Shackled

I'm a fertile. Nothing more, nothing less. I grew up with dolls that lived in huge dream houses, learned to clean, then cook, then present and please. Since all of these things came so naturally to fertiles, my mother and I spent most of our time playing around and less time doing anything else. Most of the time, a lesson in cooking meant we were going to bake a whole bunch of food and have my brother taste test it all, which he (like any dom) never complained about. As long as I was doing what I was meant to, my father never had any problems with the way Mom and I lived.

Like most fertiles of my class, I was home schooled and kept away from doms that weren't family until the age of thirteen when I then go to a private school. All the classes you took were based on knowledge, with very few based on age. Every year, your specific dom or fertile class was put together based on age so all the information was given as needed in certain stages of life. They keep doms and fertiles mingled throughout all the other classes, though, to help better understand each other (and for 65% of us, to find your mate.)

My father and older brother cherished me, always thinking I was the most precious thing ever. My mother (who's actually a guy) takes great pride in me. I'm the first female fertile to be born into his family in sixteen generations. The year I turned thirteen, I started school like all the others which was really hard on him. He wasn't ready to see his little girl grow up so fast.

The classes I took my first year weren't uncommon among us: Algebra 2, Anatomy, Fertile Course 1, English 2 (level of public school Juniors), Spanish 3, and Fashion Design. That year was easy.

Now I'm half way through being fourteen and my brother, Astric, is encouraging me to actually make friends with doms at my school. Why would I do that? All they do is torture and get erections, not really my crowd. I like people who are a little more... Fun and loving. But I won't deny, watching a dom live is pretty damn sexy.

“You'll be mated soon,” Atric tells me with a pained look on his face, sitting on my bed. He watches as I finish my neat bun, styling my bangs down so they side sweep just above my dark blue eyes.

“Maybe, maybe not. You didn't get mated this soon.” I remind him, looking over my green make-up that brings a certain, unusual intensity to my eyes.

“Yeah, but that's uncommon. So you should start looking at boys so I can beat them into shape. Can't have anything less than perfect for my baby sister!” He countered, getting up from my bed to stretch.

I roll my eyes at him before applying mascara to my already long eyelashes. Might as well make them cuter. The doorbell starts to ring, signaling it's finally time for Astric to get out of my room. He gives me a kiss on the forehead then leaves, no longer wanting to watch me play dress up.

As a fertile, my own personal appearance is very important. Do people think I'll get my mate's attention by not caring how I present myself? Call that snobby or stuck-up or self centered or really anything-but that's just how it is. I coat my lips in a rose colored lipstick to finish it all off, sitting back to admire my almost perfect make-up job. Not too bad. With a little more practicing, I'll have the art of rubbing stuff on my face down.

After I'm 100% finished, I move to my bed where my Vampire History book awaits me.

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Two hours are spent buried in my books before hunger catches up to me. Tiny pains rumble my stomach as I push my books away, getting up to go downstairs. The halls are quiet until I get closer to the stairs, sounds of grown men yelling and talking flowing through every empty corner. These voices are all familiar except for one. I can't seen to put a face on it. Or a name. Or even a shirtless body.

As I descend down the stairs, I'm faced with four doms and Stell, Astric's mate and my second mother. One of the men sitting there is indeed a new face to me. He's dressed in a Dominator's uniform, light brown hair just a little longer then his chin that's home to a small amount of hair. His bright blue eyes look into my soul, causing me to stop dead. He's beautiful.