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saiting-master
An anonymous commission staring two smexy vampires, though I'm sure it's very obvious which of the two is the more dominant figure. This was both a challenge and very rewarding to draw, I so love vampires, and honestly, I need to draw more domineering males haha. Hopefully it looks clear and crisp, the original was a bit too large and I had to minimize it a little, hopefully it doesn't detract from it at all. Here's a snippet I was given for inspiration and character creation direction, enjoy!
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Entering the bedchamber, Malia cast her eyes downwards automatically. In all her years she still found it difficult to look her Master in the eyes.
When she was warm and living, his power and magnetism was strong, his physical presence drew her forwards. There was something about him that dominated everything in the room like a burning candle in a dark space. When he entered a chamber, there was no doubt that he was the Master and owner of all inside.
Now, after her turning, he was irresistible. His ageless, timeless appearance could place his mortal age at anything between late-thirties and mid-fifties, assuming clean living. His lined skin marked by effects other than weather or the sun, for although Malia could withstand the stellar rays of day or the reflected illumination of halflight for short periods quite comfortably the Master could not abide them at all.
Not all vampires were created equal, not even equals with their creator.
"Come closer," the Master said, voice neutral. "Let me see you."
At least a full octave lower than most males in Sielia, his baritone fitted his style. It was a deep voice that carried and was rarely raised. The Master made it a point never to repeat himself - you were there to listen to him and you would pay close attention - if you missed what he had to say, the consequences of that were your responsibility.
If he had been powerful to her before her death, he was sovereign to her now. She only fed to feed him, the blood she took from others and the power gained was magnified when passed into him, her maker and Master. As she got closer, she could feel parts of herself being exposed, her very soul-energy sparking across the gap. His desire to feed, his arousal at her body and form subconsciously became her unquenchable need to please him - without deliberate thought.
Shrugging herself out of the straps of her dress, Malia obeyed. The garment concertinaed down to the floor quickly. Letting the Master 'see her' meant to disrobe. The corset she wore was tight, her bosom contained but without much spare capacity for more.
The ensemble was exceptionally flattering on her, but would have been considered boorish in her life to be worn by an aristocrat outside of the bedroom and harlotry if the gentleman inside was not her husband. It took a lot, day after day, to wear it under her dresses and clothes when she was ordered to his private sanctum to sate him, although the petty discomforts of its odd cut now decades old become the new normal.
She was of course barefoot, although she had adored the hourglass heels of her station - and how they supplemented her height - in life, such stiletto wood could never have been allowed to be worn in the presence of her Master. Her last pair of expensive shoes had fallen to irreparable pieces after the first few year of her state, now she made do with servants flats.
Malia stalked closer, the white-silk stockings slithering as she took catwalk steps towards the bed, clips secured the stockings high on her legs from a peerless white garter fastened above her ladies smallclothes as filigree and laced as her most splendid, long-lost ball gowns.
Everything in the set was matching and was a perfect white to set off against her slightly olive skin. This in itself was hard to arrange, thought rarely disrespectful to her face, she received little help from the servants. It was not as if her station gave her a dedicated staff or a status to the maids and stewards.
Showing she had her father's squandering spirit in her first month she had twice thrust an armful of laundry into the hands of a linen-maid accompanied by a pleading, begging request to wash it saw them disappear never to be returned. That had been half her wardrobe gone, from the start.
Replacement clothes were even harder to acquire, so Malia had to take trips to the servants washrooms and do it herself in those rare moments not locked in her chambers or warming the Masters cold bones and cold bed with her freshly restored body. Nights spent darning or scrubbing with lyes and soaps in tepid water had made her appreciate her former life and being alive for it.
The lingerie had been a gift from the Gods, or from a careless visiting noblewoman, though he rarely felt ardor - when he did however, such passions had to be satisfied by Malia as another of her unrewarded tasks - the Master did enjoy to watch and look, he allowed his eyes to roam and never settle on her body at every occasion. Three and a half decades had not diluted that interest in her unaging figure, he still found her the embodiment of desirability.
Malia sat on the bed, primly, beside the Master. Three and a half decades hadn't reduced her humiliation either - another interest of the Masters that failed to die - as the eyes moved across her legs and upwards over her body.
The white panties she wore covered little of the space between her stocking-tops and garter, though she always chose ones with a full covering at the rear. Those few attempts at disobedience to the Master had not gone unpunished. A little over thirty years ago, refusing him had cost her, strictly and formally, the Master had whipped her six times with a cane of bright, flexible opalwood mottled with silver-dust specks. He still kept in the room where she could see it every time.
The scars of just those strikes had faded but never entirely disappeared to her critical eyes and Malia prefered not to display them, her helplessness and weeping she prefered to keep to herself, in private and to let him see her suffering directly as he swung the cane again and again had been all but unbearable.
"Closer Countess," she was ordered. "Closer."
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Billby13
Artist
Registered: September 2014
Posts: 155
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Date: Wed July 4, 2018
Views: 4,561
Tags: 24
Filesize: 448.4kb
Dimensions: 1472 x 1326
Keywords: vampire sexy
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