, she kicked the bottom of the stool with her heel gently. "He was r-really... kind." Damn it. It'd been many weeks since Julias died, but it still stung, remembering that her friend, second only to Jessy, was dead. And Julias, of all Kindred! The last man who deserved it.

"Come now, my sweet." The Prince came over to her, and pet her shoulder as she smiled down at her. "I knew Julias as well. Not as personally as you, but better than you may suspect. He would not want you to feel such sorrow."

"I know. I know. I just..." She shook her head with a quick shudder, dislodging the sadness as best she could. Antoinette nodded, and Natasha stood up to join her and Samantha. "M-Maybe some girly stuff will make me feel better."

That earned a proper laugh from Antoinette, and she withdrew several dresses from her many, and set them over the rack. "Referring to the art of embellishing the body as 'girly' does not do justice this ancient game, little Vola. Men groom beards, wear suits with accented shoulders, build muscle unnecessary in the modern world, and in addition, attempt to display their financial security through fashion, vehicle, and other tools, knowing full well women find such things attractive. This game is played by both genders, and those between."

"I dunno," Samantha said as she pulled out a dress, and held it in front of her along her body for the other two to see. A pretty, classic, long black dress with sleeves and modest cleavage. "I mean, I know what you're saying, sire. But, you don't think women have a bit of... uh, a bit of a bias, in this department? I mean, Jack never put on make up when he was living with me, and I think that's still true."

Natasha smiled at the young Daeva, nodding. "I agree with Samantha. P-People are going to be looking at us more than the men, at the b-b-ball."

"There was once a time," Antoinette said, "where it was the other way around. But, yes, I admit that in this modern age, the pendulum has swung in our direction. Perhaps it has been in our direction for many centuries." She took Samantha's dress, put it back on the rack, and pulled out another. It looked similar to the one Samantha had picked, but the cleavage was much deeper, and a diamond was cut out of the stomach to expose the navel.

Samantha looked at the dress, gulped, took it, and stepped around the clothes rack. Out of sight, she began to change, and Antoinette rolled her eyes at her childe.

"I still think," Samantha said, "that women have been judged by how they look more than men, since forever."

"Perhaps, but men have been judged by a larger group of factors, and many of those factors are indicated visually. And while those factors may not draw the eye with such hypnotic attention as a woman's bust or derrière, that does not change that men are judged by how well concerning factors appear visually, and they are judged with great harshness."

Natasha smiled to herself. Her boss was a student of the human condition, which was kind of strange, considering she hadn't been human for a bunch of centuries. At first, she'd thought maybe Antoinette was a 'woman for woman-kind' sorta person, but the more they talked, the more it became clear Antoinette considered men with her assessments with as much rigor as she did women.

Samantha made a sound, almost like a disbelieving scoff, but she was too sweet to double down on an aggressive sound like that. "Example?"

"A man in uniform."

Oh. Right. Natasha nodded to her boss, before peeking to the side a bit to get a glimpse of Samantha's expression over the shoulders of the clothes bags. Antoinette's example had frozen Samantha solid for a moment, before she started squirming again, getting the dress up over her shoulders. The ancient Daeva was too damn smart.

A uniform was sexy, no doubt about that. Could be anything from a tool belt to a proper military outfit, something about a man wearing clothes that said 'I am self sufficient, skilled, and dedicated to a craft. I affect the world' crossed a line from simply being attractive, to straight-up arousing.

"But," Antoinette continued, "dare I say such a thing, I believe women do enjoy... 'showing off' more than men, at least in the realm of fashion. I know that personally, it will forever be a guilty pleasure of mine." With that, she withdrew another dress, and held it across her front as she looked at Natasha.

"Um... you could go t-to the ball naked, instead?" She stared at the flimsy thing, nothing more than hanging silver flaps that connected in loops to what couldn't have been anything more than a string around the neck, and another around the waist. It was like someone turned a sling bikini into a dress. Well, Antoinette would have looked amazing in it for sure, but it'd look better in a strip club, not a ball.

Shrugging, the tall woman put the dress back, and removed something a little more appropriate for a ball. A single piece, white, with a single loose strap that hooked around the neck, before dangling in front of her to connect at the waist. The skirt was similar, a loose flap for the front and another for the back. Naturally, you couldn't wear underwear with a dress like that.

"Very p-pretty, and, um... arousing for everyone at the ball, I'm sure."

"Merci. I do wish to indulge in a little flaunting, but I am not sure to what extent. Elaine will undoubtedly flaunt her body, brazenly, in a manner similar to Jennifer, and she will be both my guest and companion. I would prefer to wear something similar to what she wears."

"You d-don't know exactly what she'll wear?"

"Non. Elaine hopes to surprise me."

"How long have you known her?"

"Centuries."

"So, she says surprise, b-but you already know what she's going to wear, right? At least, can b-ballpark it."

Antoinette grinned at her. "Indeed. I know what she will do, and she knows what I will do in response. An ancient game we have played, but we are both too old to change our ways now." With a nod, Antoinette set the dress on a stool beside Natasha, and started digging through her infinite clothes for another. "She will wear something terribly seductive, brazen, and proceed to flaunt her beauty as she learns of what new Kindred have come to my city."