Tristessa hadn’t gone to bed until late – probably about an hour and a half or so after she departed from Marcellus’s room. She had been on the computer, going over payroll and the such, making sure everything was in check. She had called the receptionist at the desk to check on the activity during her shift.

It was about eight in the morning when she was up, wide awake on the accord of her own, inner alarm clock. She tended to wake up around this time every morning, no matter how late she went to bed. It was up to her as to whether or not she decided to go back to sleep, which was very rare.

However, this was not one of those mornings. She couldn't afford to sleep around the house. After all, she had a new slave that she needed to be alert to for whenever he woke up. She didn't bother to change out of her red top and panties, and as Tristessa passed Marcellus's room, however, she found that he was still out like a light, sleeping like a baby.She was as quiet as a mouse, leaving him a clean pair of pants on the foot of the bed before slipping out of the room noiselessly.

Tristessa then checked on her other sleeping slave, Dana, before making her way downstairs to the kitchen. She turned on the coffee maker and set it up, then went into the freezer to pull out a Jimmy Dean's chicken biscuit to heat up in the microwave. While she waited, she hopped on her laptop, propping it on the center island in the kitchen and scanning through her e-mail quickly.

There was nothing of importance - just a reminder that she really needed to find a good spam blocker to prevent all the porn and advertisements for Viagra and lottery from her spam folder. She didn't need any of that stuff.

Although an occasional, well-produced porno wasn't bad once in a while.

Tristessa remained focused, her intentions were to check up on the hotel. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number to the front desk of the resort. "Lindsey," she said, her voice low so as to hopefully not disturb any sleeping slaves in her house, "I'm considering someone for employment..."

&& ATTIRE
&& INSPIRATION: "Democracy" by FGFC820

Marcellus awoke from his sleep feeling completely rested after last nights events that he slept after. A man always got his best sleep after a release or so he'd heard from someone before, and he could attest that they were absolutely correct many times over. Opening his eyes, Marcellus found himself staring over at the day bed that he had had the great pleasure of tasting his mistress first hand just last night, making her cum with the combined work of his fingers and mouth. Just thinking about it made him excited, but found his cock already completely erect once he actually took to noticing more of his surroundings and coming out of his thoughts. Lightly caressing his scalp with his right hand, Marcellus began to reflect on just what his dreams had been about, but he could find no accurate description of them on his tongue, but whatever he'd been dreaming about whilst sleep had his cock quite hard.

Climbing ou of bed, Marcellus then noticed a pair of jeans at the foot of his bed, left by his mistress no doubt. How long ago had she visited his bedroom to drop off these pair of jeans, and from the looks of it, wanted him to go commando with them as she left no pair of underwear with them whether by mistake or on purpose remained yet to be seen. Taking hold of them, Marcellus nevertheless slipped into them, finding that they fit him well, and left just enough space for them not to be too tight in the way they hugged his ass or his balls. Now dressed, Marcellus headed out of his bedroom, his bare feet making next to no sounds against the floor as he treaded through the large home, figuring that the best place to look for his mistress, besides her bedroom, was downstairs in the kitchen or something.

Thankfully his first guess was right, as he came downstairs the smell of something began to tickle his nose, and make his stomach rumble just slightly. Briefly he wondered if it was his mistress cooking food for them to eat? A mistress who cooks for her slaves, and sucks dick like she does? My God, I'm in heaven... Marcellus thought to himself, inwardly biting his bottom lip as he turned a corner and entered the kitchen, finding his mistress in the room, on the phone which prompted him to keep his mouth closed until she finished with her conversation.

The smell of the chicken biscuits filled the room and part of the adjacent living room. Tristessa always loved the smell, but she wanted to finish this phone call before she indulged in her hunger. Three biscuits cooked away as she spoke into the phone, but another voice had distracted her momentarily from the conversation. She paused, smiling faintly as she heard Marcellus’s thoughts from outside of the room.

Then, I might as well be your god, she sent the thought back to him, though whether he was gifted enough to hear it or not, she wasn’t sure. She carried on her conversation now, but kept her responses vague. Of course, she was talking about hiring Marcellus, but this was only an idea right now. There were guys that worked at the Pleasure Resort, but none of which had really impressed her yet. Maybe if she brought her new slave into the equation, that could change.

“Alright,” she said, nodding her head once she had concluded she was ready to end the conversation. “I’ll get back to you on that. Okay. Bye.” She hung up the phone then, setting it down on the counter and rising to her feet. As she turned her head, she saw that Marcellus was standing at the doorway, quiet and seeming to wait for her to finish. She sent him a smile, seeing he had chosen to slip on the pants she had lent him. Tristessa made her way to the microwave, pulling out the finished biscuits and setting them all on separate plates. She filled up two glasses with orange juice, and placed them on the center island.

“Dig in,” she said, sitting down. If Dana woke up to join them, that was fine and dandy. If not, then that was her loss. She would probably sleep in, but Tristessa wouldn’t hold it against her. “Did you sleep well, Marcellus?”

&& ATTIRE
&& INSPIRATION: "Bitches" by Mindless Self Indulgence

To be honest at the sound of Tristessa's voice in his head, responding to his thoughts, Marcellus visibly flinched and looked around even though he had clearly seen his mistress sitting no more than a few feet infront of hm on the telephone. So, you have been reading my mind? Marcellus continued to think, straightening himself up while realizing just how silly he mustve been looking. Even though a supernatural being, Marcellus' mind was still somewhat succeptable to the powers of his mistress. While he could hear her talking to him, he didn't possess the neccesary mental abilities to converse with her through the same powers, not unless she was listening in of course. At least now his former thoughts of wondering just how she had kept seemingly reading his mind before could be put to rest with confirmation, but then his cheeks began to flush as he came to a realization. Oh boy, just think of all the sexual stuff Ive been thinking about her since she brought me here. Is she able to see and hear everything I think about? This was just embarassing, no matter what kind of demon he was.

Once Tristessa put the phone down, Marcellus continued into the kitchen to be with her, smiling as he came up toward her, taking a seat down on one of the stools. "Good morning, Mistress. Thank you for the breakfast." He spoke, his voice low yet high enough that his century old English accent remained apparent on his tonuge. It was then Marcellus' blue eyes took notice to the third chicken biscuit that she had set upon the table. If his memory served correctly, Tristessa had brought home a female some time ago, so that must've been whom the third buscuit was for. Immediately he figured she still were sleeping, he hadn't got up too long ago himself so it was entirely possible for her to still be sleeping.

Reaching out to grab one of the two glasses of orange juice set out upon the table, Marcellus pulled it toward him just as Tristessa questioned as to how he slept last night, after their time together. "I slept absolutely brilliant thank you, and how about yourself?" Flipping the question, Marcellus took a slow sip of the delicious juice while his eyes watched her, gazing very briefly over her figure but quickly diverted them down to the food she'd set on a plate for him. Just looking at it, his stomach rumbled slightly at the simple sight of it, seems he was hungrier than he thought. Picking it up, Marcellus bit into it, sighing in delight as he began to chew it slowly, savoring the flavor with every chew.

So, you have been reading my mind? she heard the thought return to her. Tristessa's rouge lips formed a half-smile, but she said nothing. It hadn't taken long for Marcellus's embarrassment to show itself, but it didn't bother her any. She already knew of the erotic thoughts that had been running through her slave's head, even prior to their affair in the previous night. He really had nothing to be embarrassed about. What was said was said, and what was done was done.

He thanked her for the breakfast as he sat down, nonetheless. Tristessa couldn't really say that what she had prepared was necessarily a full breakfast, but it was what she was in the mood for at the time, and she wasn't hungry enough for a big meal.

"I slept absolutely brilliant thank you, and how about yourself?"

"I slept fine," she answered, glad to hear her slave was fully refreshed. She sipped on her orange juice, watching Marcellus as he ate for a moment before finally choosing to speak again. "I have a proposal for you, Marcellus," she said. "But I must need your promise that what you will hear in the next few minutes will not spread to anyone. Do I make myself clear?" Tristessa did not usually use a stern tone with her slaves, but with this topic in particular, she felt very strongly about it. She could not allow her reputation to be put at risk because of a loose tongue.

&& ATTIRE
&& INSPIRATION: "Yes You Can" by Jewel

Although true that the food provided for him wasn't exactly a full mean, Marcellus was more than happy with what he was given. It wouldn't be his place after all to demand Tristess to cook him a big breakfast, that'd only serve to get him on her bad side and punished thoroughly of course. God only knew what that would involve. Marcellus didn't even want to entertain such thoughts so he quickly cast them out of his mind just as quickly as they entered. While he relaxed, sipping at his orange juice, spinning it in the glass while he wasn't drinking from his cup, Marcellus listened to the words she spoke to him, somewhat upset she hadn't slept just as well as he did last night. But of course, he knew nothing about her having stayed up after their encounter with each other last night.

A proposal? This already sounded interesting. In response to her sudden stern tone of voice, Marcellus set his cup down and nodded in agreement. "You do, Mistress." He voiced aloud, wondering just what it was that she wanted to tell him. In truth, he didn't understand why she wanted him to keep whatever it was she was going to discuss with him between the two of them, It isn't like I've got anyone to tell anyway, he figured before taking another bite of his buscuit, chewing slowly while he waited for words from Tristessa to explain just what it was that was on her mind. It was at times like this when Marcellus wish he had the power of telepathy, not because he didn't like surprises or anything, but he kinda began to worry that she may ask him something entirely off the wall. He hoped that wasn't the case.

Sure, it was easy for anyone to make a promise, but keeping it was an entirely different story. The last thing Tristessa wanted was her business being shut down because of the wrong people finding out. More and more, government was getting corrupt, and there would come a time where prostitution was no longer a crime, but right now, it was still a big controversy, and the Pleasure Resort could be eliminated.

Its loopholes didn't make it invincible, after all, and that was why Marcellus's answer wasn't really enough for the mistress, especially when she heard his following thoughts.

Very true, but that changed nothing, and the fact that she wouldn't have anyone to tell wasn't going to last long, if he accepted the proposal, which was why Tristessa frowned in response to this. "I need your word, Marcellus," she said, her voice quiet, but still possessing the same sternness from before. "What do you promise?"

&& ATTIRE
&& INSPIRATION: Family Guy

Marcellus stared at his mistress as she kept her stern tone with him while continuing to question his word that he'd just given her. Apparently, it wasn't enough for her, and she needed a more concrete promise from him to confirm that he'd keep whatever was spoken between them in the next few minutes a complete secret. As a Knight, Marcellus word meant everything to him, an oath taken was not an oath to be forgotten or taken lightly. To do so was dishonorable, and that would never become Marcellus' intention if he could so help it. So when she asked him what he promised, Marcellus took a moment to think about what he could offer her that she didn't already have being his mistress.

"I promise my life, if I do so repeat whatever it is you wish to tell me to another soul, you may.. do away with me, Mistress." Hopefully, that would be enough for her, as Marcellus didn't know just what else he could possibly offer her. Perhaps even his life wouldnt have been enough for her, seeing as she already held that in her hands being his owner. She could kill him if she wanted to, but of course would be throwing away how ever much money she'd spent to purchase him, and he didn't exactly see that happening. Besides, Marcellus felt that he was a good investment on her behalf. If it was protection she needed, Marcellus was an excellent choice, well versed in many forms of combat past and modern. If it was pleasure she desired of him, Marcellus' experience in the field, as well as abilities as an Incubus should prove more than enough to supply an efficient amount of pleasure for her. Marcellus began to get anxious as to what she wanted to speak with him about... if it was this important that she had to use a stern voice with him, then it was definitely worth hearing no doubt.

When it came to any other people, slaves or not, Tristessa was not very quick to trust someone. She was a very cautious woman, and for good reason. In days like these, there were so many dishonest people. Maybe it was for an honorable reason, maybe not, but nonetheless, the master needed her slave's word.

"I promise my life, if I do so repeat whatever it is you wish to tell me to another soul, you may.. do away with me, Mistress."

That was enough for her, and in fact, it was actually better than what she had been looking for. It wasn't vague, and she knew exactly what he was promising. What more, if he went against his word now, she had every right to hold it against him. Well, even if he hadn't given his word, Tristessa still felt she'd have every right, but she was a woman who preferred to be fair, even to a slave.

"Good boy," she said with a purr, rising to her feet and leaving her biscuit only half eaten. She walked over to stand behind him, resting her hands on his shoulders and giving them a squeeze. "What you should know about me first, Marcellus, is my reputation," she started. "I own a business called the Pleasure Resort. It is one that would cause a lot of controversy right now, if the wrong people knew about it, but within the vast number of patrons that go there, it is a thriving establishment.

"You can call it prostitution, if you will, but it's a little more than a brothel. Customers are welcome to stay the night there, and just like any other hotel, we provide food, merchandise, and anything else we can offer our customers within reason. If they want a gay man just to give a nice foot rub, we can give them that. If they want a girl dressed like a French maid to deliver them food, then it's done." She looked up at the ceiling, smiling faintly before she pulled away from Marcellus, sitting her rear on the edge of the kitchen counter. "It's not always about sex, and we try all we can to broaden our services so that our customers remember more than just the sexual experience when they leave."

She then stopped, not wanting to dig too much further. After all, there was a reason she was telling him all of this. "Now, I tell you this because I believe you would be a fine addition to the resort's staff." Most mistresses probably would not approve of the idea of her slave sexually pleasing someone else, but Tristessa thought of it differently.

"Of course, no matter what women you satisfy, you should know whose priorities will come first," she hinted, gliding her hand over his inner thigh.

&& ATTIRE
&& INSPIRATION: "Hate This" by Grendel, "A Minute To Midnight" by God Module

As Tristessa praised Marcellus once his words sunk in after reaching her ears, her Knight relaxed with a simple exhale of breath. For a moment there, by the look on her face, he was going to guess that what he'd offered her wasn't going to be enough. Briefly, he wondered just what was the lowest she'd possibly accept in offers from him to keep this secret. Though she held his life in hand anyway just by holding the title as his owner, Marcellus asked himself if she even could kill him. Sure, there were ways to do so, as even demons could die, but would she bring herself to do so? He hoped not, perhaps she could deliver some sort of cruel punishment instead? Oh well, it was too late to take back what he'd said now, she'd agreed to it.

Feeling her soft hands touch upon his broad shoulders put the Knight at rest somewhat, since she'd brought him home, Marcellus found that he'd enjoyed the feel of her hands touching him. It didn't matter where. His thoughts eased back to just yesterday with the shower the two had shared together after sharing a meal with one another. The memory alone of seeing her gorgeous figure dripping with beads of water excited the Incubus something fierce. Though he quickly bit his bottom lip to try and remain focused on what was going on in the present, and that was listening to her word for word. He remembered her telling him that she did own a resort, to which he found surprising at first words of it. As she continued his eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion, wondering just why it was that she was saying such things. Then it hit him, something 'crooked' had to be going on beneath the surface of the business.

Listening intently as she began to give her Knight a gist of just what the Pleasure Resort was all about, Marcellus remained seated with an expressionless face. In truth, he didn't know just what kind of expression he was to wear when absorbing this kind of information. To be completely honest, it sounded like a brilliant business. Though the need to be kept from the authorities remained ever present, Marcellus didn't doubt that many were still drawn to the place for the many services that they offered. But as she said herself, it's not always about the sex. Sometimes... people just want to be waited on hand and foot by others who would move at their beck and call.

His blue eyes came to turn toward her as she moved to sit beside him, seating herself down on the counter top. His eyes found hers, and wordlessly asked just why she was telling him this. He hadn't yet connected the dots to her true reason. But he didn't have to wait long before she answered him. "You... want me to work there, for you?" Marcellus asked, somewhat shocked. Calming himself, Marcellus began to think that perhaps she wanted him elsewhere in the business. Staff usually meant one of the more important employees instead of just a worker. Perhaps he wouldn't have to sleep with someone, not that he minded it, because he didn't in the slightest. The inner voice of the Incubus inside of him was thrilled at the opportunity to be able to fuck other women besides his mistress, even though God knew he'd be happy with just her for the rest of his life.

Her next words registered in his ears just as her hand glided over his inner thigh, forcing his eyes down momentarily to watch as she got ever closer to his core that he longed for her to expose to the atmosphere for her to toy with as she pleased. Biting his bottom lip a bit harder, Marcellus turned his eyes back up toward hers as he returned her gaze. "Of course I do. Always yours, M'lady." If she were reading his mind, Tristessa would know just how bad he wanted her right now. Surely she could see everything he was envisioning happening between them, and perhaps that would inspire her to progress things. Or perhaps even give him proper permission to take the initiative this morning. He'd probably just die if she did so.

The surprise that Marcellus expressed caused Tristessa a small bit of amusement. She wasn't sure at first if he was just alarmed, or if he was honored at all. She hoped he was pleased, even if it wasn't her job to ensure it. This was a big thing she was asking of him, and she wanted him to take full advantage of the opportunity, and to do his best.

Of course, she also wanted her slave fully aware that there were more important things, and that was her. Sure, there would be girls, either beautiful or not, that might want his services, and she wouldn't tell him that, but she did want him conscious of the fact that there was no greater partner for him than his own master.

She smiled as he answered in understanding and obedience, and she could very easily read into his desire. Tristessa even felt it boiling inside of him. The corner of her ruby lips quirked into a grin, and even with the promiscuous images that she could see in his head, she pulled away.

She crossed the kitchen to the fridge, purposely holding off to tease her slave. "I don't doubt that you'll do great as an employee at the resort," she said to him. "I was thinking along the lines of security, perhaps. How does that sound?" She pulled out the large gallon of orange juice to refill their glasses.

&& ATTIRE
&& INSPIRATION: "Skin" by Cylab

With her hand resting on his inner thigh, Marcellus of course was thinking that she had plans to make moves on him to intiate a little intimate time between the two of them, which he found himself longing for. Part of him wanted to lunge forward and capture her lips in a passionate kiss, not wanting to even allow her the chance to pull away from him to tease him, but the other part of Marcellus remained in control of his body and kept the Knight from acting on his inner urges. Thankfully, he had a better sense of judgement within him. If he hadn't been so self-restrained, Marcellus wouldve easily pulled Tristessa against him and kissed her. Perhaps some time in the future his mistress would grant him permission to intiate encounters with her, what an honor that would be once bestowed upon him. He could only dream of the day.

But alas, her hand pulled away from between his thighs, and she retreated from him across the kitchen to stand infront of the refridgerator. Of course Marcellus pouted at the lost of contact between the two of them, wanting so bad for her hand to unfasten his jeans and pull his cock out for her to have her way with. Biting his bottom lip, Marcellus finished what was left of his biscuit trying to get him mind off of sexing up his mistress, otherwise he'd go crazy. As he chewed up his food, her voice sounded asking how he felt about being a member of the security team at the resort. Security was intially Marcellus' field of expertise having become a Knight before he'd even reached adulthood. Of course that was adulthood in today's sense of the word, because centuries ago they had considered him an adult much sooner than 18 years of age. "That sounds brilliant," Marcellus answered Tristessa as she finished refilling his glass of orange juice, having swallowed the remainder of his biscuit before he opened his mouth to speak.

"did those at the auction ever inform you before I became a slave, I was a Knight?" Marcellus didn't want to sound as if he were bragging, so he said nothing more about his status of Knighthood, especially nothing about just how skilled he were. Hopefully his status as a Knight would reinforce her decision to place him upon her security staff. To put his original purpose to usage would be a very welcomed course of action for Marcellus, as it'd been so long since he'd even acted in terms of defending anyone. It almost seemed as if his vast knowledge was going to waste never being exercised. Reaching for his glass, Marcellus drank a healthy portion of his refilled glass of orange juice, his eyes falling upon his mistress wondering if there were any sort of... tests that would be necessary for him to take before joining the staff, or if she just needed to add him to the roster before it became official. Either way he was entirely confident of his ability to make her proud.

One thing that this mistress took a great deal of pleasure in was teasing people. She got one hell of a thrill out of it, almost as if she could feel off of the desire like most incubi and succubi could. Of course, she also felt it, but it was that sense of control over the person; his satisfaction was in her hands.

As Tristessa walked away, she could sense the disappointment and the pout, almost as though she had eyes in the back of her head. He also seemed to have a struggle with himself, as though he was trying to shove away his desire and focus. This was why Tristessa continued to speak, to help distract him, even though the tension would still linger in the air, no doubt.

He answered in approval, only to continue by explaining his life before servitude. Tristessa looked over at him, raising an eyebrow as he said he was a Knight. By this, she was a little surprised. "Are we speaking a medieval sort of Knight?" she replied, wanting to know more about her slave's past, now that it was brought up.

If that was the case, then he was perfect for the job that she had in mind for him. The people that worked there, especially the women, needed protection more than anything else. Much like any regular prostitute found on the street, they were easy targets for rape, and that was where Tristessa had zero-tolerance, whether the offender was a paying customer or not. Her boys and girls still had feelings, and while they were in her resort, they were her responsibility.

&& ATTIRE
&& INSPIRATION: "Orion" by Metallica

The look Tristessa presented him with upon turning around to face him told Marcellus everything he needed to know. They hadn't informed her of any of the information they'd had upon Marcellus other than his vocal-hypnosis ability, and perhaps his vampiric touch. Thinking back to just last night when the two of them shared a shower together just before a sexual encounter, Tristessa hadn't been the least bit alarmed with him putting his hands upon her naked body like he had. Was she not cautious of his ability to feed at the mere touch of a sexually aroused being, or had they not informed her of it to begin with? Slowing his course of thought, Marcellus refocused on her as she began to question just what kind of Knight he was talking about. She'd hit the nail directly on the head in her first assumption, and Marcellus nodded in response to assure and confirm her thoughts.

"Exactly such." He told her biting his bottom lip slightl before he took another sip of his orange juice, savoring the flavor as much as he could before swallowing it down. Setting the glass down upon the counter top, the former Knight watched his mistress for any sort of other questions that she possibly had for him, but before she decided to speak up again and question him, he decided to indulge a bit of his life to her.

[color=red]"I became a Knight around the age of 19, one of the youngest in our entire army, hand picked by the King himself. I was a Knight for only a few years before we were attacked by this fearsome dragon. The King would assemble a team of his finest soldiers, with me amongst them to lead as we attempted to make a preemptive strike upon our foe while it rested in its cave. Though it was all the more aware of our attack and slaughtered all of the men who attacked, save for myself."[/color Looking down at the counter top, Marcellus began to remember the names of those who had fallen to the creature's might fighting alonside him. Leaving out what happend after and how he was still here to tell the story, Marcellus remained silent and downed the rest of his juice in memory of them. He would decide against telling her the rest of the story, he doubted she wanted to hear of a woman in his life.

Being far too curious about Marcellus's life now, the last thing Tristessa felt right now was pride in providing a correct assumption. Her mind reeled now, mostly because she had always been a little curious about the days of Camelot and the medieval era in itself. She could never fully explain why, but it always intrigued her. What was merely myth? What was truth within written history?

Many people mentioned dragons, and when Marcellus had echoed the myth, Tristessa's jaw almost dropped. He couldn't be serious, could he? Dragons weren't real, were they?

Then again, who was she to say that they were or weren't? With all the other mysterious creatures she had witnessed, what was to say that dragons didn't exist? Anything could be out there. After all, her slave was a demon of sexual appetite.

Supposedly, according to Marcellus's story, all of the men in the army except for him were slaughtered. It sounded too unlikely, but nonetheless, she was curious, mostly of how this tale could pursue. "How?" she asked, leaning her hip against the kitchen counter. "What made you so special?" Perhaps the way she worded it might have made her sound a little snooty, but she wasn't worried about sounding polite.

&& ATTIRE
&& INSPIRATION: "Wytches" by Inkubus Sukkubus