Glancing at his watch as he rushes from the hall where his precious Shelle has been secured, the scent of innocent flesh and the taste of sweet milk still distracting him, he vows to be back in a matter of hours... before she wakes, or becomes too engorged.

After suckling her bountiful teats during the long ride she should be okay until dawn... the kids could handle her in his absence, but not tonight, her first night.

Kids, he thinks self-mockingly; at 58 most of his staff seem like kids to him, but each member of his household is a consenting adult with a special skill.

Late August is a traditionally quiet time, he has a few visitors and semi-permanent guests, and as he passes suites on that floor of the western wing of Mar del Sadico he smiles to hear them enjoying the night in the customary fashion. Built from his own design, his manor is the scene for the most memorable galas; each room customized to the minutest detail, from dark dungeons to gothic bedrooms, wick...

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