The sound of a distant horn notifies me of the first arrival. The game will begin in earnest soon, but the exact specifications of it all need not be revealed until the memorial banquet, to be held tomorrow evening. There are hints at what is to come all over the island, though, and it would take a fool undeserving of the Witherborn blood to remain oblivious until I reveal the rules of the island’s game. Collared servants, locked dungeons, and chains everywhere, incorporated into the original villa as it expanded and grew to support the growing slave population. It is family custom to only allow mating to occur between islanders and mainlanders, and that applies to both servants and family. Some of the recruits understood their purpose before coming here, but most did not. Unprotected by our codes, the servants don’t have the normal restrictions against violence.

Those recruits never stand a chance, enslaved before they have any idea what is happening. I only wish the new arrivals will be every bit as easy the prey.

I look into the mirror and wonder what I’ve done to upset my family. Five-eleven, thirty years old, slightly tan skin, and perfectly managed-black hair, I’m the spitting image of my grandfather when he was my age. I’m fit, too, something that our ruling bloodline was most certainly not known for.

I’m wearing a tailored grey suit that I’ve left unbuttoned, as usual. Just outside my bedroom is Mary, my favorite maid. She nods in acknowledgment then follows without word; though she knows I have no power over her anymore, I’ve been brutal enough to both her body and soul that she wouldn’t dare think of crossing me. She was my first capture, claimed while she was spending a summer in Saint Correns studying marine biology. I wooed her through charm and booze, and by the time she realized the nature of the island, there was nothing she could do to escape my grasp. She’s short and appears to be frail, her long blond curls descending down to her shoulders and glasses covering her gentle blue eyes. However, she packs quite the punch when she tries.

Together, we exit the manor to find a car waiting. Mary opens the door for me and I climb in, a bit shocked to see one of the other maids driving the car. It’s only a thousand feet or so down to the pier, but I appearances are everything when you’re trying to make a first impression.

The boat is in the distance, and on it comes the first of my competitors… or perhaps more.

OOC:
Name: Micheal Witherborn.
Hard Limits: No M/m, trampling, mutilation.