Lauren: Percy, do you mind if I ask you how you became a vampire? If 
it's too painful, I understand. I just want to know is all.

Percy: I do not mind, my dear.  Although there really isn't much to 
tell.  But my life was not a bad one.  My father was a knight, and I, 
as his firstborn was to inherit the title.  I was sent to London for 
my formal education and training at court when I was 15. 
 
Like any boy at that age, I got into my fair share of trouble, but I 
was never quite AS troublesome as some of my mates.  Several of the 
lads enjoyed sneaking out of the dormitory of an evening and visiting 
the local public houses and brothels, of which London teemed at the 
time.  My father had seen to it that I had recieved my rudimentary 
lesons at the hands of the local vicar...so I was in fear for my 
mortal soul anytime I even passed one of those establishments. 
  
I still indulged in a little petty thievery and pranks, however 
My youth and young adulthood passed in pretty much the same 
manner...I was beginning to earn myself a respected place at court, 
enough to ensure that my family's fortune and honor would be 
maintained.  Then, shortly before my 26th birthday, I befriended a 
chap by the name of Ambrose Critchfield.     He was a dashing young 
man, full of good humor and rather adventuresome.  
He'd had a bit of trouble in the North country and had come to London 
at the request of his parents, to allow situations to be brought to 
hand back home. 
   
We soon became fast friends.  Then something changed.  A strange 
illness seemed to take hold on 'Brosey.  He began spending more and 
more days abed, rising only at night.  His colour was off, and he 
frequently shifted between feverishness and a cold clamminess.  Yet 
his spirits never flagged, although he seemed preoccupied...as if his 
former passions were of little consequence and he was waiting for 
something...some promised treasure or some such... 
  
He dropped from sight for almost a week, anfd I began to get rather 
worried that he'd sent no word to me.  I knew he had no family in 
London to check up on him...so I decided to pop by his flat and see 
how he was faring.   When I got there and was about to knock, he 
flung the door open and greeted me like his old boisterous self.  He 
had dressed in his finest and was looking much healthier, with a well-
fed glow about him...He said he was sorry to have worried me so and 
had been about to come visit me to see if I would care to join him 
for a night on the town.  I, of course was much relieved to 
see him up and about again, and told him that if he felt up to it, 
nothing would make me happier. 
 
He excused himself briefly, returning to his bedchamber, claiming to 
have forgotten his change purse.  I waited in the sitting room.  When 
he returned, I noticed a thin trickle of blood at the corner of his 
mouth and pointed it out...fearing that perhaps he had been suffering 
from consumption (I believe it is called tuberculosis these days).  
He pooh-poohed it, saying he'd bitten his tongue accidentally, 
tripping over a stray shoe in his room, and wiped the blood away with 
a handkerchief. 
  
We spent a wonderful evening, first going to the theatre, then 
finding a  handy little pub (which I nolonger feared to enter, having 
matured a bit).  As midnight neared, Brosey told me there was someone 
he wished for me to meet.  "At THIS time of night?" I asked him.  He 
assured me that the person he wished to introduce me to was an 
eccentric widow of some wealth.  She kept a rather nocturnal 
schedule, but was known to be quite generous with her money to poor 
young nobles.   
  
Seeing an opportunity to further my family's fortunes, and the three 
or four pints I'd drunk at the pub fueling my good nature, I told him 
to lead on...that I'd be delighted to meet the crazy old biddie.  He 
uttered the most musical laugh I'd ever heard from a male throat, 
covering his mouth with his handkerchief, his eyes fairly GLOWING 
with mirth, or so I thought.  I just grinned back at him in blissful 
ignorance of what I was about to let myself in for. 
  
We arrived at the manse, for to call the place a HOUSE would be a 
gross understatement...it was much grander than my ancestral home, 
around 1 in the morning.  The place was ablaze with light and 
opulently decorated.  There were quite a few people milling about the 
ballroom and foyer, all of them exquisitely beautiful.  Compared to 
my Welsh sensibilities, the assemblage and decor was practically 
decadent.  Persons lounged about on cushions or various pieces of 
furniture in a wide variety of costumes..   ...some practically 
naked!  

I was beginning to suspect that Brosey had brought me to some high 
class brothel rather than his misterious wealthy widow's.   I was 
blushing furiously, my face a flaming red compared to my fair 
hair and eyes.  Some of the activities going on between some couples 
and GROUPS being quite scandalous...although I'd never said as much 
to my friend, I was still virgin at the time...a fact I usually kept 
to myself to avoid the tormenting it would have brought on from my 
mates. 

Lauren:    *grins.* So you were chaste at the time, just like I am 
now.  

Percy: A beautiful, and fully clothed (thankfully), young woman soon 
approached Brosey and myself.  She soon began to inspect me like I 
was a horse for sale at the market.  The perusal was quite 
unnerving.  I'd never encountered such a forward female before and 
was unsure how to react to her attentions, as pleasant as they were.  
I asked if SHE was the "widow" my friend had referred to.  She 
uttered an enchanting laugh and said, "Non, monsieur...that 
would be the Madame deWinter, my mistress." 

Lauren:    *eyes narrow slightly* Then who the heck was the one who 
was being so foward. 
 
Percy: She asked Brosey if I was the "lovely young man" he'd promised 
to present to Madame deWinter.  He smiled and told her yes.  She 
dismissed him and he left, giving me a strange look as he did so.  I 
turned to the mysterious French woman and she introduced herself 
simply as Musette, then proceeded to lead me to an inner chamber, 
away from the veritable orgy going on behind us...and to 
the receiving room for her mistress. 
  
*glancing nervously at you* Are you sure you wish to hear the rest of 
this story, Kitten.  It is quite graphic.  I do not wish to offend 
you or arouse your jealousy over something that happened centuries 
ago. 

Lauren:    Please, go on. I'm fine, really. 
  
Percy: Very well...I was presented to the widow deWinter (or so she 
was called in public...in fact I later learned that it was Belle 
Morte, herself). 
 
After I had bowed and introduced myself, she rose from her seat and 
approached me.  I still remember her grace and beauty, and the 
wondrous depths of her honey-coloured eyes.  I stood entranced, but 
still aware.  Her voice, when she spoke, seemed to flow over my skin 
like silk...it was very...arousing.  
 
"Let us see if the gift our dear Ambrose promised us is all he said 
it would be...strip him,"she commanded.  I had enough presence of 
mind left to protest at first, but then she captured my eyes...the 
next thing I knew, I was standing before her nude.  She began looking 
me over, circling me.  I flushed red from toe to crown. 
 
Lauren:    My God, she certinally isn't the modest one. 
 
Percy: No, Belle most certainly is many things, but modest is NOT one 
of them.  She seemed pleased at my reaction to her 
inspection...commenting that it had been ages since she'd had a 
virgin...I never was clear on how she KNEW that about me...the next 
thing I knew, she was nude as well.  "I shall enjoy training you to 
my liking, Percival," she told me.  "I am most pleased that 
no other woman has influenced you yet.  When I am finished with you, 
women will THROW themselves at your feet, begging you to pleasure 
them."  
  
Before I could protest that I had no such desire, this gloriously 
beautiful woman knelt before me and began stroking my manhood to 
hardness, then took me in her mouth, never releasing my eyes.  I was 
instantly lost in the ecstacy of an act I'd never even dreamed of. 
She brought me almost to the point of release, then stood back up, 
smiling seductively and led me to her boudoir.  That night, my 
mistress, Belle Morte, took my virginity...three glorious nights 
later, she took my life.  

Lauren:    When did you find out she was a vampire? 
  
Percy: That first night.  She fed on me as I climaxed.  By then I was 
totally lost to her will...her adoring slave.  Poor fool, I...I 
actually thought the bitch loved me. 
 
Lauren:    *hugs Percy tightly, kissing him lightly on the forehead* 
     
Percy: Please forgive my language, kitten...past bitterness caused 
me to speak so...it still hurts how callously she threw me away when 
she got bored with me. 
  
I was with her a little over two decades before she handed me off to 
another master...she got harder and harder to please with each 
passing year...Asher actually tried to help me, knowing I was one of 
the few non-masters in Belle's entourage...it was appalling the way 
her court treated and taunted him after his loss of Julianna and 
scarring...it made him bitter and cruel for a while, at least 
outwardly.  I was one of the few he felt secure enough to show is 
true feelings to. 

I'd heard a few years ago that he finally left Belle and reconciled 
with Jean-Claude...through much petitioning on my part, my last 
master allowed me to contact him...I was granted to enter his service 
as part of a treaty agreement.  Marquesa was a fair master, but she 
really didn't know what to do with me.  I still miss Charleston, but 
I am happy to be serving someone who showed me such kindness when I 
was nothing more than a plaything.