He looked like royalty. Like he’d stepped out of a portrait of Louis XIV himself. The midnight blue justaucorps was embroidered with gold thread in elaborate patterns, the vest beneath it a riot of brocade. His wig was massive, perfectly curled, and his face was powdered to pale perfection. A sash crossed his chest, and a decorative sword hung at his hip.
He wasmagnificent.
And behind him, following at the end of the leash, Spence made Emmy’s mouth go dry.
The tight eggplant breeches left absolutely nothing to imagination — his cock was already hard, the outline obscene and perfect. His bare torso gleamed with oil that made his muscles stand out in sharp relief. The leather cuffs at wrists and ankles were works of art, black leather studded with rhinestones and massive stainless steelhardware. The collar around his throat was even more elaborate, wide and gleaming, with a heavy ring at the front.
His nipples were rouged deep red and adorned with jeweled clamps connected by a delicate chain. His face was painted — rouge on lips and cheeks, kohl around his eyes, a beauty mark high on one cheekbone. The long curly wig framed his face in cascading waves.
He looked like sin and submission wrapped in period finery.
In Zander’s hand was a heavy stainless steel chain leash with a black velvet handle.
“Emerald,” Zander said, his voice warm with approval as he took in her appearance. “You look stunning.”
“So do you. Both of you.” Emmy couldn’t stop staring at Spence, at the way he stood with perfect posture despite being nearly naked, his erection proud and unapologetic.
Zander moved to her, reaching into his pocket. “But something’s missing.”
He produced a jeweled hair ornament, the delicate platinum worked into an intricate design, set with amethysts and diamonds that caught the light like captured stars. Not a crown, but close.
“The Master’s consort needs a sign of status.”
Zander positioned it carefully in her elaborate wig, settling it just off-center where it would catch the light. His fingers lingered at her temple for just a moment, cool and possessive.
“Perfect,” he murmured. “Now you look like what you are.”
“Which is?”
“Mine.” He smiled, slow and predatory. “And his.” He gestured to Spence. “Shall we?”
Zander handed her Spence’s leash, and the offer seemed to echo in the suddenly quiet room. Spence’s eyes darkened, his scent flooding with arousal and submission so thick Emmy could taste it.
She accepted the leash and asked Spence, “What are your orders?”
“Stand to the left of the person holding my leash, Ma’am. Match pace as is appropriate.”
The six gathered their fancy masks and made their way up the staircase to Le Bacchanal Ballroom Magnifique, which had been transformed beyond recognition.
The moment they stepped through the entrance, Emmy understood why this was called acarnivale.
The already gorgeous ballroom had become Versailles.
Enormous tapestries hung along the curved walls, depicting hunting scenes and pastoral landscapes in rich jewel tones. Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead. Scattered throughout, elevated platforms were draped in silk, creating intimate seating areas where vampires and their favorites reclined like Renaissance paintings come to life.
But it was the entertainment that truly transformed the space.
In one corner, musicians played period instruments, filling the air with baroque music that was both elegant and slightly eerie. Near the center, a small raised stage held performers in commedia dell’arte masks acting out bawdy pantomimes that had clusters of vampires laughing.
Servers moved through the crowd in period livery, some distributing glasses of wine, others carrying trays with delicacies arranged like art. Some wore elaborate masks, others had faces painted in the style of the court.
And everywhere, people wereperforming.
Not just the official entertainers, but the guests themselves. Vampires in elaborate costumes posed and postured, engaged in theatrical conversation and exaggerated gestures. It wasn’t just a ball, it was theater, everyone an actor playing the role of decadent nobility.
Zander touched Spence’s shoulder and told him, “You won’t like what happens if your erection flags. Rock hard all night, boy.”
“Yes, Sir.”
