"A Vampire's History of the World" (closed)

[Knightmare27]

He wrapped his arms around her body and carried her to her bed. He knelt a little in front of it and let her sink backwards onto it. As he did, he paused a little, felt her breasts pressed against his chest - their warmth penetrated his shirt, his skin, and went straight to his heart. So helpless, clutching to him like an injured animal. How badly hurt was she? He could see no injuries, and she certainly had not been that weak when she had hurried out of the room. Again.

She was so weak that she was practically hanging off him now. Her weight started to hurt his shoulders a litte.

 

[PennySaver]

Michael laid Claudia upon the bed, and she could have let go of him but didn't. Instead, with her arms now over his shoulders and wrapped behind his neck, she suddenly pulled herself up tight against him ... whispering close to his ear, "Sorry, Michael."

In an instant, two fangs -- very similar in design and function to those of a rattlesnake's -- had flashed out from their resting positions against her top palate and were sunk an inch deep into the soft flesh of his neck. Michael flinched sharply, his entire body tensing at the sudden pain that shot through it. He instinctively tried to pull away but couldn't; she had a tight grip around him now … and within a second and a half, the sedatives and paralytics being pumped into him through ducts in her fangs had essentially rendered Michael unconscious.

He slumped down upon Claudia's chest, causing her to involuntarily exhaled a large gush of air from her crushed lungs. Michael's weight made it difficult for the smaller woman to breath, but -- for the moment -- Claudia couldn't do anything about it. It would be a full thirty or forty minutes before her stomach had digested enough of Michael's lifeforce to begin reviving her beyond human abilities, including the strength she would need to lift to roll Michael from her.

She only consumed as much of her host's blood as needed to bring her back to sustainable levels of life. It would cause him to be woozy when he woke up, but it wouldn't feel as though he'd been to the Red Cross to give blood. When she'd had enough, her fangs ceased pumping out their third chemical, a coagulant meant to keep his blood free flowing. When she could feel the thick red stuff beginning its clotting procedure -- his body's own attempt to heel itself -- she withdrew her fangs entirely and laid them back into the groves in the top of her mouth.

Claudia's mouth remained in place, however, wrapped about the left side of Michael's neck. With her lips and tongue, she sucks and licked as appropriate to collect ever last drip and drop of blood. The saliva in her vampire mouth went to work on the wound itself, the point of entry of her fangs; it soothed and sedated the flesh, preventing it from swelling to greatly or forming bruises. In the morning when he woke up, Michael would notice little more on his neck that was looked like two mosquito bites … and because there had only been two entry points -- again, Hollywood had that wrong by always showing four fangs -- no one would think that the man had been bit by an animal … let alone a vampire.

When she finally could, Claudia very easily rolled Michael off her to the middle of the bed. She rose to sit above him, looking down into his surprisingly peaceful face; her still bare breasts hung over him, just inches from lips that likely would have loved to be suckling them. She contemplated her situation … then blushed.

########################​

It was almost 11am before Michael awoke … in bed … naked … laying next to an equally naked young history buff … beyond which were two empty bottles of wine and an empty condom wrapper … and -- because even passed out he was capable of growing an erection and expelling his seed if properly manipulated, which he had been -- he would, if he looked, find a condom in his trash can, filled with said seed.

It was likely the night he'd imagined having with her … if he'd been able to remember it … or … if it had actually happened.

 

[Knightmare27]

"Sorry for..." was all he could mumble out before everything went dark around him.

Michael woke up. Had he fallen asleep that quickly? Strange. He did not remember undressing... his head did not feel too good, either. Finally, he worked up the strength to sit up and look around. Claudia was next to him, also completely naked - what a lovely sight after an awful night...what had to have been an awful night, anyway.

Wait a second, wine bottles? Why were there wine bottles in the bed? He never drank in bed! Empty? What the hell was happening? He got up and took a further look around the room. A small shiny object next to the young woman caught his attention. He picked it up - a condom wrapper?! As expected, the condom was in the trash, dripping with semen - his own? He got more and more confused and his heart started to pound. Strangely enough, this was enough to make him feel a little faint... he nearly fell over but caught himself on a chair. Sitting down a moment to gather his senses, he tried to make sense of anything that had happened. No success.

Had the poor girl been raped by a burglar? A drunk burglar, judging by the wine bottles? But why had he slept through it all? No, it made no sense. No way she could have been raped entirely silently right next to him. Even if the attacker had raped her somewhere else and then deposited her here, he had to have heard something.

Still, he decided to get dressed and check for himself. All doors were secure, all windows were unbroken. No signs of forced entry at all. More importantly, all his few valuables were still there. Either he had been attacked by the world's quietest sex offender, or it was something else.

But what? The only other explanation was that Claudia herself had done something to him. But what? And why? And, more importantly, why was she still there if that was the case? Nothing had been taken, and there were certainly easier ways to steal two bottles of wine from him. Asking, for example. He was not that fond of wine, anyway.

An odd thought crossed his mind - had she raped him? She was certainly odd enough to give him some kind of knockout drug. But again - why? She could have had sex the same way she could have had wine - by simply asking. What kind of girl was too shy to ask for sex but also bold enough to drug and rape a guy? A girl who alternated between bouncing off the wall like a pinball and collapsing in a crying heap. A girl who knew historical minutia but refused to reveal her source. That was who.

No, nothing made sense. There was only one lead that held any promise, and that lead was probably still sleeping. He went back to the bedroom, put his hands on her shoulders and shook her: "Claudia...wake up!"

His only hope to find out what had happened was her... surely she had seen something, or, more likely, someone suspicious.

 

[PennySaver]

Claudia's senses were now refreshed and renewed, and she'd sensed Michael rolling and rising even before he'd realized he was in bed with her. She chanced a peek through slitted eyes a couple of times, and she could tell that he was confused, possibly even panicked over what the hell had happened the night before. She could have pretended waking at any time, but she waited until he came to her, gently shaking her where she slept on her side on her side with the bedding pushed down to the small of her back.

"Claudia...wake up!"

She feigned being still sleepy as she rolled to her back, fully exposing her torso down to below her belly button. She gave him a pleasant smile, saying sweetly, "G'morning, lover."

From his reaction, Michael left no doubt that he was confused. After a moment, feigning confusion and donning a pouty face, Claudia asked, "Michael … are you … are you sorry you asked to make love to me...? Because … I'm not. Was it the wine?"

Claudia forced her eyes to begin glaze over, as if the water works were about to begin. "Is that the only reason you would make love to me … because you were drunk? I … I thought you wanted to be with me?"

She rolled away from him and pulled the sheet up to hide her bosom as the tears began to cut loose.

 

[Knightmare27]

What? He did not remember drinking those bottles, and neither did he asking her to have sex. The last thing he remembered was picking her up. And since when did he drink that much?

"I do not remember a thing that happened... so I asked you for sex? And then we had some, I guess. But why did we drink that much wine? I do not drink that much, usually? Was I really that drunk?"

So many questions. They flowed out of him as his confusion increased. He had hoped that waking her up would help him answer some questions. Now he was more confused than ever, and she was crying.

Well, did he want to be with her? Had it been the alcohol talking? She was cute, yes, but...

 

[PennySaver]

"I do not remember a thing that happened..."

Claudia let out a perfectly timed sob, burying her face into the pillow on which Michael's head had laid, unmoving, for nearly ten hours. She knew this, of course, because after feeding, Claudia never slept; she simply couldn't even if she wanted to, her reinvirogated body feeling as alive as a normal person on a gallon of espresson and four lines of coke.

His second guessing continued, "...so I asked you for sex? And then we had some, I guess."

At this, Claudia rolled her top half toward her host to look up at him with tear filled eyes. She sobbed, "You told me you wanted me … that you thought I was the most beautiful girl you'd ever met. But … we were drinking wine, so … was it...?"

She pretended like she couldn't finish the question. He asked, "But why did we drink that much wine? I do not drink that much, usually."

"I asked you to open a bottle," Claudia said. At this, she sat up to face him, allowing the bedding to momentarily flash her generous bosom at him before the sheet once again covered her up. "We were talking about France … 15th and 16th centuries … Louis and Francis and Henry … and I asked if you had wine … and you opened a bottle..."

Was I really that drunk?"

Claudia decided this was a good time to conclude the falacy she'd been spinning and reassure Michael that this was all real, even if he couldn't recall it. She let the sheet drop, moved to her knees, and scooted up close to him. Reaching her hands out to take his face in them, she pressed her mouth to his in a lengthy, soft kiss while her breasts pressed against his bare chest.

When she pulled her face back, Michael's eyes were wide and a bit glazed over. She whispered to him, "You weren't … when you asked to make love to me..."

She pressed her mouth to his again, repeated the erotic moment. Again she pulled her lips from his, whispering, "You were sober when you … asked me … to make love to you…"

Michael was mesmerized by the kiss … he was, in all sense of the word, hypnotized. She told him, "We made sweet … passionate … love..."

He repeated, barely audible, "We made sweet … passionate … love..."

She continued, "It was heavenly..."

"It was … heavenly," he parroted.

"Our passion for one another was the reason … not the wine … you wanted me … I wanted you..."

"Our passion … was the reason…" Michael was lost in the words Claudia was feeding him, continuing, "…I wanted you..."

Claudia kissed him one more time ... long … soft … with a combination of love and lust he probably had known since his first years with his wife, she presumed. Claudia pulled back and stared into Michael's eyes for a long moment and simply studied the man. He was deep in the fantasy she'd created for him, and it would take him a good twenty or thirty minutes to come fully out of it and return to reality.

When he did, he would be torn between that fantasy and reality; Claudia never knew how much of what she told her donor would be remembered and believed or how deeply it would be believed. It was quite possible Michael might not believe any of it, that he would return to the same state in which he'd been when he awoke next to Claudia. Or, he might truly believe that he and she had had an amazing night of passionate, satisfying sex.

"I'm going to shower," she whispered after yet another kiss. "If you would like to come join me..."

She slid out of the bed and headed for the bathroom, knowing that Michael wouldn't be standing any time soon. If her hypnotic tale took a firm hold, he'd follow behind her in three, four, five minutes … maybe ten; if she failed, she couldn't know what might happen and she might find him bursting into the bathroom asking What the fuck!?!

 

[Knightmare27]

None of that made sense. What had just happened? Had he fallen asleep again? Strange, he did not feel that sleepy, but it was as if a few minutes were missing just now. He vaguely remembered a conversation. Apparently, they did have sex... hot, passionate sex he could not remember. While sober. What the hell was going on? Yes, he remembered now...

How could he remember without remembering? He clearly knew that they had had sex, but he could not remember how. But it had to have happened. He knew it. Besides, there was that condom. Nice to see that he practiced safe sex even while...sleepwalking? Drunk? No, not drunk. He had been sober. He remembered that clearly. He had wanted her. And then they had fucked, right there on the bed. And now...

She wanted him to join her. Huh? Why had his legs obeyed her before he even remembered that part? Why was he walking? Why was he walking? What was going on? In his dazed state, he tripped over something, stumbled... when he got up again, something had cleared up. Wait a minute! Stop. Think.

He did go to the bathroom, but he was much clearer now. He was on the way to ask some questions.

"What is going on, Claudia? Will you tell me what you drugged me with, or do I have to get you arrested first?"

 

[PennySaver]

Claudia had entered the bathroom, started the water, allowed the stall to begin steaming, and stepped inside before she heard what anyone other than her kind wouldn't have heard in that situation, the sound of the mattress expanding as Michael rose from it. She smiled to herself; the amount of time passing seemed to indicate that her host -- and now donor -- may have accepted what she'd told him during his mesmerized state.

Then there was a crashing sound, followed by Michael coming in and pulling the shower curtain aside, demanding, "What is going on, Claudia? Will you tell me what you drugged me with, or do I have to get you arrested first?"

She just stared at him initially, unsure of how to proceed. She couldn't hypnotize him again; it wouldn't work. She could kill him; that would work, but, c'm'on, Claudia hadn't killed someone who hadn't horribly wronged her in more than a hundred years. She could erupt in tears and sobs again and protest that he hadn't wanted her, that he'd only been drunk and he would have fucked anything with a wet, warm hole.

Or...

"I did drug you, Michael," she lied straight to his face. She'd donned an apologetic expression and dropped her eyes to the tub's edge as she raised an arm to hide most of her bosom, the other hand dropping to hide her unshaved but not entirely wild bush and what was hid within it. "I'm sorry, Michael. I … I just--"

She released another one of her sobs, then finished, "I just needed to be with you last night. Please … please don't call the police. I'll go … if you want."

 

[Knightmare27]

Was there some guilt in that shocked look she was giving him, or was she simply surprised how harshly he had demanded answers? Well, what did she expect, after all this?

He paused for a moment. Did he want her to go? Well, she had just admitted to drugging and raping him, so was there any reason for him not to call the cops? Not yet, he decided. He needed to know details. Why had she drugged him when she had been three-quarters of the way to legitimately seducing him? This did not make any sense.

"No. You stay, and you tell me exactly what happened. We will go over to the bedroom now, you will get dressed and you will tell me."

He risked her just running away, of course, but he was not about to imprison her over this, rapist or not. If she ran, he could just forget this whole weird affair. And if she did not...well, he just had to know the full story!

 

[PennySaver]

Claudia was relieved when Michael told her, "No. You stay, and you tell me exactly what happened."

"I will," she said with a sincere tone, knowing that she wasn't about to tell him the whole truth but that she would tell him enough to hopefully keep him from calling the authorities. She'd spent time locked up during her four centuries, and Claudia had no desire to be locked away again.

"We will go over to the bedroom now, you will get dressed and you will tell me."

"May I finish?" she asked, looking down at the suds that hadn't yet been washed away by the streaming water. "It'll just take a moment."

She pulled the curtain shut again -- not to hide herself from Michael but to prevent more water from hitting the floor. -- and rinsed herself off. She didn't hurry; she took the time to figure out what she wanted to say. When she got out to dry, Michael was in the bedroom. Again, Claudia didn't hurry. When she emerged, she was wearing only her panties and one of his dress shirts; it was unbuttoned to the base of her sternum, revealing the wonderful cleavage of her young old bosom, and the tail barely hid her ass, at least until she sat on the bed and the cheek his direction was again displayed.

She told him about a party she'd gone to a few days earlier, where she had seen some young men showing off their stash of date rape drugs. Claudia had picked one of the man's coat pockets, to protect the women at the party, she said. "I was going to throw them away … but … I thought, what if I get in trouble and need a way out … maybe I should keep them."

Claudia moved her position a bit to move just a bit closer to Michael without appearing threatening. "I wasn't thinking, Michael … when I put them in the wine. We really did drink those two bottles. You just don't remember. I liked you … like you … and … I wanted to be with you … but you got to talking about your wife and her leaving you--"

Up until now, everything she'd said was, essentially, a lie. But Claudia knew that Michael wouldn't be able to determine what was or wasn't true; he might not believe anything she had to say, but Claudia also knew he had no proof she was lying. She continued, "--and I was afraid you wouldn't want to be with me, so … I put the pills in the bottle. I'm sorry, Michael. I just … I wanted to be with you. I … I still want to be with you … again."

At that, Claudia sat up a bit higher and began unbuttoning the shirt. It wouldn't take long, of course, with only 3 buttons fastened. Michael had time to tell her to stop. Question was, would he?

 

[Knightmare27]

Michael seethed. It would take a little more than an apology, adorable or not, for him to excuse her dosing him with a date rape drug! Well, what reason did he have not to hand her over to the cops? Except, of course, that they were unlikely to believe him?

He composed himself enough to speak calmly and with only a hint of fury in his voice: "You raped me! That is not a little oopsie! That is a very serious crime. Do you think I will forgive you that easily? If you were into me - or are into me - just fucking ask! What kind of psycho goes around collecting date rape drugs "just in case", anyway? Have you done that before, you crazy bi-"

He stopped himself, took a deep breath and continued, a little calmer: "Tell me one reason, one reason, not to hand you over for the huge crime you just committed! How did you even know that the dosage was safe? Or that these assholes at that party or whatever weren't lying? Or that it would not have some weird interaction with alcohol? Are you completely stupid? Rape is bad enough, but you could have murdered me! So you are into me? Not enough to stop you from potentially killing me!"

 

[PennySaver]

As Michael was softly rambling through his chastising, Claudia reached the last button on the shirt she'd taken from his closet. She parted the lapels and pulled it off her shoulders, letting it fall behind her to once again expose her bosom to him. She caught his sudden change in demeanor and reminded him with a soft, almost shy voice, "You said all I had to do was ask."

 

[Knightmare27]

He was a little bit calmer now... calm enough at least to realize what she had been doing while he had spat his entire anger at her.

"Yes, you could have asked. Before drugging me. But now? Are you seriously trying to make up for unwanted sex by offering me more sex? Are you out of your mind?"

 

[PennySaver]

Claudia's flirtatious smile faded; this was going nowhere. She gathered up Michael's shirt and pressed it to her bosom as she dismounted the bed. She said softly, "I should go."

If he did nothing to stop her, Claudia would snatch up her clothes and hurry to the bathroom; if he did nothing to stop her, she'd be dressed and gone in under two minutes.

She'd made a mistake; she knew that now. At least she'd fed, though...

 

[Knightmare27]

Should she? On the one hand, she had raped him. On the other hand, he wanted to know why. Her clumsy attempt at seduction had had an oddly calming effect. He now believed that she was not some kind of sex fiend. Just a very strange, very socially awkward girl with no idea how to behave in human society. No sex for now. But maybe some answers...

In a much calmer voice, he said: "Get dressed, stay, and tell me why you did that to me..." - he sighed - ", please."

 

[PennySaver]

"I'm hungry," she murmured, barely loud enough for him to hear. She looked back to Michael, asking, "Can we sit down to breakfast? I'll explain after … I promise."

Later

She ate much differently this morning than she had before; she wasn't frenzied and ravenous. The replenishment of her life force had calmed Claudia a great deal … returned her true self to her.

"I like you, Michael," she began once they'd finished and were sitting at opposite ends of his ratty old couch. She talked about how she didn't like a lot of people and -- in particular -- how she didn't like a lot of men. "Many of them have taken advantage of me … have taken from me what they wanted … then cast me aside."

After a moment she continued, "I like you, Michael … and … I want to stay here with you. But … there are things about me that I can't tell you … things about my past..."

If probably seemed ironic to her host that this little girl who -- looked barely old enough to legally fuck in this state would be telling a man twice her age about her past. But then, her past was over 400 years in length.

"...that, if you would allow me to tell you when the time was right … when I knew I could trust you implicitly with my story … when I knew you were ready to face and accept that story … then … then I would tell you everything you want to know."

She reached for the big mug of coffee he'd given her, sipped, and finished, "If you could give me that time … you would find that it was time well spent … for during that time, I could tell you things you never imagined … things for which you won't easily or readily find proof in your history books but which, with my guidance, you will find in other ways … ways that will make you very happy you kept me around … and kept my secrets … secret."

 

[Knightmare27]

"Well, now you have taken from me what you wanted and cast me aside. Congratulations."

Of course, he was still angry about the events of last night. He had decided to let her stay, not to forgive her. How could he ever forgive her for that? Yes, she was interesting. But she was also irredeemable and only the fact that she was also the most interesting person he had ever met was the reason she was not away in jail right now.

"Things you can not tell me? Come on, what can be worse than what you have already shown me? I know you are homeless, I know you have some weird hang-ups. And now I know you have no problem drugging and raping strangers. Whatever you tell me can not be worse than that, can it? What else can you be? A serial killer? Some kind of drug runner? Is that it? Was that story about the guys at the party a lie?"

He had never seen someone be transformed so thoroughly by a simple meal before. What was it with this girl and food anyway? Not only did she seem to be physically healthier now, as if she had recovered from starvation (no one could be starving after that much pizza, especially not a girl her size!), her personality was also changing. She seemed less frightened now. And that angered him. Had she completely forgotten what he had just caught her doing?

She was being quite confident for a girl who had just tearfully apologized for forcing herself on him. What she promised sounded incredibly intriguing... and incredibly insane. What secrets was she talking about, why did she know them, and why did she keep behaving like she was older than all living humans and born yesterday at the same time? Quite honestly, even after having heard her correct him on all these history topics, he was still skeptical.

Eventually, curiosity won out over his remaining anger. "Well, okay. Stay here. But never do crap like that again."

 

[PennySaver]

Claudia was instantly relieved to learn that not only was she not going to have to kill Michael -- to prevent him from notifying the police about his rape -- but that he was going to let her remain as well. She sipped more from the mug, set it aside, and stood; still wearing only her panties and Michael's dress shirt, she walked about his home gathering things: books, journals, magazines, even a reproduction of a 17th century map he'd had pinned to the wall.

"Do you have your phone handy, or maybe one of those little voice recorders?" she asked when she was ready. "I'm going to throw a lot at you quickly ... and I don't want you to miss out on anything."

And then she began...

Claudia began with a topic that was a point of fact central to Michael's thesis; she opened one publication after another, indicating or reading passages, some written recently, some written decades or centuries earlier. She went about her argument like a professor who'd been rehearsing a lecture for months, not a young woman who shouldn't have even been familiar with most of these publications, let alone be able to find the passages without even referring to the tables of content.

Michael couldn't know, of course, that Claudia had had years, decades, even centuries to read many of these works in her spare time. She did, in fact, have an interest in history, beyond the simple fact that she'd lived it in a way Michael couldn't understand.

"However..." she said after she laid out an argument with which her host fully followed, understood, and agreed ... and after he'd gotten her more coffee. (Vampire or not, Claudia loved her espresso, and starving professor or not, Michael knew his coffee and had a good machine for making it.) She went on, "... this is not precisely how it happened."

Claudia encouraged Michael to take notes as she took him on what might have seemed a fantasy tour of history ... a high school level book report by a slacker who -- rather than having read the assigned material over the past semester -- had waited until the last minute and watched one of those "inspired by" Hollywood movies that, while entertaining, was full of historical errors.

And yet, her argument was sound; at times, she easily supported her claims by finding inconspicuous contradictions or support within Michael's own publications! She was like a walking, talking, super-algorithm-driver AI of undiscovered history.

Claudia finally went silent, lifting her once-again empty coffee mug to indicate to Michael a need for more. She glanced to the clock on the wall as her stomach turned over from hunger; they'd been at this for nearly six hours!

"How about Chinese?" she asked casually.

 

[Knightmare27]

He did have "one of these little voice recorders" somewhere, like most old-fashioned professors. He placed it in front of her and switched it on, then just sat and listened.

As she continued on and on, he felt himself turning back into a student. Again, he wondered if she was delusional and that convincing, or if there was something else going on. He had stopped asking for her for her source, since she always deflected that question. He had also stopped asking how much of it was true. He was just taking notes now, and decided to worry about verifying all that stuff later.

Michael got up to make her more coffee, and pick up the delivery menu for her to peruse. She was drinking it at rates that would have made his heart race. He rarely drank more than two cups a day, but it had to be good. As he waited for the coffee to finish, he took the time to lean against the counter a little. It was the first time he had absorbed so much historical knowledge it had actually made him dizzy. Now he knew how his students probably felt.

He was not really that hungry yet, but he now knew that she had to be ravenous. In fact, had he ever seen her go without food for that long? More importantly, where was it all going? How could a woman who seemed to consume her body weight in food every day keep said weight so low? Anyway, he obliged her, and brought the menu back to her. Now that she reminded him, he felt hungry too. Oh well, they had worked long enough...

"There you go. Order something for yourself. Thanks for your...interesting...perspective on history."

He handed her the menu. "I would say we continue with the history lecture later. I still know next to nothing about you. Don't worry, I will not ask about whatever horrible thing happened in your past..." - he felt himself tense up in preparation for another panic from her - "...but I want to know why you...do things the way you do."

He sat a little closer, but not uncomfortably so. "You are different from any woman I have ever met. And I don't just mean your secrets. I ask myself other things. Things like: If you are so desperate for sex, why drug me? Sorry to be so direct, but with the way you look, you just have to ask for that. Why didn't you? Has no one ever told you you are...attractive? I don't believe that..."

He stopped himself before he started sounding too much like an old creeper. He had almost been about to say "Have you ever had sex before?" before realizing how that would have sounded while sitting next to a woman young enough to be a student. Still, if he was going to unravel her mysteries, he wanted to start with the one where he had every right to know.

 

[PennySaver]

Michael retrieved the delivery menu for a nearby Chinese restaurant and gave it to Claudia, telling her enough about history and more about her. She thought about it for a moment as she sipped on what was likely her 8th cup of coffee for the day. She couldn't tell him the truth, of course, but she'd learned over four centuries that it was easier to remember the truths you told than the lies. She decided she would stick as close to the former as she could.

First, though, she dealt with his comments about her sexuality. "You are different from any woman I have ever met. And I don't just mean your secrets. I ask myself other things. Things like: If you are so desperate for sex, why drug me? Sorry to be so direct, but with the way you look, you just have to ask for that. Why didn't you? Has no one ever told you you are...attractive? I don't believe that..."

"Part of that history of me about which I do not wish to discuss," she began with a tentative tone, "is that … sexually … I have had some disappointments in my life … and difficulties. It is hard for someone like me to … I don't know how to say it … be aggressive...? No, that's not it. To … maintain control … of a situation … of an encounter, a sexual encounter … to ensure that I get from that encounter what I want … without having to give too much of myself."

Claudia was having a hard time explaining herself. She'd never been asked these questions before in this way by a man like Michael for whom she had the thoughts and feelings she had for him. She decided to skip this portion of the conversation for now.

"I was born in the French countryside, west of Paris, near Bourdonné. My parents were poor, rural, unsophisticated … simple. In an earlier age, they would likely have been called peasants. When I was little ... nine years of age … a man … a stranger … he came to our home from Paris and told my parents that he needed a servant in his home … a young girl, who was disciplined and honest and loyal … who could be trained to clean, to cook, to care for his home … for him. He promised that I would be well cared for, that I would be educated in the Arts of numbers and letters … to be literate. I would not be mistreated in any way, he vowed. And when, after my age had doubled to that of a woman, he would give me the option of returning home … of continuing to work for him … or of leaving to go to university, for which he would offer financial support."

Claudia couldn't tell Michael that from age nine to eighteen, that man had fed on her neck periodically to fill his need for human blood, so she skipped to, "Later, when I had become a woman … he began visiting me in my bedroom at night. I didn't welcome him to my bed … but I didn't stop him from coming to it either. He wasn't mean or cruel … and … though by today's definition it was sexual abuse, I didn't know it was then, thus I did nothing to stop him.

"He died," she suddenly with a touch of emotion in her tone. "He left the house one day to accomplish things … and he simply never returned. I left. I had no where to go, so … I simply moved about. Amiens … Luxembourg, no where in particular … London then Leeds then Edinburgh."

Claudia realized that she was naming too many towns for the number of years she could have been traveling as a regular human girl. She incorrectly clarified just a few months in each … but, while I was there in these very historic places, I spent every waking moment learning of those places … learning of the people for which they'd been famous. I met people who showed me obscure books and pamphlets and diaries and other such sourced of ancient knowledge … and in the process, I came to understand that a great deal of the information we believe is factual … isn't. Learning this became somewhat of an obsession from me, so much so that I only cared about learning, learning, learning … at the cost of ever having a normal life."

There was a knock at the door, and Michael went to collect their order.

 

[Knightmare27]

He watched with some fascination as she drank another cup of coffee. Most likely, that was not the explanation for her being a weirdo, but it certainly wasn't helping. No, there had to be something else. He still hoped she was just entertainingly strange, and not someone who was actually mentally ill. He had no idea how to deal with that.

"I...see. So, because you have been controlled in sexual situations so much, you now want to be in total control? Hmm...that does not excuse anything you did to me, of course, but I think I begin to understand. Well, it was obvious that someone who did what you did had to have some odd sexual hangup somewhere. Still, it is a big leap from 'disappointments' to...this. If I poisoned people every time I got disappointed, I..."

He could feel anger rise back up in him and stopped himself. It was better if he dropped that topic for now. There was something else in there she was not telling him. Another thing she was not telling him. Getting anything out of that girl about her life story was more difficult than the most frustrating of archive searches. At least, there, you only had to deal with contradictory and missing sources. Not a young woman who decided to be stubborn for no apparent reason at all.

When she told him snippets of her life story, it sounded like something from a bygone age. When she was nine? That would have been 15 years ago, at most! Who made deals like that nowadays? Taking a little kid away as a servant girl with the promise of education? That had to be all kinds of illegal. Not to mention strangely old-fashioned. Rural France could be quaint in places, he knew that from his own travels. But it was quaint not pre-revolutionary.

Another odd turn of phrase. Today's definition? It was like she was talking about history again, even though her history barely stretched back two decades! Well, at least the admission of sexual abuse made it a little clearer where she had learned that date rape was no big deal.

"Oh, I am sorry to hear that. And does it really matter if he was mean or cruel? Did you want it? No? Then he had no right to do that. End of story. Stop making excuses for him."

It was as if his anger at her was now focused on that unknown villain, who took little girls away for child labor and was now a rapist too. He hoped with all his heart she was telling the truth about him waiting for her to turn into a woman before he did that. Michael was not normally a violent person, but he felt some very odd thoughts rising up.

Something did not add up about her story, but he decided to let her strange "I was an incredibly mobile vagabond and also a history buff" explanation slide for now and filed it together with her other implausible lies about the source of her knowledge.

"All that travelling... well, I guess you really did have nowhere else to go. At least you had learned how to be a maid, I guess... plenty of people need help like that..."

Michael got up to bring them their order. He insisted on pouring it out onto proper plates before bringing it to her, setting the two dishes in front of them. He was still not that hungry, so he took his time.

"Thanks. I understand you a lot better now. You really have an unusual past. If you want, I can let you stay here for now. As you can see, the house is a bit too big for me alone anyway."

She was beautiful. She was fascinating. She was mysterious. She had also sexually assaulted him, and he would never forget that. But somehow, that did not matter now. Lust and curiosity had taken him in their midst and were pushing him around.

 

[PennySaver]

"If you want, I can let you stay here for now," Michael said as they were eating. "As you can see, the house is a bit too big for me alone anyway."

"Thank you, Michael ... thank you very much," she said with a wide smile. "You won't be sorry, I promise. I dont take up much room or ask for too much. I might talk your ear off at times … about history mostly … but then, that's what brought us together, right?"

They chatted about the changes they'd have to make to having a woman in the home again. She would be given the spare room and would have half the drawers and counter space in the bathroom. To that, Claudia laughed. "I don't have anything to occupy half the bath. Maybe … maybe I clean for you … earn some money to buy things. A girl's gotta have girly things, right? That's what being a girl's all about."

After some more chatting, Claudia asked bluntly, "Tell me about your wife. Or … about why she's no longer your wife."

 

[Knightmare27]

She was, indeed, being very girly. Cute, even, and he could not help but giggle at her enthusiasm for "girly things". "Hey, easy there. I was offering you a place to stay, not a job. Although, frankly... the place could use a little bit of cleaning. But for now, you can just stay here and keep me company."

She was being so sweet and all smiles now. It almost made him forget her more...predatory side. No, this was the girl again. Refreshing, heartwarming, a little sun shining just for him.

"Ah yes, Claire... well... I think I just overlooked certain facts about the two of us. We got married early, and then we just never stopped to look back. When we did - well. There was no big fight, or anything. I never liked those anyway. We just woke up one day and realized that there was nothing between us. I do not even know if there ever was. Now, don't get me wrong. It was not one of those consensual divorces, either. It was... all very painful."

He stopped. He never talked about this whole thing. It was not even the pain. He had just...broken with that time.

 

[PennySaver]

"Ah yes, Claire... well..."

Michael spoke a moment about his ex-wife ... but it was only a moment. Claudia knew there was far more to the story than that; she also knew Michael had no desire to speak about that story right now, so she let it go.

They spoke more about the living arrangements, then about some of the more interesting furnishings of Michael's home, with Claudia telling him playfully, "I'd say you should spend some money on a decorator, but then … most of this stuff suits you, your personality, and your line of work."

It was that comment that slid them into a conversation about 17th century religious politics, which was the topic of his recent work. Claudia leaped right into a conversation about the three Civil Wars in England that so radically the political and religious landscape; about the political conflicts between what she called the two Charles'; about the Battle of Worcester and the creation of the Commonwealth of England; about Oliver Cromwell (for whom Claudia didn't have a lot of nice things to say, almost as if she'd known him personally); about the end of the Church of England's monopoly on Christian worship; and, finally, about the realization by the English monarchs that they could no longer govern without Parliament's consent.

Claudia had been rambling on and on, with Michael once again taking notes and recording her on the little tape player when she suddenly realized a mistake she'd been making: often, instead of saying I read somewhere that or I saw somewhere that, she'd been saying things in a very personal context: I remember that or When I saw that…

When she went quiet, Claudia studied Michael's expression for a moment in an effort to determine whether or not he'd caught it, too. Maybe she'd get lucky and he hadn't. Or, maybe she'd get lucky and he simply wouldn't ask.

 

[Knightmare27]

There was something off about the way she talked about history. It was so...unscholarly. Yet it was fascinating. She was fascinating. He was listening attentively, but the more she talked, the more he became interested in her personal history. He knew she would avoid any more direct questions, but he just had to know. Her claims about herself made about as much sense as her historical ones.

As fun as all this was, he decided it was time to take a break. Luckily, he had no fixed appointments that day, but there was work to be done. Maybe that would take his mind off her for a little bit. Oh, whom was he kidding? He knew very well that she would take his mind of his work instead! Still, he could not forget that he had a job to do, as much as he wanted to spend the rest of his life talking history with her, and maybe something more...

"Claudia, how about we take a little break? I am behind on my work, and I am sure you need some rest, too, right?" - he thought about something - "By the way, can you cook? If not, I will leave you some money here so you can order yourself something. I am sure you will get hungry...", he added with a sly smile, still wondering where all that food ended up...", and I will be gone for a few hours. Feel free to read my books or whatever you want. Just...don't cross out things you disagree with or something..."

That last one had been a joke, but it was a real danger. She was forceful, and enthusiastic, and, strangely, seemed to know enough about history that she would probably find errors in half the books he owned. Hell, maybe even Dracula. She was weird enough that she would probably find mistakes in that book, too, who knew?