The slaves were acting like they were enjoying her biting them. They started coming into the room she was in and waited for their turn. It was like they wanted her to drink from them.
As Grace indulged in her insatiable thirst for blood, the slaves' demeanor shifted, their fear giving way to a strange sense of submission. They approached her willingly, their eyes alight with a strange mix of anticipation and desire, as if they craved the touch of her fangs upon their skin.
With each bite, they moaned in ecstasy, their bodies writhing with pleasure as the warm trickle of blood flowed from their veins. It was as if they found a twisted pleasure in the pain, a perverse satisfaction in surrendering themselves to her dark desires.
And as Grace fed upon them, she couldn't help but marvel at the strange power she held over them. It was as if they were drawn to her, compelled by some unseen force to offer themselves up to her hungry embrace.
