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Forgotten Desires (The Duchess & Mr. M)

She was rather Suprised when she saw the woman leave, she got up and walked over to him and followed after him closing the door behind her, she followed quickly after him then it hit her when the man spoke, she stopped and stared off into space just stuck dumb founded, she didn't move or say anything just looked at the door her hands shaking uncontrollably, she turned her gaze to him as her eyes started to water slightly, she closed them letting a tear fall from her left eye and down her neck. Now she knew why he wanted her here, she clinched her hands into fists tightly and opened the door slowly with one hand standing opposite of the duke , her face had turned and it wasn't her usual beautiful face, she looked rather scary and hurt at the same time, she had thought of many things she would say and do to him if she saw him again but nothing was popping up, she wanted so badly to make him suffer the way she did, but she just had to kind of a heart to do so.
 
He stood in the doorway, Charis beside him, while the man lounged on his belly on the bed, his back to them. "Poppet?" La Mort finally said, beginning to turn around, and the Duke was on him faster than an eyeblink. The human's undershirt tore as his body was dragged out of the bed and flung against the wall, cracking the plaster. He didn't have time to hit the ground before he was picked up again and slammed across the room, landing on top of the dresser. He was flipped from there clear to the other side of the bed, where he landed on the floor. The Duke put a foot on the back of his neck and pulled one arm out straight, lifting it up behind the man, putting great tension on his shoulder and pinning him to the ground.

"Listen," was the first thing the Duke said to La Mort. "She has things to tell you." He looked at Charis, and nodded.
 
She moved forward and she could of sworn she saw fear but that self centered smirk was playing on his lips, she watched him for a moment before bending down and sitting on her feet as she looked down at him " you......you have haunted me for to long, and i pity you, you better pray that he has mercy on your soul, i want to see that light leave your eyes just as i watched my masters leave his" she said before standing and looking at the duke for a moment before turning and walking to the side a bit letting him have room to get in his position.
 
He found himself grinning a bit, baring more of his teeth in a rictus grin of sheer predatory need. "You probably think you will somehow survive this," he murmured to the back of the man's head. "They all do."

A short movement of his arm snapped the man's shoulder, popping it out of joint with a wet crunch. La Mort's sudden scream intensified when the Duke picked him up bodily by the back of the neck and gripped his other wrist and just pulled, ruining his other shoulder. Then he entertained himself by seeing if he could break the ribs in more than one place at a time. It had been a while since he'd had the opportunity to enjoy himself fully without the need to keep the subject alive... his last slave, in fact, had been the last, and by that time, had been poor sport. La Mort, however, had started off young and healthy and smug. And soon he was mad with pain, and all too soon, the Duke knew it was time to end it. He bent the man's shattered body backward over the bed, forcing his head back, exposing his neck and forcing him to stare at Charis. The Duke exposed his fangs, ready to sink them into the man's flesh, but he paused, just on the point of doing so, and looked at his slave. He didn't know what he was looking for, approval or disgust or acceptance or fear, he didn't know. But he searched her face for some hint of what she was feeling at that moment.
 
She had a look of saddness mixed with anger as she watched, she then looked at the duke seeing him pause, that made her confused she moved forward and looked down at le mort, she placed her fingers over her lips gently and turned her eyes to the duke before nodding slowly, she wanted it to end, and she felt like a horrible person for thinking such awful things.
 
In a flash, the Duke plunged his fangs into La Mort's jugular, keeping the man's head forced back so he had to look toward Charis. The jugular was the ideal choice, because the arterial spray could be difficult to contain, and this would be a slower, more painful death. Which was important to him, because of the pain the evil man had caused.

So he drank, and La Mort gasped and trembled and stared, almost sightlessly, at Charis the whole time, until, finally, the light was extinguished, and he went limp there on the half-destroyed bed.
 
She watched and it was almost like a burden had been lifted off her shoulders, she looked down at the man that had haunted her for the past 6 months and just stared at his blank eyes, just as she had done with her old master, she turned her eyes up to look at the duke and watched him for a moment before walking over to him and reaching out with her finger and gently wiped away the drop of blood that was on his lips, she gazed at him for a moment before taking his hand slightly not sure if it was alright for her to do so, " lets leave...before his widow comes back" she said softly and looked at him with almost gentle eyes.
 
"Not widow," he intoned. "Paid paramour. His doxy for the night. A favored one, but his kind has no place for others in their hearts." He laid another coin on the cracked chest of drawers, and very swiftly gathered up La Mort's clothes and cloak, putting the body in the cloak and taking it with him. There was a canal only a block away, an estuary of the Thames, and spare cobblestones pried up from the street weighted the pockets of the cloak sufficiently. He disposed of the body, and the clothes, with a practiced efficiency.

Turning back to Charis, he gazed at her again. "Humans should not try to become monsters. They annoy those of us who are."
 
She looked at him and pulled the wrap a bit tighter, " i don't see you as a monster, you are just..." she tried to think of the proper word but the only word that came to mind was "misunderstood" she stopped and sighed softly letting steam fall from her mouth as she breathed, she wrapped her arms tighter around her to warm herself as she gazed around then turned her head up to look at the night sky and smiled widely. " i can't tell you how greatful i am, or my thoughts about you.... you might get angry with me again, i dont want to ruin the warmth that i fell right now."
 
He stepped close behind her, and... removed his overcoat. He didn't actually need it, he mostly wore it just to fit in with the humans; he could run around naked and be unaffected by the temperature. So at her mention of warmth, he placed his coat around her, a reasonably warm cloak to protect her from the snow.

"But I am a monster," he murmured at the back of her head, his voice gentle, almost sad. "It's been hundreds of years since I breathed as a man. I only survive by murder, whether swiftly or by inches... or drams, as the case may be. My kind allows no compassion, no sympathy for those who look as we do, but serve as our sustenance. I am become alien to mankind, and I hunt it, and thus, by very definition, I am a monster." He paused, his hands on her shoulders, gently, almost like an embrace. "But... I am pleased that you do not think of me so. I... I-I don't know why."
 
She smiled and looked down at the ground in front of her before moving her hand up and ran the tips of her fingers over his own fingers gently feeling how cold they really were, she breathed softly and turned her head to look back at him " please don't be sad, and do not talk of such things, one of us has to be the sad one and it can't be you" she smiled slightly trying to cheer him up if at all possible and brought his hand down and kissed his hand gently, " im sure you are tired, lets get back" she said softly, she didn't turn around the entire time he was behind her, maybe that was best for that moment, she dout there would be another like it, so she just kept the image in her head and locked it away for a later viewing.
 
"I'm not sad," he started to protest, his brows knitting in confusion, but he relented and let it go, and just led her back to the main thoroughfare so he could flag another cab. He had no concerns about the evening; La Mort's doxy had been paid more than a year's wages for her silence, and the body wouldn't appear for weeks, possibly never. The only ones who would know what happened were himself and Charis.

He sat in the carriage with her, still gazing out the window, and tried to sort through his feelings. He felt... happy. Not at what he'd done to La Mort; that had, at some level, been merely necessary, and while he had a grim enjoyment of it, it wasn't the kind of thing that lingered. No, he felt a satisfaction from a successful hunt, and from... from lifting the weight off his slave's shoulders. That was odd. He gazed at his hand where she kissed it. Why did it tingle? It was a purely psychological reaction, there was no physical cause, but yet he felt touched by it.

This was by far the most confounding slave he'd ever owned. He ought to just gently and quickly snap her neck here in the carriage, when she was most happy and satisfied, send her off in a positive manner, before his own monstrousness ruined the regard she felt for him. If she could die at any time, this would be a good moment. Yet his hands just sat in his lap, not moving. Odd.
 
She was quite content in the carriage and felt her head lean against the walls of it, she was quite happy at the moment and she held onto it, she looked at him from the corrner or her eyes and saw him looking at the hand she kissed, she wondered what was going through his mind, but she figured that he would tell her if he wanted to, and the fact that he wasn't saying anything told her to not speak, she turned her eyes outside of the window watching the snow fall gently, it was as if they hadn't gone and killed someone this evening, like the world has moved on with out a care in the world, she reached up and pulled her hair down ruffling it up and letting it spread over her shoulders and extend down to grace her bust, she breathed softly and looked to him now " i did... enjoy this time with you" she said softly watching him with her eyes before nodding to him and looking back out the window with out another word, she also wondered if she was going to far in speaking her mind to much, she decided to keep her mouth shut until he asked her a question.
 
He gazed at her, and tried smiling a bit, just curving his lips without showing his teeth. It had been a while since he'd done such a thing for less than wicked motivations, and it felt... it felt good, but odd. Then the carriage stopped. "We're here," he said simply, paid the driver, and actually held her hand to help her out onto the curb. It was an automatic instinct, but he didn't know where it came from.

They were back in the tunnels, halfway back to his lair, when he paused and turned to her. "I'll have you know, I'm not actually a nice man," he said, sounding, if anything, petulant. "I'm not even a man at all. I do wish you'd stop being... pleased with me. I don't know what to make of it." This last was spoken almost to himself, in a confused and cross voice, though he showed no rage, really.
 
She would smile slightly when he helped her out of the carriage, before he closed the door to the cellar she paused and looked around, like a one last look before going back down, who knew when the next time she would see the outside world again, it all depended on him, when they were walking she was suprised when he stopped and turned around to look at her, she was also suprised at him words and this confused her, she raised her hand up and rubbed her lips with her fingers gently while looking at him, trying to make sense of it " So...you are unhappy that i am pleased with you?" she watched him before bringing her arm down letting her fingers lace together," so you want me to... hate you instead, i don't understand, if you wanted me to hate you or dislike you then what was the purpose of tonight, the looks the smile, the kindness, it all does not make sense "

She moved her hands up snaking her fingers into her hair and letting her head hang down a bit as she tried to go through the events that happened since she had been in his care, he had taken care of her while she was sick, which the only reason she could think of for that is he spent good money on her and didn't want her to die from a simple illness, but he had used her for sex which the first time didn't last long, but the second time, that damn contraption was not nessisary, but after he had fed from her he had changed, she wasn't sure what to make of it ether, he needed to pick one a stick with it so that she wouldn't take those jumps with him and be crushed like she is now.

" i am sorry" she closed her eyes keeping her head down a bit " i am sorry that i have confused you in anyway and have cause you conflictions with yourself " she let her hands fall from her hair and removed the warm and heavy coat which later she regret because of the chill that surrounded her afterwards, she came close to him and handed him the coat back, " it is not my place to accept such things".
 
"You've given no offense," he said softly, refusing to take back the coat. "My motives for what I did are that it felt like the thing to do. It felt right, in a way. It's not your fault that I am confused, not directly. I'm just... unaccustomed to the sensation. It has been years... decades... possibly centuries since I had any doubt about my purpose and place in this world."

He took a step back, away from her, and then turned to lead the way back to the lair, leaving her with the coat. He kept speaking, though, half-turning to address her as he walked forward. "You know something of what I am. I am to be a terror of mankind, I am to feed on their fear as well as their blood. I am to be mythic and horrifying. It is... disquieting to me when I do not wish to be so to you. But only because not being so is so foreign to me after all this time. It is like speaking a language you once knew but have forgotten. And yet I worry at what a mis-pronunciation could wreak."
 
She listened quietly and watched him while she held the coat in her arms following close behind him " maybe you shouldn't push those feelings away or ignore them, it is not healthy to act like you are a monster, you have to have the balance other wise overloads will happen" she looked at him and brushed her hair back and saw the entrance to his home getting closer " some things are better when they are not forced, like me for example, when i am forced to do somthing i perform poorly but when i do it on my own i am quite good there is alot of things that you do not know about me" she walked easily and stopped at the door way and watched him still.
 
He paused at the door, sliding his massive key into the lock. He looked back at her, his eyes hooded. "I do not act. I am a monster, in fact. I've gone for hundreds of years without feeling those emotions. It's not that I am forcing the emotions away, it's that I do not remember what to do."

He turned the massive lock, opening the heavy doors. "But you are correct; I do not know everything there is to know about you." He swung the door wide and gestured for her to enter, inviting her to return "home." "I look forward to finding out."
 
Watched him and paused for a moment before stepping back inside his home and placing the coat on a hanger as well as her shawl before bending down and taking her shoe off and holding them in her hands looking back at him, she had decided that she wasn't going to say anything more, we was set in his ways and she couldn't change his mind , it could be worse tho, he could not have those feelings and be slapping her around the library, she was thankful that he didn't do so, she walked away from him feeling rather hungry, she looked towards the door and then at him before moving over to it and opened it up heading for the kitchen, the night was still young they hadn't spent to much time on the surface and she wasn't that tired, she would of liked for him to sit with her and maybe talk, but she didn't think he would and she wasn't going to ask.
 
He watched her a moment as she entered, and gazed at him while taking off her shoes, then when she turned away, he turned to close and bar the door, closing the drapery curtain that concealed it from view within the library. He followed her, afterward, into the kitchen, and sat at the table and watched her bustle and fix herself something to eat. He was feeling... not restless, not aggressive, not hungry, all for the first time in a long time. So long, in fact, that it took him many minutes to realize the sensation he was experiencing was a certain sense of peacefulness.

So he sat and watched her, and when she sat with him to eat, he drew in breath to speak, then paused a long time, longer than would have been comfortable for a human, thinking over what he should say, how he should phrase it. "That collection of short stories you were reading earlier," he finally said, softly, "that was one of my favorites a few years ago. I thought the author really captured how it feels to be in that quandary..."

It wasn't much, and it wasn't entirely personal, but it was an attempt at conversation. He felt she'd offered him enough understanding and compassion, even in the face of his blind, angry rejection of same earlier, that she deserved at least an attempt to connect.
 
She had fixed herself a small sandwich and was about to take a bite when he spoke, she watched him for a moment before setting it down on her plate and looked at him for just as long as he did her, remembering the book he spoke of but was confused as to why he was making conversation, " i am really fond of the author, i had never seen that book before and i was curious, was it one of his earlier copies?" this was a normal conversation and it was odd since it was coming from him but she did like the fact that he was trying at a relationship with her, tho she wouldn't really call it that, maybe just an understanding for the other person's needs and wants, " what others are your favorites?" she asked before ripping a piece off her sandwich and ate it slowly while watching him.
 
Thus began a new routine. He would awaken her, and escort her to the kitchen area, where he would bid her goodbye. No longer did he lock the doors, though he would seem mildly discomfited if she was not in the kitchen area when he came back several hours later (and she never saw him come through the doors, when it was just himself; he would simply return to the rooms somehow). Afterward, he would sit with her and talk about books, and occasionally about history (on which he had a ... unique perspective). Sometimes they would repair to the library, but he was also willing to just sit in the kitchen.

He seemed stiff, awkward, when just talking. He wouldn't move much, and he would consider his statements for what might be considered a lengthy time before making them, so conversations tended to be slow if he was expected to make much of a contribution. It was particularly unusual when he would inhale to speak before considering, and just hold the air in his lungs while he thought. It took him a while to get back into the pattern of actually taking breaths for conversation. And while it was odd for him, while it seemed strange and uncomfortable and frustrating... he found he did enjoy it, and he enjoyed it more as the nights went on.
 
After a month of this new routine, she decided one day that he had been so kind to her and what had she done to show him that she was greatful, she thought about this one night as she sat in bed running her fingers over the spine of the latest book she had been reading , for further conversation topics mostly between him and her, she decided that maybe a bath would be a good idea, she smiled at her devious little thought and got up knowing he was in bed and went into the kitchen to turn on the boiler to make sure the water was warm come morning time.

When he came to get her he would find that she wasn't there and the kitchen door was open, she was testing the water in the tub feeling that i was just right, she heard him and turned to find him looking for her, she smiled and came to him letting her hands stay infront of her " i have a request that i you will enjoy, i hope any way" she paused looking at him before starting again " come and... take a bath with me" she said quietly reaching up and pushing her hair away from her face and waiting for his answer.
 
He was frozen in the doorway. It was unprecedented behavior for a slave to initiate any sort of intimacy, and he was utterly at a loss as to how to react to it. "A bath? But... why?" was all he could come up with.

He was indifferent as to whether or not he bathed. But he was finding the idea of being close to her -- with her a willing participant -- was rather gaining in appeal as he thought about it.
 
She blushed heavily and looked down " well don't you take baths to clean yourself?" she asked looking up at him now, maybe this wasn't such a good idea any more, she backed off a bit and fumbled her fingers slightly " maybe it wasn't such a good idea..." she said quietly looking back to the bathroom.
 
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