Though the place where she lay was slick with Sophie's sweat, damp from the spilled blood of her taking, Aurora found no cause for complaint, even when her grandsire's mouth made the searing welts on her body sing their painsongs again.  She made soft, ladylike noises, nothing like her animal howls of wanton need as he caressed his body with his hands, his lips, his tongue.<br/><br/>Her open legs welcomed his cock, and she turned her gaze towards the slave, who knelt by the side of the bed, watching them through her lowered eyelids.  "Can you teach me to bewitch her so that she will always return here when she sleeps, without need to wear the pendant?  Can we silence her tongue so that she does not betray us, and leave her memory of what we are turning her into?"  So demanding, his granddaughter, so cut of the same mold as he, eager to dominate, to control, to enslave the pretty maid.