A Note and a Dream

Helen's Journal
19 Jan

I arrived at the our hotel to find that I'd been booked a private room, which I was thankful for. Mr Barlow would not go into details as to the man we sought, only to say that his victims were women of a certain unsavory character. I thanked Kamal, the barrel-chested Sikh attendant, and closed and locked my door. I looked at myself in the mirror, and proceeded to disrobe. I appeared none the worse for wear. No bruising on my alabaster skin, no marks of rough handling. Then again, it could have happened weeks or months ago and I would be none the wiser.

As I slipped into my nightgown and bloomers, I couldn't help but think of what that lovely Turkish girl had said. I've heard rumors of how libertine the Rajans are once the aetherlights go out. My cousin Portia telling me of her encounters with a servant boy. Now, I'm no more prudish than any Parisian, but what she described as accepted behavior was simply scandalous! For 22 years she kept herself intact, and within a week of arriving she was spreading her legs for a butler.

As I sat down to unbraid my hair, I thought back to the lovely Nasira. How many times was she used as she sat next to me? What rough hands found my body to enhance the experience of taking her? I tried not to think about it, but when I sat my brush down and attempted to sleep, the image of her softly moaning in her dreamlike state as a powerful man penetrated her kept entering my mind. I felt my body reacting, I must shamefully admit. My hands started to wander along with my mind. What did they do to me as I slept? Did they enjoy my taste? Did my nude body and delicate skin excite them? I sighed as my fingers found my sex. The wicked thoughts that went through my head as I brought myself to arousal were interrupted by a note being slipped under my door.

I cautiously left the bed, pulling my bloomers back up and absent mindedly tasting my fingers. The note was on fine paper, and written with elegant calligraphy. Seems I have an admirer who is fond of Byron.

"She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies."

I hope to behold your lovely visage again, my sweet.

-A Fellow Passenger"

I folded the note, and couldn't help but smile.

Helen's Journal
20 Jan

I had a most frightful dream. I was back home, laying in my bedchambers. An ominous feeling hung oppressively over me as I was unable to move. The windows creaked open, and a tall man in a cape and a top hat wordlessly entered. I could see his flashing predatory eyes gaze upon my nude body, could feel his presence next to me, but I was frozen in place. He leaned over me, two wolf-like fangs adorning his smile as his long, bony fingers found my breasts. I tried to scream but couldn't. He slid onto the bed, his hand travelling down my torso as he did so. I was paralyzed with fear as he parted my legs, taking position between them.
Wordlessly, the vampire produced a Cinematon helmet, and placed it over my head. I gasped as saw what was playing. Two men were using my body. The vampire mimicked their behavior, lifting my legs so they rested on his lap. I could feel his member harden under my weight as the men on the screen fondled me, one sucking on my toes as the other was pushing his penis into my bum. I winced as the vampire similarly penetrated me. It was then that I knew the sensation I was feeling in the dream was something I wasn't just imagining, but remembering. I could only lay there being violated and watching my own violation, shamefully aware of my frenzied moans and my body's reaction to their stimulations. I felt his fangs slide into my neck as I watched myself take one of their members into my mouth, eagerly sucking it as I slept. The hot, red blood from my neck dripped down in two parallel streams as he sodomized me.

I awoke, my sheets pulled off the corners, quivering. Wordlessly, breathlessly, I slid my finger into my mouth, wetting it. I slid my hand down the back of my bloomers, and pressed the tip into my anus. I sighed as I slid it deeper in. Was it a lingering fear of what they may have done to me, or some shameful fantasy my mind was constructing? I must admit that didn't stop, thinking about the dream, about the lovely Nasira, and about the note. My other hand slipped between my legs, and I moaned into the pillow as I pleasured myself, plunging my fingers into both of my entrances.

It was in this state that Kamal found me, face down, gasping for air into the pillow as I debased myself. I turned over, and quickly hid beneath the sheets. "Apologies Miss. You weren't answering the door and I thought I heard commotion. Mr Barlow would like to see you now." he said, stoically keeping his gaze on my eyes. "Also, you may want to keep your door locked until you are more comfortable with the Rajan ways and customs." he said, closing the door behind him. I was sure I'd locked it...

I laughed at myself when I cautiously checked my neck for puncture wounds. I could not say what I had endured, but attack from a vampire was not it. I bathed, selected a black and green dress, and joined Kamal in the Velicicarriage. In my handbag, I had Nasira's stockings. When I asked if we could swing by the Crimson Lantern, Kamal frowned.

"Mix up of luggage," I said, lying poorly.

"Of course." he replied, and took his seat at the wheel.