Violet lay on the large canopy bed, her arms and legs spread out around her lazily. She flopped around, her limbs like dead weights, irritating her. She considered cutting them off so she could lay comfortably. A small sarcastic voice in the back of her head stated she might be more comfortable if she would get up, she had been laying here for four hours already. She told the voice to shut up and sighed out loud. Part of her wanted to get up, but she knew if she did it would be the same old shit again, so why bother? Rupert never bothered her, he was a good old-fashioned butler, not poking into her business. She was sure he worried, but he never complained. She flopped around some more, wondering if she should even get dressed. "Why bother?" she mumbled out loud to herself, "Nothing ever happens around here. Maybe I'll just lay here till I die." That seeming to be a good plan she resolved herself to lay there until she died. She stared at the fresco on the ceiling, it being tastefully framed by the dark oak canopy and the whisps of white sheer cloth draped all over it. In fact, the whole room reeked of decadence and photo-ready perfection. It didn't feel lived in at all. It seemed as though she had never actually touched her home at all, as if she floated above it always so it would stay perfect always. It felt like a set, or photo cut-outs of a 19th century home. It was what her clients wanted. She was suddenly gripped by a temptation to make a huge mess, to throw things and finger-paint on the walls and scream and yell and let loose. Then she remembered that this plan conflicted with her previous plan to lay in bed till she died. She reconsidered the plans, weighing each's validity and deciding what she would do. She was analyzing the merits of first having a fit and them laying in bed till she died when a knock interrupted her thoughts. Violet sighed an apathetic "What?"
"Your tea, madame. I take it you will be taking it in your room again?" he stressed the "again".
"I do detect a note of sarcasm in your voice, do I not, Mr. Rupert? I don't really care, since tea will simply prolong my suffering and inevitable death, but since you have already made it I will drink it. I probably deserve to suffer longer anyways."
"Ah. Killing ourselves again, Madame? I had thought so, when you did not come down for your bath. I had the toaster all plugged in and ready for you too. It is still sitting precariously on the edge of the bathtub if you happen to change your mind..." he entered the room and set up the tea on the nighttable, pouring it into the delicate footed cup and pouring just the right amount of cream and sugar into it as he spoke.
"You make it sound so commonplace, Rupert, although I suppose it is. Or, rather, it used to be...these times, Rupert, a woman my age can't adapt so quickly anymore." she sat up in the bed as Rupert propped her up with pillows. "I did read those old Ann Rice books, you know. She was right about the death part, you just get tired and waste away...."
"Oh Madame, you are melodramatic as ever. Yes, you are just like poor old Lestat, wasting away in an old house in New Orleans. Shall I feed you stray cats and get you an old bathrobe as well?" he handed her the tea.
"Yes, I believe that would work. I think I should like to go that way. I don't know if I could eat cats though..." The large old ginger cat sleeping at the foot of the bed looked up sleepily at Violet, and made a small hissing sound, disapproving of the conversation. "Oh hush Erich, I would never eat you" she patted the space beside her, and the cat slowly lifted up its huge body and dragged itself to her side. She dipped a biscuit in the milky tea and put it down on the bed in front of him.
"Oh Madame, not on the comforter, it's..."
She spoke in a falsetto: "...an antique! I know. Everything is. I don't care anymore, I'm sick of this fake house I don't live in and I'm sick of making fake houses for other people not to live in! I quit!"
"But Madame, who will pay my salary if you quit and leave yourself here to die?" Violet watched Erich chew the biscuit. "You will, I am leaving you everything you know." Erich made another small noise. "You too, dear." She petted the voluminous animal and smiled as he purred.
"But Madame, what good is an inheritance from an immortal?"
"Oh hush, Rupert. I'll die soon enough if you just leave me alone."
"But Madame, you look so healthy and young. I doubt you could die just laying there."
"You're right, perhaps I shall have to resort to something more active. Leave us to our tea and I shall ruminate upon it."
"As you wish, Madame." he poured the cat a cup and placed it carefully on a small tray in front of him. The cat lifted itself up slowly and lapped at the tea. Rupert backed out of the room as Violet stared into her cup, thinking. He walked down the grand staircase and then turned to go back to the kitchen, when the doorbell rang. He remembered the conditions outside and wondered who would be coming out in such a storm. He opened the door curiously.

Violet stared into the milky depths of her tea, listening to the storm raging outside and pondered why she felt this...neutrality, this boredom, this.....anaphrodisia toward life. She had everything, and had spent the last two hundred and fifty years getting it. Maybe that was it. She had nothing left anymore, she had accomplished everything she wanted to. Now she understood why her brother, her poor long-gone brother had refused to become like her. She missed him terribly. She picked up the daguerrotype from her bedside and looked at it, the tints almost as fresh as the day the picture was taken. He stared severely into the camera, but with an air of humor still in him, he stood with his wife and small daughter. She smiled sadly at the sight of the baby Violet, she had never been more flattered than when he named his daughter after her. She wanted to cry, but couldn't seem to gather up the strength or the energy. She couldn't even get angry at herself for not properly honoring her dead family, so deep was her apathy. She sighed and put the frame back on the nightstand. She sipped the tea and looked at the paintings in the room, hoping their beauty would wake her. She stared at a renaissance painting of the Madonna and child and wondered if she had gotten around to having children would that have changed anything? She doubted it, as they would be long dead, just like everyone else she had ever loved. She decided to stop loving people, except Rupert because she couldn't help that, and Erich because she guessed him to be immortal as well. She was considering actually getting up, her suicidal phase passing. She thought of a nice warm bath and a book by candlelight, even though she had read all eight thousand books in the house at least once each. She sat up a bit, disturbing the cat who had his face in the teacup licking up the last drops of tea, and he looked up at her annoyed. "Sorry." He licked his lips and gave her a "you'd better be" look, and went back to his tea. Violet sighed deeply, her apathy returning. Why did nothing amuse her anymore? Even a year ago, Erich could still make her laugh with his aristo-cat-ic attitude. Now she couldn't even laugh at her own bad jokes. She flopped back down onto the pillow, her nightgown making a swooshing sound as she fell. The silky black materials slipped over her small breast, exposing it. She looked down and didn't even care enough to pull it back up.

Rupert opened the door to find a most striking young woman at the door, soaked to the bone and dishevelled from the wind. He stared at her in shock, not expecting this when he had opened the door. He stood there rudely, not saying anything, only staring at her vibrant green eyes. She looked up at him pitifully.
"I'm terribly sorry to bother you at this hour...I....got....lost...." Her voice was light and child-like, but not lacking in maturity. It made one think of a warm soft comfort, something light and cheerful but still somehow sensual. Rupert suddenly believed in love at first sight. She stood there, looking at him, seeming to inspect his young, strong British face. She bore an expression of wonder and interest, as though she saw everything for the first time. He marveled at her, standing there as the wind whipped by, the rain coming down so hard it blew in past the veranda and onto his shoes. The mysteriously beautiful girl smiled shyly "Can I come in and use your phone?" Rupert snapped out of his reverie. "Oh, please, excuse my rudeness, of course, Miss." She grinned at him, her smile seeming to erase her shyness. She looked at the vestibule in awe. "Wow...looks like I got lost near the night place...I couldn't see the house, I'm surprised I made it to the door in the wind. Actually, I tripped over your porch and that's how I found it." She smiled that infatuating smile again as she took off her coat and hung it up neatly. She shook out her hair. "You don't happen to have a towel do you?" Rupert stammered and backed out of the vestibule to get one. She amused herself during the wait by removing her boots and admiring the stained glass windows. He returned with a large soft towel and she dried her hair with it, appearing to enjoy the sensation. She handed the towel back to him and he stepped back into he house, motioning her to follow. He sat her in the parlor and returned with a warm cup of tea. She took it gratefully and sipped it. "You have an amazing home....I wish mine looked this good!" Rupert laughed "It's not really mine, I'm just the butler." "The butler? Wow, I wish I had one of those. How big is this place anyway?" "It's quite large, actually. Goes on forever." "Cool!" She jumped up and walked quickly around the room, observing everything. Then she walked past Rupert out into the hall and began exploring the house. He didn't have the heart to stop her, completely forgetting his Mistress for the moment. He watched her as she explored like a small child, never touching anything but soaking it up with her eyes. She asked him questions and he answered, telling her about the history of the pieces and the house, what certain things were for, she even looked at the servant's quarters, marvelling at the cast iron wood stove and the dishes, was amazed at the stained glass, admired the wallpaper, and in general, loved every inch of the house. He was enthralled with her. She adored the main staircase, and he didn't even realize she was at the top of the stairs until it was too late.

Violet heard someone talking downstairs, and wondered who it was. Perhaps another reporter come to pester her for insipid details of her private life to expose to the idiotic masses, but who would venture out on a night like this? She was slightly curious. She didn't want to be, she was hoping lightning would strike the house and kill only her. She debated opening the window to speed up the process, but that would only get Erich's favorite sleeping spot wet. It seemed all her plans involved some kind of inconvinience. She was deliberating on the perfect suicide when she heard a girlish laughter in the hallway. She wasn't sure what to make of it, Rupert wasn't the kind to bring bimbos into her house. Erich sat up, annoyed his sixteenth nap of the day was being interrupted and grumbled. He waddled to the end of the bed. Violet watched him passively. The door slowly creaked open and a ravishing blonde head poked in. The girl's face looked surprised to see someone inside the room.
"Oh, my, oh I'm so sorry..."
Violet stared in shock, the woman was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She somehow managed to stammer out; "No, it's alright, come in...." Rupert appeared behind her. "Miss, you can't..."
"No, Rupert, it's alright. Don't worry about it."
"Madame?" his confusion and shock sounded in his voice.
"Please, leave us. Erich needs to be fed." The massive cat meowed plaintively in response. The girl laughed, a bright bell-like sound. "I don't think he needs to eat any more! He'll explode!" She came into the room and ruffled Erich's fur. He looked up at her pretending to be mad but enjoying the attention. She scratched him and he purred. Rupert and Violet both watched the girl in fascination. She noticed this, and looked up. "What? Do I have something in my teeth?" her innocence and pure happiness were enthralling. Violet couldn't help but smile. "No, it's just that he doesn't like anyone."
"Really? No way. A cute guy like this? Awww."
"Yes. He is quite miserable. Or at least he pretends to be." The girl laughed again, then picked up the monstrous cat and placed him in Rupert's arms. The animal looked up at him helplessly. Rupert huffed as the weight was placed on him. He smirked, and walked away mumbling to the cat. "Yeah, I know Erich. She gets to have all the fun. Oh well, let's go make ourselves a gourmet meal shall we?" The cat purred in response and Rupert placed him on the ground gently. Erich followed obidiently.
Violet stared unashamedly at the Venus that had come crashing though her door. The girl looked around the room in awe of the place, her hands clasped in front of her. Violet's eyes drifted to the girl's legs. They were strong and well-muscled, but not too large. Her nondescript clothes somehow accentuated her curves, but it seemed she was unaware of this. Violet guessed she didn't put much though into her appearance, the clothes looked comfortable and soft. Her hips were a pre-Raphaelite's dream, large and rounded, and her waist was a delicious curve between those hips and her large soft breasts. Her breasts were not so large as to sag or be bulky, but soft pillows. Violet wanted to grab them, to shove her face in them. She suddenly thought that would be the perfect suicide, to suffocate herself in those luscious breasts. Her eyes slowly, reluctantly passed over those breasts to see her neck, her soft hair falling in a tangled but sensual mess over her shoulders, her pink lips curled in a smile, her eyes so green it almost hurt to look at them. In short, she was alive. So alive. Violet realized those perfect green eyes were looking right at her, that soft smile was for her to see. She blushed, embarassed at being caught doing something so uncharacteristically brazen. "I'm...sorry....please, sit down...." The girl smiled more broadly and sat down on the settee next to the bed. The slit in her skirt hiked up on her leg a bit and Violet forced herself to look away.
"Nasty storm out there," she cleared her throat, "what on earth were you doing out in it?"
"I was out here looking at houses earlier today, and I stopped to eat at this little truck stop, well it was really good food and I got to talking with this guy....well, you know how it is, and by the time I realized what time it was, the rain had started I figured I could get back to the city in it, but then it got really bad. I got lost and I couldn't see, but then I saw your place all lit up, so I drove over to it. I tripped over some flowerpots, hope that's ok..."
"No, that's fine. I'm glad you got out of the storm. You could have been killed!"
The girl smiled. "Sorry I just ran up into your room like that, I was just really amazed with the house, I so love old houses, and I got a little hyper." she blushed beautifully.
"Really? I restore them for a living." Violet suddenly realized what she was wearing and became self-conscious, she sat up in the bed and pulled the nightgown out so it covered her, blushing when she saw her breast was still exposed. She pulled the flimsy nightgown over it and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Her stomach growled, and she hoped it was unnoticable. She turned back to look at the girl , who was looking politely away. The girl's eyes wandered to the ceiling, and the fresco there. "Wow..." she trailed off, amazed. "Did you paint that?" Violet snapped out of her thoughts, glad the girl changed the subject. "Huh? Oh the fresco. Yes, I did, one of the few things in the house I actually made myself. It took me ten years to get it just right. It's based on part of the Sistine chapel fresco."
The girl's eyes were large. "Ten years? I can't imagine doing anything for that long!" she stared at Violet in amazement. Violet was staring wistfully at the ceiling, remembering what it had felt like to paint. She wondered if that would get her out of her funk. She pondered this for a moment, then realized the girl had stopped speaking. She caught a glimpse of the girl out of the corner of her eye and saw that she was looking at her. Violet smiled to herself, and pretended to still ponder the fresco to see what the girl was up to. The girl suddenly seemed to realize she was staring and cleared her throat. "Oh I've been so terribly rude...I'm Elan." She pronounced it so beautifully..."eh-lahn". Violet heard the name ringing in her head a few times. Elan offered her hand, Violet shook it firmly, though her palms were a little sweaty. "Violet. That's a beautiful name...spirit. Are you French?" Elan giggled, the sound drove Violet mad. It was too beautiful. "Yes, most people have no idea how to pronounce it, and nobody knows what it means! The extent of most people's French is 'Voulez-vous couchez avec moi?" and none of them can even say that right!" She continued to laugh, and Violet had to stop herself from answering the question with a resounding yes.
Violet excused herself, telling Elan to stay where she was, she would be right back. Elan smiled and amused herself by reading the titles on the bookshelf. Violet got up stiffly, and brushed past Elan's leg, the touch of her sending tingling vibrations of energy up her leg. She hurried into the bathroom and closed the door. She sat down on the plush little loveseat and put her face in her hands. "What's wrong with me?" she muttered to herself. She got up and splashed cold water on her face, and looked at herself in the well-lit mirror. Her deep purple eyes looked back at her impassively, but somehow disturbed. "Why can't I do it?" she almost cried. She was distraught, usually her seductive abilities were unparalled, but this girl, and her recent apathy had somehow sucked the ability from her. She wanted this girl, badly, but had no idea how to go about getting her. She almost laughed when that small sarcastic voice in her head told her she was just like every other mortal girl out there trying to get laid.

She washed her face, and tried desparately to brush the knots out of her long black hair. She had no idea what to do, she sighed and decided that if it was meant to be, it would be. The small voice again told her she was on her own, her greed had taken her to this point, it was all her doing. Violet sighed, knowing the voice, which she named her Jimmeny Cricket, was altogether too right. She had climbed to the top, unprepared for what was up there, and now it was killing her. Her apathy returning, she cracked open the door. Elan was on the bed on her knees, looking at a painting that hung on the wall at the head of the bed. The sight of her in that position rekindled the fire in Violet's belly and she shut the door again, putting her back against it, not knowing how to face this gorgeous demon on her bed. Her passion simply rose in her, uncontollably, and she found her hand suddenly on her small breast, caressing it. She caved in and touched herself for a moment, then took a deep breath, deciding it was better not to go out there smelling of sex. She opened the door again, looking down, pretending to be adjusting her nightgown. She looked up to see Elan still on the bed, enthralled with the painting. Violet smiled and closed the bathroom door a little loudly, snapping Elan out of her reverie. Elan smiled a bright red smile, embarassed at being caught and began to crawl off the bed. "No, stay." Violet smiled her sweetest smile at the girl. Elan smiled ever more sweetly back. "It's comfortable, isn't it?" Violet rubbed the comforter with her hand as she walked around to the other side of the bed. "Yes, it's wonderful." Elan flopped down, spread-eagled on it, bouncing a little. Violet adored the small jiggle of her body as she bounced. "I could stay here all night..." She smiled up at Violet, and Violet was shocked to see a little of what she thought might be seduction in her face. She recovered quickly. "Yes, it's the perfect bed for lazing in." Violet lay beside her, more conservatively. "There's lots of room." Elan moved over and rolled onto her side, looking at Violet. "Yeah, you could probably fit four people on here!" Violet thought for a moment. "I guess you could. I've never tried." Elan smiled at her again, the seduction in her eyes a little more apparant. She picked up a lock of Violet's matted hair from the bed and ran it through her fingers. "You have such beautiful hair...let me brush it for you." Violet decided not to complain, simply smiling back at her and sitting up on the bed. Elan reached over to the dressing-table and grabbed the large ivory brush from it. She got comfortable behind Violet and began to untangle her hair. After several minutes, she had it all hanging down Violet's back and was brushing it softly. She brushed with one hand and caressed with the other. Soon the brush was gone and Elan was just running her fingers though Violet's long silky hair and down her back. Violet sat, her eyes closed, enjoying the simple human touch she had been so deprived of the last year. When Elan's hands began to touch her neck, she didn't fight, or say a word, just melted under the touch of this light, soft young woman. Elan pulled her shoulders back, and began caressing Violet's face, resting it on her own shoulder. Her hands roamed downward to her breast, rubbing the soft flesh at the base of her neck, soon moving down to the collar of her nightgown. Elan brushed the flimsy fabric aside, gently, softly touching the smooth pearly-white skin of Violet's right breast. Elan began kissing Violet's neck and cheek, just small kisses at first, but then becoming more passionate. Elan grabbed Violet's breast hard with one hand, and turned her face towards her so they were kissing. Elan cupped Violet's face in both her hands and kissed her deeply. Violet's mind had left her long ago. She was a being of pure sensation, a brainless nervous system. Elan's mouth tasted like cherries, she assumed the rest of her would be as sweet. Violet whispered between kisses; "Why are you doing this?" Elan replied with a sensual whisper, "You're so beautiful, and you look so sad. Anything to make you smile..." Elan pushed Violet gently onto her back, climbing on top of her, kissing her all the way. She sat up and looked Violet over appreciatively, rubbing her hands over Violet's chest, pushing the flimsy nightgown around. She finally couldn't stand it anymore, and ripped the nightgown open, revealing Violet's slim, hairless body. Elan make a small growling noise in her throat as she saw what was underneath, and ran her hands all over it. She lunged at Violet's throat, biting the soft flesh and making small growling noises into her. Violet gasped, arched her back, and sank into the bed, her body putty in Elan's passionate hands. Elan couldn't seem to get enough, she nipped and kissed Violet's neck, then her face, then moved down slowly to her breasts. She played with each, masterfully teasing Violet to the point of pain, then stopping just before it became too much. She moved her lips downward, the sweat from her face mixing with Violet's on her stomach. Elan sat up and pulled off her dress with Violet's help, revealing a garter and stockings, and a lovely satin bra. Violet thought she would die right there, she closed her eyes, sure she couldn't handle any more. Her fingers somehow ventured up to the satin bra and caressed the lovely large breasts within. Elan moaned, a sound more intoxiacating than her laughter, Violet's mind reeled. Elan fell on her, the two wrapped in a strange writhing mass of passionate kissing and groping. At some point, Violet ended up on top, and, holding Elan's arms down with one hand, she pulled off her own lace panties and Elan's satin ones. She lay down on top of her, the lovely sensation between her legs intensifying as Elan ground her hips up into Violet. She struggled at Violet's grip, but this only excited Violet more, and her arms were stronger. She pressed the girl into the bed and kissed at her neck, licking the salty sweat from her skin. She sat back and smiled at Elan, who suddenly looked surprised, then grinned hugely, whispering seemingly to herself; "I knew it..." Violet stopped, her mind coming back to her for a moment at this strange reaction, wondering why the girl would react that way. She bit her lip, and drew blood. She sat up, covering her mouth in embarassment and disbelief. Elan took one of her arms. "No...don't hide them...they're beautiful." Her eyes never lost their lust. Violet relaxed, looking at her strangely. Elan smiled, "I knew...I though maybe you weren't at first, but now I'm sure..." she bared her neck temptingly. "I was looking for you..." Violet was confused. "Just forget it...leave them out like that, I want you to. I want you as you are. Don't pretend to be human for me." She writhed under her. "Just take me. Fuck me." She grabbed Violet's bewildered head and pushed it into her neck, moaning. The sound, the smell, the feel of Elan's hot wetness against her own, it was all too much. Violet sunk her long canines into Elan's neck, the girl took a sharp breath, then moaned that gorgeous sound. Violet tasted a drop of the sweet creature's blood and pulled away. It was too good, it was as delicious as her mouth. She didn't want it just yet, she had to make this last. She pulled away, watching Elan's face. She remained frozen for a moment, then relaxed, a small sigh escaping her small pouty lips. "Oh...God...why'd you stop?" She pouted invitingly and rubbed Violet's breasts. Violet smiled. "I want to make it last." She kissed those perfect pouty lips. "I think you'll have to earn it." Violet got off her and lay on the bed, her arms above her head, smiling at Elan. The girl looked like she would either cry or explode. She stared at the ceiling for a moment, then looked down as she heard a noise. Violet had opened her bedside table drawer. Inside were various toys, lotions, oils, ropes and two pairs of leg cuffs. Elan smiled hugely. "A woman after my own heart." She reached over Violet to grab a length of silken rope. She grabbed Violet's arms and pulled her up, then flipping her over, she pulled her arms behind her. "You want to tease me? You want it to last?" She licked Violet's face. "I'll make you think about that. I'll make you want me." She tugged the ropes tight, and pulled Violet's head back, adding some of her hair to the knot around her wrists. Violet made a small sound of protest, which was soon smothered by the silk gag in her mouth. Elan shoved her hard back onto the bed, Violet flopped down with a thump, and lay there, unable to move. She wiggled her legs a bit and Elan grabbed them, tying another rope around them tightly, then typing that rope to the one around her wrists. Violet was helpless, she couldn't even move her head without pulling out her hair. She lost her mind again when Elan ran the feather over her breasts.