June 1980
My Name is Eva...
...And Im writing this down so I don’t forget.
I write this tale every so often. But soon after destroy it. For it reveals much about my Master and I would not do anything to cause him harm. But I must write or else I will forget who I am...who I was.
I was a whore, not one of the poor ones no. I was one of the best, pampered queen of the house. A so called lady of the evening. I was good at what I did. Men didn’t pay for me for a lively romp. They paid for an entire evening for when I was done they were so relaxed they could hardly move and fell fast asleep in my bed. They paid me to make them feel safe and loved and wanted as comfortable as if they were once again in the womb. And I never betrayed any of them. I never stole from them when they were sleeping. I would merely curl myself around them and doze until they woke refreshed and ready to conquer the world again. Judge me if you want but in those days it was very much a man’s world. And I found a way to serve that kept me off the streets away from the cold and disease of the beginning of the industrial age. For in that time we had not yet learned how to keep our cities clean.
And then came Master Villain. He is not at first glance an imposing man. But about him you will notice a curious darkness. And that was the darkness that drew me to him. He did not want me to serve him in the way of woman and man. He merely paid twice the usual fee for a nights work and sat with me. Asking questions about what I did and who I was. He was most charming and he fascinated me. Though I thought it odd that he kept inquiring as to how I could put those I served asleep. I thought perhaps he was a shy man who needed to be seduced. But he politely yet coolly put a stop to all my advances right away.
I thought he was about to leave without even touching me but he asked me to sit at his feet and close my eyes and then he kissed me. It was the strangest kiss I’ve ever felt. It was the taste of it. As if in that kiss was the essence of him. I was swallowing and kissing and before I knew it he was gone.
I spent the next day longing for him. For something he gave me yet I could not think of what it was. I could not remember anything other then polite conversation that lovely kiss and a promise to return the following night. All day I longed for him with a hunger for a man I had never known before. And an hour after sundown when he returned I was so glad to see him I almost forgot myself. I had always moved in the presence of men with a languid grace that put them in a relaxed and sensuous state of mind. He noticed my fault right away and something flashed in his eyes. It was somewhere between anger and displeasure. I only knew that I did not want to be the cause of such a look again. And as if he could read my mind and this pleased him he came to me and caught me up tossing my fee on the Madams Desk he hurried me off to my boudoir.
This time he asked that I sit at his feet and rest my head on his knee. I was only to eager to comply. The fire was so warm and his hands in my hair so soothing that I soon fell fast asleep. And what a dream I had. I know enough now to guess what he did while I was sleeping but then in my innocence it was such a delightful dream. Two pinpricks of pain. What I now know as his fang’s penetration of my breast and then I was suffused with a pleasure unlike any I had known. I was only a warm tide of submission as my being flowed into him. I was still dreaming when he gave me himself, to be drunk down like a draught of his soul. But only a little just a small taste really.
The next day I was weak and could see no one. I thought of him for I had little enough to do bedridden as I was. When he returned at what I had now come to think of as his accustomed time. I felt as if I had known him all my life. And I loved him dearly. Or so I thought...that love was but a pale shadow of what I feel for him now. That night was beautiful for its magic and he will never love me like that again. He did it to join me to him and now that I am joined he has no need to be so close to me ever again. As he filled me with his blood that was also his soul I could feel him lending me strength no human has a right to posses. It was his will that I become .... Bound.
The bound they called us then. In the days when ghoul was but a derogatory term not something to be said in polite company unless the thrall in question had given great offense. I still stiffen when I hear it, fearing I’ve failed him in some way. But we are in America now and the Kindred here are as crude as those of my time were refined. Still I serve. Still I lure men and women to sleep so he may drink and take little of their soul when he does.
...And Im writing this down so I don’t forget.
I write this tale every so often. But soon after destroy it. For it reveals much about my Master and I would not do anything to cause him harm. But I must write or else I will forget who I am...who I was.
I was a whore, not one of the poor ones no. I was one of the best, pampered queen of the house. A so called lady of the evening. I was good at what I did. Men didn’t pay for me for a lively romp. They paid for an entire evening for when I was done they were so relaxed they could hardly move and fell fast asleep in my bed. They paid me to make them feel safe and loved and wanted as comfortable as if they were once again in the womb. And I never betrayed any of them. I never stole from them when they were sleeping. I would merely curl myself around them and doze until they woke refreshed and ready to conquer the world again. Judge me if you want but in those days it was very much a man’s world. And I found a way to serve that kept me off the streets away from the cold and disease of the beginning of the industrial age. For in that time we had not yet learned how to keep our cities clean.
And then came Master Villain. He is not at first glance an imposing man. But about him you will notice a curious darkness. And that was the darkness that drew me to him. He did not want me to serve him in the way of woman and man. He merely paid twice the usual fee for a nights work and sat with me. Asking questions about what I did and who I was. He was most charming and he fascinated me. Though I thought it odd that he kept inquiring as to how I could put those I served asleep. I thought perhaps he was a shy man who needed to be seduced. But he politely yet coolly put a stop to all my advances right away.
I thought he was about to leave without even touching me but he asked me to sit at his feet and close my eyes and then he kissed me. It was the strangest kiss I’ve ever felt. It was the taste of it. As if in that kiss was the essence of him. I was swallowing and kissing and before I knew it he was gone.
I spent the next day longing for him. For something he gave me yet I could not think of what it was. I could not remember anything other then polite conversation that lovely kiss and a promise to return the following night. All day I longed for him with a hunger for a man I had never known before. And an hour after sundown when he returned I was so glad to see him I almost forgot myself. I had always moved in the presence of men with a languid grace that put them in a relaxed and sensuous state of mind. He noticed my fault right away and something flashed in his eyes. It was somewhere between anger and displeasure. I only knew that I did not want to be the cause of such a look again. And as if he could read my mind and this pleased him he came to me and caught me up tossing my fee on the Madams Desk he hurried me off to my boudoir.
This time he asked that I sit at his feet and rest my head on his knee. I was only to eager to comply. The fire was so warm and his hands in my hair so soothing that I soon fell fast asleep. And what a dream I had. I know enough now to guess what he did while I was sleeping but then in my innocence it was such a delightful dream. Two pinpricks of pain. What I now know as his fang’s penetration of my breast and then I was suffused with a pleasure unlike any I had known. I was only a warm tide of submission as my being flowed into him. I was still dreaming when he gave me himself, to be drunk down like a draught of his soul. But only a little just a small taste really.
The next day I was weak and could see no one. I thought of him for I had little enough to do bedridden as I was. When he returned at what I had now come to think of as his accustomed time. I felt as if I had known him all my life. And I loved him dearly. Or so I thought...that love was but a pale shadow of what I feel for him now. That night was beautiful for its magic and he will never love me like that again. He did it to join me to him and now that I am joined he has no need to be so close to me ever again. As he filled me with his blood that was also his soul I could feel him lending me strength no human has a right to posses. It was his will that I become .... Bound.
The bound they called us then. In the days when ghoul was but a derogatory term not something to be said in polite company unless the thrall in question had given great offense. I still stiffen when I hear it, fearing I’ve failed him in some way. But we are in America now and the Kindred here are as crude as those of my time were refined. Still I serve. Still I lure men and women to sleep so he may drink and take little of their soul when he does.