Bridget's Nights Ch. 07bypatricia51©
The foursome gathered around me. I sat on the couch with Linda on one side and Sue on the other. Pat nestled in her husband's lap in the big chair facing us.
I don't doubt that my eyes grew misty and far away. I wasn't seeing the room, but rather the soft rolling green hills and dales of Ireland. I knew that the faint traces that remained of my Irish accent grew stronger the longer I talked.
I was born the eighth and final child to my parents, Michael and Mary O'Brien. Five brothers and two sisters all towered above me in my childhood. My father owned and operated the local combination inn and tavern, with of course, the assistance, advice and direction of my mother. Along with my siblings, I worked there from the time I was old enough to help. I started mopping the flagstone floor, washing dishes, and finally graduated to serving drinks and food.
Generally I didn't have to think twice about the customers. After all, with the exception of a traveling bard or tinker and the very rare patrol of English soldiery, our village was generally left to us. An uneasy peace existed in the country. In not too many years there would be the earth-shaking revolt of Hugh O'Neill amd "Red Hugh" O'Donnell that came within a breath of casting the English out of Ireland. Alas, that was not to be.
In the meantime though, I could generally wiggle my hips or cast a wink at the men in the tavern without fear of any liberties being taken. Most customers were friends of my family. Furthermore my father was well known as a strong man and a famed wrestler throughout the area. He was pretty choosy about who got fresh with his Bridget. The young men learned quickly that if they wanted to steal a kiss, it would have to be done away from my father's watchful glare.
I should have been married by now. Twenty-one was definitely an old maid in those times. But so far no one had shown up to match both my eyes and my father's expectations. So I was still waiting for the dashing man who would sweep me off my feet. Too many romantic tales I'm sure.
One visitor to our place was Dominic. Everyone was suspicious of him. Not from anything he did, but rather because he was a "foreigner". In those days that term would have been applied to anyone, Irish, English or whatever who was not a local, but in his case it was true. He was dark, actually not that peculiar in Ireland. He told us he was from Spain. Another Catholic country, Spain and Ireland had a continual, if quiet commerce so his being here was not unusual.
From the first, he captivated me. Up till then, my sexual experiences had been limited to an occasional kiss and some hurried fumbling in a quiet place like the barn loft. Only twice had a boy even touched my breast. Both times the inexperienced touching had left me longing for more.
Once, just once I had touched a boy in a forbidden place. Seamus McManus, the youngest son of one of our neighbors, and I had slipped away from a village celebration and taken refuge in a haystack. We had kissed and daringly run our hands over each other's arms and leg. A sudden shift of the straw beneath us had brought my hand in contact with a rigid bulge between his legs. We froze. Almost involuntarily I rubbed my fingers against it. Then realizing what we were doing and knowing that, according to the Parish Priest, that final damnation was upon us, we had sprung apart and shot back to the festivities.
From Dominic I wanted more. So much more. His words were always friendly and innocuous, but the fire that seemed to burn in his eyes occasionally came through. I knew he wanted me as a man wanted a woman. And I wanted him. I wanted to feel his dark, smooth skin. I wanted his hands upon me. I trembled as he once brushed his hand over my bottom as he squeezed past me one evening.
Several times we managed to find hurried moments alone. His first kiss was so thrilling I could have given myself to him right then. I had never known a kiss went beyond the touching of lips. When he whispered that he loved me, my heart nearly stopped. I promised that very night to meet him outside of the village.
Late that night I slipped out of my bed. Afraid even to breathe, I tiptoed to the doorway and slipped down the stairs. I hugged the wall to avoid the tread that I knew squeaked. Then I unbarred the top of the Dutch style doors and clambered out. I eased them closed behind me, hoping that no one would notice they were open before I got back and bar them against my reentry.
I flew on swift feet to the grove of trees where I had agreed to meet Dominic. The moonlight lit my way and I caught my breath as I saw him standing in its rays. Running to him I launched myself into his arms.
"Ah my love, you came!" The moonlight glinted in his eyes, almost making them glow. He kissed me again, holding my small body to him. Once again his tongue slipped into my mouth. His hands rested on my bare shoulders and he drew the simple dress down until it dropped below my breasts. Murmuring in my ear, his hands took them and caressed them. My nipples grew harder than I could have ever imagined. I was wet between my legs, a wetness such as I had never felt before.
He scooped me up into his arms. Still kissing me, he carried me through the trees to a small grassy knoll. He set me down gently.
"Such beauty should be knelt before." He fell to one knee and caught my dress, pulling it down over my hips and to my feet. I stepped out of it, as nude as the day I was born.
My dress cast aside, he stretched my body out on the cool grass. I shivered but the heat of my passion overcame my body, and my doubts. He threw aside his clothing and fell on top of me.
I gasped as I felt his manhood press against me. He caught my wrists in an unbreakable grip and pinned me under him. He bent his head and caught one of my breasts in his mouth. At first he was gentle, running his tongue over the stiffening nipple, urging it to harden to his touch. His mouth slid to the other breast, treating it the same. His body pushed against me. I groaned in anticipation and fear as I felt his hard cock slide between my legs.
"Yes, oh yes, Dominic." I was on fire with excitement
Then his lovemaking changed. As though he had become some wild animal, he took my nipple in his teeth and bit. He wrenched it with a sharp pull of his head. The pain became deeper as I felt two points dig along the softness of my breast.
Even as I called out to him to stop, his knees forced my legs apart and the head of his cock launched itself against the wetness of my pussy. One massive heave of his hips drove him up inside me. I tried to scream, only to find his mouth completely covering mine. My hymen ruptured and then he was fucking me, his hips pounding my small body into the turf with every movement of his body.
What he was doing to me brought mixed feeling to me. After the initial shock, my body was responding to him. The pressure of his cock inside me made me feel good. Somehow it was not the "rapturous excitement" I had expected from eavesdropping on the talk of other women. My breasts hurt from his teeth. He had finally let go of them and was licking my neck, which I found much more pleasurable.
Still in all, I could feel something building inside my body, a fire burning deep between my legs. I was meeting his down thrusts with my own movements and I began to moan loudly. He must have felt me building, for he suddenly picked up the pace of his hips. The he was very tight inside me, as though he had swollen. I cried out, my body shaking under a force stronger by far than my own fingers had ever aroused.
His lips were next to my ear. He whispered in his accented Gaelic, "Now, my love, we will be together always." His head dropped to my neck. I spasmed in the first throes of my orgasm. He released into me, a hot flood filling my pussy. Then I felt a sharp pain in my throat. I became dizzy, the world spinning wildly around until I sank into darkness.
When I opened my eyes I had no idea where I was. I couldn't see, even after I managed to open my eyes. When I did, two objects fell from my face and rang with a dull thump. I couldn't move. I was in some sort of wooden box. It was close about me. I tried to call out. Panic seized me and suddenly I was free, with the shards of the wooden box around me. Moonlight poured through a barred window. I realized I was in the tiny family chapel carved into the side of a hill. But why? A glint caught my eye. I looked into the remnants of the box and picked up the two coins that had fallen from my eyes.
In a frenzy I managed to push open the heavy wooden door and I staggered out of the burrow. In God's name what was happening? I couldn't seem to think. Then it struck me. Of course, if I could just get home. Everything was always alright at home. Whatever had happened to me, Mother and Father would be able to fix it. I got my bearings. I was on the North side of town. I ran towards the house, not even noticing the rocks that cut my bare feet.
From out of the shadows Dominic caught my arm. He smiled, and this time I saw the fangs clearly. "Where are you going my love? I'm sorry I was late, but now we will be together forever."
I pulled my arm out of his grasp. "What are you talking about? I have to go home. I'm late, something is wrong. I need to see my parents. Whatever it is, they will fix it." I babbled on, rushing through the wet night grass in my bare feet. "I have to go home. I have to go home."
He started after me. Then a sad smile crossed his face and he stopped. "I will be waiting nearby love. You will see."
I reached the end of the hostel where we lived and pounded on the door. My father opened the door and I stepped in, prepared to throw my arms around him.
To this very day I will never be able to forget the look on his face. A mixture of horror and sheer disbelief twisted his visage into something I could not even recognize. He screamed. My god, my father saw me and screamed.
Knowing what I do now, how could I have blamed him? His daughter was dead, had been dead for days. My body had been blessed with all the ceremonies of the Church, but the circumstances under which I died were strange and frightening. Then he opened the door and found what he could have only assumed was a demon in my form.
God, if I could have caught a glimpse of myself standing in that doorway I would have been terrified also. I was streaked with dirt and dust from the tomb. The white dress I had been laid to rest in was torn and muddy. My fingers were torn from the effort of breaking free of the coffin. And my face...
It would be years before I could see myself when I was in vampire form and not shudder. It doesn't twist and deform your face. In some ways it would perhaps be less frightening if it did. Rather, the face remains as it normally is, changed only by the fangs and the red glow that lights in our eyes. It wipes out our humanity but at the same time leaves us the same person we were before.
I staggered through the doorway. My father scrambled away from me. My mother screamed and then my brothers surged towards me, determined to defend the family against whatever nightmare wore their little sister's body. I almost feel under the assault as they grabbed anything to hand and pummeled me with sticks and chair legs and logs from the woodpile. My father seized the sword from over the mantle and ran at me.
"Avaunt, Devil from hell!" He swung at me. I caught his arm and in the first fit of the strength I did not know I now possessed, I wrenched it from his grasp. I threw it aside. I threw my brothers aside. I looked beseechingly at my mother.
"Mother, its me. Its Bridget. Tell them to stop. What is wrong." I begged her.
Somehow I think she knew. She caught up the precious mirror that she let us use only with her there and held it up to me. I stared at the reflection. Another myth shattered I know. When I realized that the inhuman face I was seeing was mine, I screamed myself. I hurled myself out of what had been my home, trying to outrun myself.
Dominic was there, mounted on the horse I had thought him so handsome on. He reached down and caught my wrist in an iron grip. He swung me up behind him. Even in the madness that was taking me I wrapped my arms around him and felt a thrill.
"We must hurry," he called out. "The village is roused." I looked over my shoulder. People poured forth from their huts. Flames leaped up as a bonfire was kindled. I saw torches beginning to spread out as though the people bearing them were searching for someone. And I knew they were hunting for me. I could hear the cries of my family and friends as they looked for the demon. Then Dominic clapped the spurs to his horse and we were flying down the worn track leading away from everything I had ever known.
Returning to the present, I found myself surrounded by warm bodies holding me as my tears flooded down my face. Linda and Sue rocked me as I wept. Pat pressed against me, her swollen belly keeping her from getting as close as she was trying. Finally, Mike's arms seemed to encircle us all.
Slowly the tears slowed, then stopped. Eventually I gained control of myself. I heaved a sigh and relaxed. It felt so nice to be surrounded by caring people. They finally let me go and I settled back onto the couch.
Linda asked, "Bridget, ahh, is that the way all vampires have sex?"
"Oh no. The next time I made love with another vampire, a male vampire that is, it was much different."
"Well that's good," breathed Sue. "So it was just him? Cruelty like I guess his and Thorfinn's doesn't actually run through all vampires, regardless of the stories?"
"Definitely not. And Sue?" The blonde woman looked at me quizzically. "I have seen more cruelty from humans to other humans than could have been inflicted by all the vampires in the world." I shook myself. "Enough of that. What else can I tell you?"
"What happened to Dominic?" asked Pat.
"We drifted apart. He was more enthralled with the idea of 'being in love' than in being in love itself. We met again in Paris, always a favorite city for vampires. Of all things, his aristocratic ways doomed him at the beginning of the French Revolution. I escaped because I had already been forced to abandoned France.
"Why was that?"
"I had run low on money. I was working in a tavern as a bar maid. The wheel of life often comes full circle. I was approached by a man named Jean, who inquired if I had experience as a ladies servant. I actually had, although I had to be vague about the particulars. He told me his was the major-domo for a Countess who needed to replace a maid servant who had unexpectedly run away. I accepted."
I may have, or may not have blushed when I added, "The Countess I had served once before was a famous courtesan of nearly two centuries earlier. She had taught me many things, not the least of which was that a man was not always needed for lovemaking. So I followed Jean to his mistress' townhouse with perhaps more thoughts than just getting a new job."
For the first few weeks everything seemed normal. I barely saw the Countess. I did certainly notice her. She was indeed lovely, fair and white as snow. Of course the aristocracy made sure that no sun dimmed their complexions whenever possible. I could certainly sympathize with that.
Several of the times I had crossed the path of the Countess I had felt her eyes upon me. I was unfailingly servile but I was aware she seemed to have an interest in me. At least once I saw her lick her lips. I hoped it was anticipation. How right, and how wrong, I was about that, I found out one night after about a month in her service.
Jean had appeared in my quarters. "You are commanded to attend the Countess tonight. Clean up and wear this," he handed me a lace dress. "Go to her in her apartments at the 9th hour."
I entered the doorway as the nearby church bell tower marked the hour. The Countess was stretched out on a divan, wearing a nightdress that consisted mostly of diaphanous veils. I curtsied to her and waited until I was told to rise.
"Mmmm, Jean was right. You are lovely." She clapped her hands. "Close the door. Fetch us some wine and come here and sit at my feet."
I did as I was bade. The wine was strong. She looked over me and smiled.
"I have observed you. I have seen you observe me. I am very beautiful am I not?"
There I was on safe ground. "Yes, My Lady."
"You desire me, do you not?"
I swallowed. There might not be a right answer to that. When in doubt, tell the truth. "Yes, My Lady."
"Good. Fill our goblets again. Then come here." I did so and she slipped her arm around mine, holding her wine to my lips. "Drink." She nodded approvingly as I held my filled glass to her. I sipped, my eyes locked on hers. "More," she whispered. I did so. She laid her glass aside and held out her hand. "Come to me."
I came into her arms and she kissed me. It was a passionate kiss. My head swam at its intensity. In fact, my head swam until I passed out.
When I woke up, I was in a prison cell, with my hands chained together. "DAMN", I swore to myself. Would I never learn? Little did I know this would happen with monotonous regularity over the years.
The door rattled and swung open. a heavy set man wearing only boots and leather breeches came in. He picked me up and slung me over his shoulder without a word. My senses and strength were still handicapped by the drugs. Although I could have fought, I thought it best to wait. I could see that we were passing a line of cells. From the sounds, some of them were also occupied.
We entered a larger room. A narrow stone staircase went up one wall to the doorway I had undoubtably been brought through while I was unconscious. The heavy set man put me down and then looped my chained hands over a hook. He stepped away and turned a large crank, lifting me into the air until only my toes brushed the floor.
A low chuckle echoed through the room. "Welcome to the, ah, lower levels of my house." A push from the heavy set man sent me slowly turning. The Countess came into my field of vision, along with two hooded men.
"You peasant slut," she snapped at me. "How dare you raise your eyes to me. You looked upon me with lust. Me, whom you should have groveled before. You will be punished for your terminity, like those before you." Her voice rang out and I could hear moans and pleas from the corridor of cells.
"Please Countess," I begged. "Show mercy. Not for me, but for those others. No matter what you think they have done, no matter what power you think you have, stop what you're doing. Show mercy that one day mercy may be shown to you."
She threw back her head and laughed and I heard the madness in her laughter. "You peasant scum. Mercy is only for the weak. Francois, teach her to keep her mouth shut. I want to see blood dripping down her back!"
"Yes Milady," smirked the sweating man. He drew back his arm and the whip cut through the air and into my back. Savagely he struck again, and again, and again. I felt more than saw him step close and examine me. "That's strange, Mistress," he called out. "There is no blood."
My fury had built with the pain of each stroke. The last lingering remnants of the drugs were gone by now. I hungered. I needed to feed. I twisted my wrists and the chains broke. As the foursome stood with their mouths open, I grinned terribly at them and said, "No, but there will be."
Spinning about I grabbed Francois head and twisted. With a sharp crack his neck broke like a thin branch. His body fell forward, his stunned face looking back right between his shoulders. Before the two hooded men could even scream I was upon them. The one on the right I backhanded with the full strength of my arm. He almost flew backwards, toppling into the red hot coals where the irons were heating. His clothing burst into flames and he screamed wildly.