Sometimes we stumble upon fascinating findings…
These can be utterly delicious when they occur, finding’s such as Elspeth.
I had seen her before, she would hide in the shadows of The bleeding heart tavern. A young slip of a thing, her eyes cornflower blue, and her hair fell in tatty tumbles like spun gold, around her shoulders, always covering one eye.
I initially took her to be the simpleton daughter of the tavern owner, for she would linger around him like a shadow. Only to move when barked an order, like a stray dog.
A girl of service, how wrong was I?
Having finished a meeting with a client I decided to order a drink. I had been watching her through out the time I was there. The little mouse intrigued me. As I walked up to the bar, I saw her catch my eye. But there was something else as I looked at her. She yearned for more. She yearned for my freedom. There, inside this tiny wisp of a girl-woman, burnt a fierce spirit. This instinctively bore a desire in me, to find out more about her. Would she be suitable for my requirements? I wanted to know more, no. I NEEDED to know more.
I seated myself at the bar, (Not something I would normally do, due to the grunts who settled themselves there). As I ordered my drink, I observed her hands. They were fine boned, with long fingers and one of the daintiest wrists I had seen. And all I could think of was tracing my lips across her veins, and plunging my teeth deep into them, absorbing her into me. But no, I wanted to prolong this, I needed to see her soul…and take it, slowly and allow us both to languish in the ecstasy of that moment.
When I enquired after her name she looked stunned, like a fawn that had been fixed upon by a hungry wolf. When she whispered “Elspeth” to me, I realised she originated from Ireland. Her lilt was soft and warm like a sunbeam landing on a flower. It was extremely seductive, although she did not know it, which made it all the more appealing.
As she handed me my drink, I brushed her inner wrist lightly and she flushed, and I smiled as I kept my gaze with that one piercing eye. She coyly turned, trying to evade me noticing her arousal. I asked her why she hid herself away, and she responded ” Because I am a monster.” “A monster?” I asked. “Why consider yourself a monster?”. She turned away and pursed her lips before returning her gaze to mine and answered, “Because the devil marked me whilst in my mother’s womb.” Naturally this piqued my interest further. “How do you know this?”, I asked as innocently as I could. “Because my father tells me so.” “Your Father tells you so? And you merely accept this?”
She looked shocked at my blatant disregard for her Fathers views. “Yes Ma’am, but I have also seen it m’self.””Show me.” I demanded. “No Ma’am, for you would fall to a faint.” I snorted in disdain at the suggestion of such a weak act. “I assure you,… Elspeth. That I am not like most ladies you know.” Her eye searched mine, and I could feel her arousal and curiosity grow, as I bore my desires upon her. “Yes, yes I think I can tell that Ma’am”. I cannot show you whilst I work though, else my Father would whip me greatly for my impertinence and disobedience. I raised an eyebrow at the thought of her lying across a tree stump, her blouse torn and shredded by the whipping branch held by her Father, and her blood seeping in its glorious scarlet beauty, staining the white of her blouse, and suddenly snapped back to the reality I was facing, in the form of the Woman-child.
I waited there, until her working hours had finished. I could tell from her movements that she was nervous yet excited, as she flitted around like a butterfly, in all her fragile glory.It was very clear that the child was not used to kindly attention, or any attention for that matter. She was a shadow after all. A shadow whose only use was to make her father line his pockets in gold. But I could see her, and now she knew she had been seen. It created a subtle reaction of eagerness in her. Her movements slowly became more self-possessed, as she would glance across to me from mopping tables, and washing the vomit on the floors from overly inebriated regulars.
Finally she walked up to me, she had a dark grey blanket, draped around her shoulders, in an effort to preserve her body warmth, as the two of us left the tavern. Not a word was uttered between us as we made our way towards the woodlands that surrounded her village. Finally we made our way through a small clearing in the forest, which was dense with foliage and we stopped.She looked at me with that one eye, and suddenly I realised she was beset with a desperate sadness. “Are you sure you want to see?” I paused momentarily before answering, as I took in every detail of her. “Of course”. She broke my gaze and walked away a few steps, pacing in anxious short steps. She dropped the shawl, steeped her head then turned to face me, drawing back her golden tresses, and then I saw.
Her face from the top of her hair-line, to the base of neck and top of her shoulder was covered in a mottled scar, and fiercely reddened. I found it inexplicably fascinating and equally seductive. The rise and fall of her skin over its injury drew a stark contrast to her pale, white, smooth alabaster flesh. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, and my desire to take her there and then heightened to the point of madness.
I walked towards her, her head turned away from me, clearly in expectant horror. I let my hand wander slowly over her mangled flesh, and she shuddered and turned to me in surprise and confusion. “You my dear, are beautiful”. I whispered in her ear, and slowly lifted her face to mine, this time met with a pair of sparking blue eyes that were filled with wonder and questions. I traced my hand across her face, brushing my fingers lightly over her cupid’s bow mouth, which was pink as fresh roses, beckoning to be kissed. And kiss her I did. Our mouths met, her lips warm and plump. I could feel her quivering against me as she succumbed in her own confusion.
As my lips left hers slowly, I gazed at her in a mid stupor. she opened her eyes and flushed, her eyes filled with tears that stung like a nettle, before making small rivers down her pink cheeks, and dropping down onto her breasts. “I..I..I’m sorry madame..” she went to lift her skirts and run, but i caught her arm. “Stop running.” I smiled as I spoke, “You should never be ashamed of who you are. No man should ever dare tell you different, nor you believe their battery of words.” “But there is no other place for me, you have seen yourself the abhorrence of the markings!”. I took a moment for her to regain herself before answering her. “Nonsense, you are quite exquisite. What if I were to tell you there is a way of ridding yourself of your marks and live as the spirit you were born as?”
She looked at me questioningly, as if I were mad. “trust me…” I whispered as I moved around her slowly. My arm tracing her tiny waistline. “You are like a tiny porcelain doll..” She gave a small half-smile, flattered by the comparison. “What if I could help you become all that you are, what if I could remove your markings?” Her half smile disappeared an a small arrow of anger flashed in her eyes. “Do not tease me, you know as well as I that I cannot remove what the devil himself put on me!”. “Oh but I can my sweet. I am the devil…” , I could tell she wanted to strike out at me for my audacity, but that inside her a struggle had begun to start.
I held her face in my hands as I spoke, “There is nothing on this earth and beyond that you could not have, if you receive me.” I kissed her again, at first tenderly, as I stroked her face, once I felt the heat rise in her I kissed her deeper, my teeth pulling slightly on her bottom lip and she began to give in to me. My lips travelled her face to her neck, occasionally flicking her flesh with the tip of my tongue. I could hear moan lightly as I allowed my teeth to graze her neck, and then I took her. My teeth broke that white alabaster and pierced her vein, and her blood poured into my mouth, slipping over my tongue deliciously and down my throat, warmly. She cried out and her muscles tensed under my grip as I licked the small scarlet rivers, but stopping myself from drinking too much.
I ripped at her bodice and her small white breasts bobbed free, as I allowed my mouth to travel over them, sucking gently at the small pink buds. She became limp in my grasp as I bit at the rise of her breast and took just enough blood to keep her alive. the girl gasped at the air in a mixture of ecstasy and urge. I sliced just above my left breast and watched as the blood started to seep from the wound. It was then that I pressed her mouth to it, and as my blood entered her she began to fasten herself, sucking in a fervour. Until I broke her free. She looked quite exceptional. This little blonde doll who lay on a bed of ferns, her tiny white breasts, streaked with blood. Her mouth smeared with my own blood. Now it was a waiting game, so I sat and I watched my Little dolly go through her rebirth…