Samandriel stood straighter while he was being appraised, ignoring how much like an object he felt. "As you will," he said, averting his gaze as he took care removing the fine clothes Carrick sent him.
He wanted to tear them off, to set them on fire for how little they fit his personality. They fit well enough, of course. Tailored perfectly to flatter every inch of him, but that fit was too snug for someone who just wanted to be free.
As he took each bit of clothing off, he folded them neatly and set them on a side table until he was completely nude (and soft yet) before the vampire. He would not kneel unless he was ordered to. Carrick was just going to have to deal with a night of a very pedantic slave. for a while at least. "Do I please you, Master?"