Inspired by a Melody is a monthly feature--the songs change.
You may remember Miriam from another flashfic I wrote HERE. If I decide to write her book, this would likely be a flashback.
September 11, 1888
Miriam strolled through the Whitechapel district of London sidestepping the puddles and swallowing back the bile creeping up her throat from the stench. And hunger. This area of London was full of evil. They’d lie to get their way, keep their neck from the noose. There wasn’t a shortage of meals for her here. She simply needed to settle on one.
Would it be liars? Cheaters? Thieves? Acid burned her esophagus. Some days it didn’t pay to be a vampire with a conscience.
Drawn to the red door of the brothel, Miriam stood outside and allowed calm to wash over her. Tonight, she would be a protector of those less able to do so for themselves.
When she stepped inside, rosewater assaulted her. The working women used it to keep their scent fresh–to cover the stench of sex. It probably hadn’t been necessary–it wasn’t as though men came to a brothel to fulfil fantasies of fucking a virgin.
Maybe some did, but everyone knew it was just that–a fantasy.
She strolled into the parlor, eager to meet the women on duty and hopefully find out which gentleman callers were rougher than agreed upon.
A somber woman–petite and dressed in Victorian mourning clothes–approached her. “Good evening. Are you here to pay your respects?” The woman had dark circles beneath her eyes and she sighed heavily, as though the weight of the world rested on her shoulders.
Miriam shook her head. “I’m sorry for your loss. Are you open this evening? I’m…an author and I’d like to observe the interactions between men and women for a book.”
“We are taking callers even though poor Maggie was found dead this morning–killed by the Ripper they say. They won’t release her body to us so we can hold a proper wake just yet.”
Miriam placed her gloved hand on the woman’s forearm. “That’s horrible. I’ll completely understand if you’d rather I wasn’t here.”
“C’mon in, love. Maggie never met a stranger. I’m sure you’ve been fast friends already.” The woman lead Miriam to a seating area. “I’m Jane.” She turned to the seated ladies. “Girls, this is–”
“Miriam. I’m an author and I’d like to observe the goings on in a brothel for a book I’m writing.”
Jane chuckled. “I thought Miriam here had come to pay her respects. The news of Maggie, I’m afraid, just isn’t important enough to be common knowledge on the streets of Whitechapel.”
“Oh, I’m sure people are remembering Maggie fondly–I just don’t get around people much, what with the writing and other business I must tend to,” Miriam said.
“Ya got a husband?” one woman clad in undergarments asked.
Miriam shook her head. “No. I don’t need one.”
The front door opened and a man walked in. He removed his overcoat and hat before stepping into the doorway of the parlor and looking around the room expectantly. “You’re open for business?” he asked.
Miriam felt her eyeteeth lengthen and struggled to keep them hidden behind her lips. She stared at the man as his eyes met hers menacingly. This fucker is a horrible man. She could scent the evil rolling from him in waves. It carried a bitter metallic tang as it infused her lungs.
“Lizzie, why don’t you take the man’s coat?” Jane said.
Lizzie wore a red lace shift and nothing beneath. Miriam could see the crack of her very fine ass as she sauntered toward the attractive man in the entryway. Lizzie walked around the man, examining him in a manner similar to how he perused her body. Finally, she stood in front of him with her hands on the sides of her breasts. She shoved the ample fleshy mounds together and tipped her head back, exposing the creamy column of her throat for several seconds. Then, she straightened herself and said, “Can I take those for you, sir?”
“About damn time.” He scowled.
Miriam gasped and her hand fluttered to her throat. Murder.
Lizzie linked her arm with his and guided him toward an armchair next to the fireplace. “What’s your name, lover?”
“You can call me Jack.” He settled in the seat and Lizzie disappeared with his coat and hat.
Miriam leaned toward her host. “Do you think I could…seduce him and take him upstairs? I’ll give Lizzie the fee. I just want to know what it feels like, fucking a man.”
Jane’s eyes grew round. “You’ll do the deed and give away the coins you earned? That’s awfully generous of you. I’m sure Lizzie won’t mind–this bloke was in last week and Maggie took him upstairs. Bastard was rough with her, but we need the money right now–all the girls are giving their share towards Maggie’s funeral.”
“That’s actually perfect. I–have a way with disrespectful men.” Miriam smiled, flashing a bit of fang.
Jane gasped. “Whatever you like, mistress. I–I’ll tell the others.”
Miriam placed her gloved hand on Jane’s forearm. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not dangerous to you.” Miriam concentrated and willed Jane to relax.
Jane nodded and smiled, visibly allowing tension to drain from her body. “You’re beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to be your lover. In thanks, we have a few girls who go both ways. I’m sure they’d be happy to show you a good time, later.”
Miriam chuckled. “I’ll think about it. I shouldn’t be long with this one.”
Still wearing the garb of a proper lady, Miriam approached the fire and stood to warm her hands. She removed her gloves and put them inside her handbag. Still staring at the dancing flame, she announced, “It’ll be me you’re fucking tonight. Same rate as always, but there’ll be no manhandling.” She turned and pinned him with her stare. “Are we clear?”
The man nodded and Miriam could see his trousers tented with his arousal.
Jane stood in the door of the parlor. “Mistress, Master Jack? This way, please.” Jane led them up the grand staircase and swung open the door to the first bedroom on the right. “Here we are.”
Miriam entered the room. A bed stood in the center, and the wrought iron posts were cold when she trailed her fingers over them.
“You’ll find implements of pleasure in the armoire. Please help yourself,” Jane said before she closed the door.
Miriam heard her footsteps quickly retreating down the stairs.
Jack stood before her, hands on his hips and holding open his daycoat. His dick pointed at her inside his pants. “Take off your clothes. I want you disrobed and kneeling on the floor, ready to suck my cock.”
Miriam worked the buttons of her high-necked dress. “Oh, I’m definitely ready to suck on something.” Her closed-mouth smile probably looked predatory. Because it was.
But, dear ol’ Jack was apparently lacking blood in his brain because he wasn’t too concerned.
Miriam was only removing her clothes to avoid blood stains. “What brings you to this lovely establishment, sir?”
“I met a lovely girl a bit ago. Was hoping to see her again, but she wasn’t downstairs. Thought maybe she was already hired but was too afraid to ask,” he said.
Lies. “It might be your lucky day. This is my first time, so you’ll be able to break me in for this kind of work.”
He stepped toward her and grabbed her upper arms, pulling her flush against his body, his erection poking her belly. He smashed his lips against hers, and prodded the seam of her lips with his tongue.
She allowed access.
As he swept his tongue inside, he nicked it against her incisor.
The flavor of his blood burst on her tongue and he stepped back, watching her intently. “I’m not sure this will work out between us.”
Miriam pushed out more calm and his expression became less suspicious. She said, “I think it will.” She unbuttoned the cuffs of her blouse and removed it, neatly hanging the garment over the back of a chair at the foot of the bed.
“You’re right. It will. I do want to be your first. I promise I’ll make it good for you this time–but we probably shouldn’t do this again because I want to mark up your skin to a lovely shade of red. I want to watch bruises bloom on your ass. But not today,” he said.
“I’ll bet you’d be surprised at what I can handle,” she said as she stepped out of her skirt. She folded it over the back of the chair, over her shirt.
That fucker killed me last night. He left me in a dirty alley to bleed out after he slit open my belly and took my innards out. He cut something away and stuffed my guts back inside. God, woman. Be careful with this one or you’ll end up just like me.
She was part of him already. Maggie.
Another voice sounded in Miriam’s head. He did the same to me a few weeks ago. There are three others, too.
“Sorry, I’m not going to beat you up. I want to have you suck my cock for a bit and then I’ll make love to you–so it won’t hurt the next time you have a…date.” His eyes were soft, apologetic. Like he actually cared about Miriam and her well-being.
“That’s so sweet. I think I love you,” she whispered, looking up at him from beneath her lashes.
A voice piped up inside her head. What the hell are you doing? Don’t let him touch you–you’ll be next! Another voice chimed in. I don’t think so. I think Miriam is here to avenge our deaths.
Miriam smiled. “That I am.”
Jack’s puzzled look warned Miriam she’d spoken aloud. She said, “You asked if I was ready, didn’t you?”
He grinned. “Huh. I thought the words–didn’t think they came out my mouth.”
She shrugged and sent out more calm.
Jack unzipped his pants and let his trousers drop to his ankles. His underwear followed. “On your knees, then.”
Miriam shook her head. “Wouldn’t we be more comfortable on the bed?”
He shrugged. “If you think so. As long as my willie is in your mouth, I don’t care.”
Ew! Don’t do it–he tastes horrible!
Miriam shook away the words of the rogue voice. She didn’t plan to have his member inside her at all.
Jack stretched out on the bed, his hands pillowing his head.
Perfect. She kneeled on the edge of the bed and unbuttoned his shirt. Then, she leaned over to kiss him, but instead of her lips meeting his, she licked her way from his jaw to his carotid artery and let her tongue dance with each beat of his heart.
The voices started talking again. Oh, yes. You know what you’re doing, don’t you.
The other voice piped up, Ha! He’s squirming around like he’s going to fuck you.
Miriam nipped the delicate skin of his neck, and a thin line of blood welled. She licked it away, anesthetizing the area and giving Jack the toxin in her saliva that would prevent him from clotting and make him her sex slave–if she left him alive. Which, she wouldn’t.
She let a few minutes pass as Jack thrust his hips into the air and moaned.
Satisfied with the progress–a drop of blood rolled down his neck–Miriam struck Jack’s neck with her fangs and began to suckle.
Yes! The voices cheered her on as she drained him.
Eventually, he stopped thrusting his dick into the air, and then he stopped moving altogether.
And the voices became farther and farther away as the beat of Jack’s heart slowed. The whispers stopped when Jack died. Miriam searched for remnants of Maggie’s consciousness–and that of any of the other four but found nothing. They were at peace.
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