The Girl with the scar

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.

Utterly delicious.

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…

Madame X

The Banker who loved bondage

Nothing surprises me these days, Nothing at all.

The banker came in today, one of my “regulars”. he always requests me as I know exactly what to do to make him whelp. In our society those whom are deemed to be interested in “abnormal perversities” are shunned, attacked, and often killed for their personal desires, that is, unless they have been directed to me…

The banker, a man within his forties and a settled man with a young wife and 2 children, first started coming to me half a year ago. At first he was awkward and would not be forward about his wishes. But in time (And not a lot of it!) he happily succumbed, and in not too long a time, professed his wishes to be both bound, tortured and asphyxiated.

Naturally I was happy to help. But first pointed out to him, that this would leave evidence of his indiscretions. (A thought of which had never entered his mind). This however made a rather delicious challenge to me. This threw up a particularly difficult issue, as I love to scratch and mark my territory. But this isn’t the first time that a married man has come to “improve” his quality of life. The banker had always enjoyed surprises, so this time when he entered my room, I stood there, one foot placed on the chair of my vanity table, holding a glass of red wine, donned simply in black satin lingerie and a sheer black negligee that he had bought me. As he entered the room, i shot a smile in his direction, his eyes never leaving mine as he undid the collar of his shirt and walked forwards towards the foot of the bed.

We have alway’s had the agreement not to speak, (he felt it broke the moment) and so instead I sidled over to him, my hands casually brushing the lapel of his jacket, and slowly I removed it, before unbuttoning his shirt. I pushed him back and he fell on the bed. lifting one leg up, then the other, I straddled him, and as I did so I saw a tiny smile peak in the corner of his mouth, as he let his hands wander over my body, lingering over my breasts that were clad in the highest quality satin, so fine that every detail could be felt of what lay underneath. He inhaled sharply as his fingers touched my nipples, and then I knew this to be the moment I strike.

I grabbed his wrists in my hand and held them above his head while securing them to the ropes attached to the bed head. my breast grazing his lips as I did so, and I felt his muscles tighten underneath me. once securely bound I traced my long hair down his chest all the way down to the top lip of his trousers. I stayed there a moment and smiled evilly at his desperation, before gently running my hands up and down his chest, so lightly that he began to cry out for me to take him inside me. Of course I never give in to their whims. Oh no, I play by MY rules and my rules only. I helped sit him upright as I sat their upon him, my thighs tightly gripping the side of his.I began to trace my mouth up and down his neck before kissing it. Allowing my lips all over his neck and face until I was ready to kiss him properly.

Just as I was about to place my lips on his I yanked his head backwards with force and kissed him. I could feel him try to writhe beneath me, aching for me. Little did he realise that while he was receiving this kiss, that I was busy removing his shirt. (So what?) I hear you ask, (Isn’t that normal?), well yes… But I am far from “Normal”.

I utilised his shirt. Pushing him back down on the bed I held the shirt in front of him smiling, before covering his entire face with it, pushing his head back, and then I kissed him once more through it. Feeling him grow beneath me I had already decided I could play with this shirt further. I lifted his head up, which was reaching hard to find my breast, and I slipped the shirt (Now twisted as a rope) around his neck. He was fully unaware of this, as his mouth searched for flesh he could devour, as I pushed him down hard and tied the shirt in a knot, before un buttoning his trousers and mounting him. I pulled hard, the tie around his neck twisted his skin and his face grew a dark red purple as he climaxed, it was only then that I removed myself from him and the bed, and went back to my glass of wine.

He lay there on the bed a spent man.  Barely ably to utter an audible word. (In part due to the restriction I had placed upon his larynx only a few minutes ago. eventually he got up sorted himself out and nodded at me, before placing a large sum of money in a pouch on the Vanity table. Raising an eyebrow at him and smiling, I watched him go and wondered to myself what excuse he would make of the large dark bruised ring around his neck. Not that it was in any way an issue to me. But I had always wondered as to how these men and women were able to cover the most apparent of markings which had clearly been a clue to their infidelity’s.

For me however, I shall count my money. Wash. eat. smoke. repeat.

 

Madame X

The one who lied, stole, and betrayed me

We can all try to run from our past, but we can never escape it.

I learnt that early on. As a mortal you are trapped in flesh and walk naively through life. You meet people, make a connection possibly, and it’s most warped of forms, you can experience love. When mortal we are conditioned to feel we are not complete without a mate. And I, just the same as you, felt exactly the same way, until I was reborn.

I can recall a handful of humans of which I allowed myself to believe, loved me back as strongly as I loved them.

How wrong was I…

They desired me, wished to possess me but more so, coveted the passion within that burnt brighter than any flame and fiercer than any Lion. I was, in effect the drug they craved. I did not understand the fire within me until I found what I thought to be my first love. He was not a true gentleman, but rather a drifter with a tawdry and unsightly past. I was to learn later that he had just been released from prison, only a year earlier for thieving. If I am honest with myself, I feel I detected that undesirable part of him as soon as we met. It was the excitement of danger, mixed with vulnerability which seduced me so.

I was besotted. In my innocence I believed all the fairy tales they tell you of finding true love, a “soul mate”. Hah! what lies they tell us, decorated in sugar to sweeten the bitter pill. It was true when he first told me he loved me. It started so gently and sweetly as two children who form friendship’s, but shortly after this the two animals within us surfaced and war broke out. It became an ugly affair, and I was beaten down by his words and threats daily. He managed to break my spirit, but after many years of his abuse I managed to walk away, and worked hard on rebuilding myself.

Like many Mortals I made the same mistake several times over subsequently when choosing suitable companions. My worst however came centuries later, when I met Lady Carlotte Awlrie.

I am not so easily taken at first glance, but upon meeting Carlotte I was somewhat bewitched. She oozed self-assurance, strength and sexual power, and it was that I was smitten with. This was not desire of the heart, (Not initially) this was lust in one of its purest forms. I ensured that I befriended her and a spark ignited. It is not something that I could put into words, but it was electric. I adored her and she me, until one day she changed (or maybe I did). Suddenly I saw a manipulative monster, I started catching her in her games and making her face me for it. Except when th time came that she left.

It was only afterwards, that I found out she manipulated everyone she knew to despise one another, so they would never speak and never find out the truth of her. She used my heart against me, had me belive that people she loved had grown sick and that some even had passed away. She had told her family that I was a cruel and abusive tyrant, when the reality was, that she was lazy and selfish.

Having already told her about my past experiences in relationships that had soured, she had used this information against me, and subsequently saw to it that she would do her best to destroy me and all that I had worked for. She sent silent whispers amongst those who worked with  me, and ensured all she did would cut quick to the bone. I was bereft. I felt loss in a way I never had before, for out of the blue she disappeared without word or explanation. I was grief-stricken and came close many times to ending my life, just to stop the searing pain and loss I felt every waking minute.

But.

It was also because of this grief that I became what I am today. But I shall save that story for another day.

 

Madame X

 

 

Reflection and deflection

Today is not the best of days gone by.

“She” appeared today, the one who managed to destroy a great deal of all I built over the years, and the one I foolishly placed my trust in. Such is the story of love. The love which has left me embittered to the core.

Knowing she has returned, means that I must act, and act quickly to ensure that she does not get away with all that she has managed any further. Her end must come, and she must pay in the same tears and blood that I did. Her vile and smug fat face is an eternal reminder of days past. Day’s wherein I foolishly entrusted my heart and life in her hands. I cannot say that many of whom I have come across can create such a strong desire for ongoing pain upon another. But she is the one I wish nothing more that the worst pain imaginable. Let her scream and writhe in anguish while I look on. Savouring every wince every tear shed until I take her life, but not until she has paid in full. NO ONE will ever harm me the way in which she did.

Madame X

The sailor from across the seas

They never learn. Every time they come here it is always the same.

Their expectations are clearly lowered from their more regular “port calls” so all they are concerned about is which girl they wish to choose for the night. I warn them, as I do everyman who frequents my house. “Treat my girls well, or you will be damned.” Of course, most of them laugh because they have no idea of what lies behind the mask of this Madame. To them, I am merely the top cat of my cat house. At first I found it amusing, knowing full well what would eventually become of them. But as the years (and centuries) pass, it has grown an old and stale joke, and I am beginning to lose my calm.

The sailor was a new one, he hadn’t visited before and came from France. He had been impressed with my dialect ability. Having lived in Paris for almost a century, it was hardly a stretch to converse with him, but I allowed him to feel flattered and impressed nonetheless.

The ape made a severe mistake. Having booked Birdy for an hour, you can imagine my rage to discover he was the type to violently man handle a girl. Hedy informed me she had heard screaming from the room, and walked in to find that the man had decided to bind Birdy in a manner in which she could not escape. Thankfully I can trust Hedy to handle herself (and any trouble that comes her way). She acted swiftly and called upon the Doctor to remove him and take him downstairs to his personal quarters.

Having checked upon Birdy and left her in Hedy’s capable hands, I made my way downstairs, where I was met with the Doctor, who had told me the man had to be both bound and gagged as his language was becoming intolerable.

The Doctor is a special friend of mine. We met under interesting circumstances, and found we had a lot in common. I cannot say how long we have worked together, but as soon as we started to do so, both of our lives quality improved tremendously. The doctor you see, is a specialist in pain. Not of removing it, but of inflicting it. This has become of great use to me when it comes to the “Rehabilitation” of difficult customers.

” I waited for you Madame” The Doctor bowed in respect, tipping the edge of his top hat in mockery of the flair’s and graces of the more “Normal” gentlefolk. A half-smile escaped my lips, I couldn’t help it while I made my way into the underbelly of our combined worlds. There in the torture chair sat our Sailor boy. His clothing now grimy and oily from fighting against the restrictions placed upon him. His mouth was gagged by an apple and a head strap, which tied both around his forehead and his jaw. His hands were bound by leather straps to each arm of the chair, as were his knee’s and ankles. It was both an amusing and yet slightly pitiful sight to behold.

I paced slowly around him, indulging in watching his eyes follow my movements as far as he could see. I stopped squarely in front of him. “Time to get back in line, boy!” His brows furrowed as he tried to snarl at me, his spittle dripping and sliding down his gagged mouth. Pathetic, I thought to myself as I moved towards the surgery table, and chose a selection of needles.

I smiled wickedly as I moved slowly towards him, the needles in his view, he began to panic and his eyes widened which pleased me greatly as I mounted his lap, facing him eye to eye, holding back a wicked chuckle in the process. I could feel the eagerness of the Doctor’s eyes boring into my back, willing me onwards so that he could take his turn.  “You have been a very, very, very, bad boy.” I said to him, ensuring my face and voice was as clear and earnest as possible. It was only then that I took the first needle and help it under his left eye whilst I spoke. Slowly tracing underneath his eye I began to tell him exactly what I do to “bad pets”, after all they all require training… Just some more than others.

“Do you know what I do to bad pets?” I teased him, feeling the muscles in his leg’s tighten under my own. “I discipline them…” he shook like a baby puppy and began to whimper. It was only then that I saw a small salty river form in the corner of his eyes, and i couldn’t help myself and started to laugh. The Doctor clearly understood the humour and began his belly laugh and between us the sound bounced off each of the curved stone walls and back through the soul of the hapless fool who was tied to his chair beneath me. In a split second I had started to slowly immerse the first needs under his left eyeball. His high-pitched screams rang through the air and a quiver of delight beset me as he writhed beneath me. Then came the first needle for the right eye. This time instead of simply screaming he became silent apart from a single (and rather ridiculous) whimper followed by a strange sobbing sound and I felt a warmth beneath me. I removed myself and looked down, and saw that the puppy had wet himself. Disgusted but undeterred I mocked him and resumed my actions until three needles had been inserted under each eye. I did not bother to look back at him when I moved towards the Doctor, who was still excitedly waiting for my command.”Now Madame?”, “No. Not yet” I replied. I did not wish to over exert the Doctor’s self-control, but this one needed to learn his lesson, and that meant slow control. “Very well”, the Doctor looked away, not out of anger but of frustration and a means to control his lust.

I was about to leave when I changed my mind, “You can flay his feet. But ONLY the soles for now.” The Doctor gave a knowing nod and flashed me one of his wickedest smiles as he walked towards the Sailor with one of his sharper knives, as I made my leave which was swiftly followed by some of the most delightful screams of pain, before i shut and latched the door.

 

Madame X

The one with the emerald necklace

Today the Doctor did well for me.

A darling girl was brought in, she couldn’t have been much older than sixteen by my reckoning. Sleight in figure with chestnut hair that tumbled in curls around her shoulders. Her eyes were a dazzling ice blue, and her lips a virtual pink rosebud, desperate for its first kiss.

I must admit, at first I was tempted to keep this one, her skin was flawless and she held onto her innocence as one might, while burgeoning on the cusp of woman hood. But she lacked guile and wit, and would have taken far too long to train, so instead I revelled in her flesh…

First her seduction, like all virgins she was a delight to play with. When the Doctor first brought her in with the promise of wealth and fame she came across as impertinent and rude, (Clearly spoilt by a pair of weak parents) but to me that just made the process all the more sweeter. Initially I asked Hedy to “show her around” this just gave me time to prepare my toy-room. I could hear the foot falls grow nearer and nearer, and the excitement of waiting never grows old.

Finally Hedy walked the girl in, and I couldn’t help but look at the necklace she wore around her neck, I decided then that, that would stay until I was finished with her. Hedy finally left us alone, and I beckoned to the child to sit next to me on the bed. Unfazed by this I gave her something to drink. As I spoke to her I could see her eyes sparkle and light up, finally as her mind gave way to the intoxicating liquor, I began my approach. Unlike a man, I take seduction very seriously and touches need to be done subtly and slowly for full effect. I placed my hand on her leg as I spoke, allowing it to brush ever so lightly, to ensure my touch would be felt below the layers of the material of her dress. As i did so I noticed her flush. Just a slight pink, The key of course is not to allow them to know that you notice their submission to your touch or effect. Let them play their game (The one they think they are playing, of naivety and innocence – When really you know exactly how they respond to you.) I moved my face towards her as I spoke earnestly, so as to arrive less suspicious, telling her how beautiful her hair was, as I wound it around my fingers allowing my hand to glide her face, (But just a whisper of a touch) It was then I noticed her lips part. Only so slightly, but enough to tell me she was succumbing. At this point she closed her eyes, and I let me hand slip from her cheek to trace over those full lips, and she let out a small breath, which shot electricity through me.

(As much as I love seductions, the monster in me fights to overpower and take immediately all I desire, so the game I play with my prey is equal to the game I play with myself and my natural inclinations.)

I allowed my lips to graze over hers and I slipped one arm around her waist, while using the other to hold her hand  behind her back, and I could feel her quiver under my touch.Gently I lay her down on the bed, the bodice of her corset heaved, her breasts rising and falling as her heart raced and she flushed in response to my actions. I traced her body as I allowed my hand to search beneath the layers of material to between her legs, and she let out a small groan as I lowered myself nearer and nearer. Her milky white thighs were stunning, in the small flash of skin between her buttocks and the cream stockings she wore. I wanted to take time just before I took her, she strained her body urging me onwards, as the primal desire over powered her, and then I took her – Plunging my teeth into that silky flesh that sat between her woman hood and my desires.

She screamed, not with fear but like all virgins with an overwhelming need to be consumed. Her blood flowed like a garnet river, in lines down her thighs, as I sucked her life force within me. I could feel the heat of her skin dissipate and her pulse slowed, and I waited for that exalting moment where the last breath escapes, shortly after the drinking stops. I sat upright in silence, my eyes shut as I felt the last of those rivers slip from my lips, and trickle down my breasts and I revelled in it as I became imbued with her soul and energy.

It was only after the edge of it dwindled, that I stood up and walked to where the body lay, her eyes wide, her mouth parted caught mid way through an exhale of delight. I rolled the body over, it had no appeal to me now, as I took the necklace off her and placed it in my trinket box, before calling the doctor to remove the offending flesh from my room.

Madame X