SOULBOUND ‡ waif
By Wes
Leigh
This is a work of fiction (or
is it?) intended solely for the entertainment of my readers. It includes
references to historical people and places, in particular, the London borough
of Whitechapel and its streets. I also wish to make a special acknowledgement
of Bram Stoker's ground-breaking novel Dracula, which spawned a new genre of
literature, the Gothic horror tale, and led to countless movies and novels that
inspired and horrified generations of fans. This story includes several (not so
subtle) references to Mr. Stoker and his novel, by which I intend no disrespect,
but rather acknowledge his inspiration of my foray into the realm of vampires.
This story is the property of
the author and is protected by copyright laws. The author retains all rights.
No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent.
If you enjoy this story,
please support the Nifty archives today with a thoughtful donation by visiting https://donate.nifty.org/. Readers who would like to chat are encouraged to
contact me at weston.leigh@protonmail.com.
On the whole it may be accepted as a correct opinion that
immoral relations before marriage among the lower classes are not unusual, and
are indulgently regarded.
-- From Life And Labour Of The People In London, by Charles Booth
"I'll get to the stables as quick as I can," Zavy said,
rushing the opposite direction down the street with the empty beer bucket in
one hand. "Let Old Man McCoy know I had to get milk for Mum first."
Reggie and Jack nodded and ran across the street, then cut
through an alley. It was the fastest way to Wentworth Street and the stables,
passing behind a row of well-kept homes on Halifax Road. Halfway down the
alley, they found themselves behind a tidy garden inside a high wall. As they
passed the garden gate, they heard a soft voice calling, "Hello, boys."
They stopped and turned. A young woman in a flowing black
gown stood just inside the gate. Her skin was shockingly white, contrasting
starkly with the black dress she wore. They couldn't see her eyes, which were
covered with dark brown shades. She stared at the two of them with a hungry
smile. "Where are you two lovely lads off to in such a hurry this morning?" she
asked.
Reggie approached the gate and leaned his hand on the wall
next to it. "Headed to work."
Jack grabbed Reggie's shoulder and tugged. "Come on then, Reg.
We can't be late."
The woman smiled haughtily and glanced down at the white
skin of her arm. She reached over with the other hand and sensuously ran her
fingers down the length of her arm. Reggie watched, entranced. The woman
glanced up at Reggie and muttered, "Oh, no, it would be a shame if you were
late for work. Best hustle along, little boys." She giggled at
her own mockery, making Jack bristle and Reggie puff out his chest.
"We're men, not boys," Reggie replied.
The woman slowly scanned Reggie's body from head to toe,
then looked back up, pausing at his waist. "That may be true," she replied,
"but your little friend seems impatient to be on his way. You'll have to show
me how much of a man you are after work, I suppose." She turned
her back on the boys and walked slowly away.
Jack tugged on Reggie's arm. "Let's go, mate. What are you
hanging about for?"
Reggie jerked his arm out of Jack's grip. "What's wrong with
you, Jacko? Couldn't you see she wanted a bit of fun this morning?"
Jack stepped back, his face flushed.
"Didn't you see her glasses, Reg?"
Shrugging, Reggie replied, "Course I did. So?"
"So? She's probably got the bad blood," Jack hissed.
Reggie shook his head. "You're imagining things. Her skin
was perfect."
Jack shrugged. "Don't know anyone as young as her that wears eyeshades, `less they caught the bad blood. You
go messing with her and you'll have blisters on your pego
for sure."
"You're full of horse shit!" Reggie exclaimed.
"Ya. And we'd best hurry it up or
we'll miss a chance to be shoveling horse shit and making a pence
or two," Jack replied, walking backward down the alley.
Reggie glanced back into the tidy garden longingly, but the
woman was nowhere to be seen. He broke into a trot and caught up to Jack, and
both boys ran down the alley, headed for Old Man McCoy's stable.
͠ ͠ ͠
Zavy turned the corner and saw a group of men and women
standing between him and the market. It was early in the day for Zavy, but probably
late in the night for them, judging by the way they were wobbling about,
leaning on each other and laughing uncontrollably. They paused as Zavy
approached, and one woman broke away from the others, stumbling toward Zavy.
"What `ave we `ere?" she asked,
her speech slurred and her eyes struggling to focus. She squinted at Zavy and
said, "It's a bit late for you to be out, luv. Shouldn't you be home in bed?"
Zavy grimaced and moved into the street to avoid the woman,
but she lurched in front of him and grabbed his shoulders to keep from falling
down. Somehow, he managed to catch her and keep her on her feet, though he
dropped the bucket in the process.
The woman stared at the bucket, confused for a moment. Then
she turned to Zavy and spoke into his face, alcoholic vapors washing over him
as she talked. "It's too early for beer, luv. They won't be selling any `til
later. Where you going with that bucket, luv?"
Zavy turned his face to the side, avoiding most of her
noxious breath. "It's not for beer," he replied. "I'm headed to market to get
milk for me mum and family."
"Did you hear that?" the woman asked her friends, who
laughed and nodded. She turned back to Zavy. "What a good boy, you are. Getting
milk for the family." She turned to her friends. "He's getting milk. What a
helpful, helpful lad." She giggled and pulled down the top of her gown,
exposing one of her pendulous breasts. "No need for you to trudge down t'market, lad. Not when Polly has a bubbie
full of milk for ya'." She squeezed her breast and
lifted it toward Zavy, wiggling it about suggestively.
Zavy leapt away, leaving the woman with no support and
causing her to fall in a heap in the street.
"Hey, now," she complained. "Why'd ya'
drop old Polly on t'ground like that?" Her friends
were laughing and slapping their knees, which irritated her even more. "Don't
just stand there a hooting. Help me up!"
Two of the men walked forward and lifted Polly out of the
street, standing her back on her feet, though it was hard to say how long she'd
remain upright.
She glared at Zavy and struggled to return her breast back
inside her dress. "A lady offers you a bubbie like
this and ya' takes a good suckle on it, if ya' knows what you're about." She squinted at him. "Unless ya' don't like what the ladies are offering. Are ya' one of them girlie boys?"
Zavy shook his head in disgust. "Nah. I ain't a girlie boy. But
then, you ain't a lady either."
Polly stared at him, confused. "What are ya'
saying, boy?"
Zavy dashed forward, grabbed the bucket, and ran down the
street. Shouting back over his shoulder, he yelled, "You're a trollop!"
Polly held up both hands with middle fingers raised, cursing
at Zavy's retreating back, while Polly's friends
began laughing again, harder than before.
͠ ͠ ͠
McCoy didn't have much work for them that day. They finished before noon, but he still paid
them generously, giving them three pence each. When they put away their tools,
he walked them out onto the street and glared at the cluster of Wentworth lads
huddled together on the corner until they shuffled off down the street. "I
reckon now's a good time for you three to head home," he said, nodding at the
Hanbury boys.
"Thanks for everything, sir," Zavy said, shaking McCoy's
hand.
"You lot work hard for me. Appreciate it, I do." McCoy clapped
Zavy on the shoulder and turned to head back inside the stables.
Zavy motioned for Reggie and Jack to follow him, heading the
opposite direction the Wentworth boys had gone. Ducking into an alley, they
decided to cut across to Halifax before heading for Hanbury, hoping to
completely miss any Worthies hanging about. A shout behind them made them look
back. The Worthies must have anticipated their route, because they were a half
block back and running after them.
"Move it, lads!" Reggie shouted, sprinting forward.
The three of them turned the next corner with the Worthies
hard on their heels. It was the alley behind Halifax, so the safety of Hanbury
wasn't far now. A bit of trash in the alley tripped up Jack, who tumbled and
landed sprawled out on the ground. Zavy and Reggie stopped and grabbed his
arms, pulling him to his feet, but that pause gave the Worthies all the time
they needed to close the gap. Sliding to a stop all around the three Hanbury
boys, the Worthies panted and laughed.
Flanders, their red-headed leader, snarled, "Lookie lookie lookie, we caught us some
Hanbury quims. Good for nothing but a quick fuck in the alley, eh boys?"
A garden gate opened behind the Hanbury boys. The pale woman
in the black gown stepped out, her head tilted down, her dark eyes staring over
the top of her brown eyeshades at all the boys. Her voice was low and sultry as
she said, "Boys, boys, boys. Such gutter language! My ears are burning from
hearing this course vulgarity."
Flanders gulped and pulled his hat off his head, holding it
against his chest. "Apologies, me lady. Didn't know anyone was there in your
garden."
The woman glided forward and placed a fingertip on Flanders'
chest, moving it down toward his stomach and pulling away as she reached the
top of his pants. "No apologies required. I see now it was my mistake. What I
thought were young hooligans, cursing in my alley, are actually young men,
blowing off steam with a bit of loose talk." Her voice seemed to caress all the
boys, and Flanders' pants quickly tented out in front.
The woman glanced down and smirked. "Although it doesn't
bother me to have young men rollicking in the alley, I can think of a much
better use for all that young energy." She smiled and glanced sideways at
Reggie, who's cock was also straining to break out of his pants. "Perhaps you
boys would like to come inside and have a cool drink in my garden."
Zavy shook his head. "We haven't the time, ma'am. We're
expected back home shortly." He tugged on Reggie's arm, urging him to follow. Jack
grabbed Reggie's other arm, and the three slipped past the Wentworth boys, who
were all staring eagerly at the woman now.
She shrugged and turned to go back inside her garden, all
five of the Wentworth boys following her.
Reggie bit his lip, frustrated. If the Wentworth lads hadn't
gone inside with her, he'd have followed the woman, no matter what Zavy and
Jack said. Getting your cock blown by a mate was fine for a bit of relief, but
Reggie wanted more, and the woman was young enough. Not old and wrinkled like
the whores on Wingate and Middlesex Road. And despite what Jack had said, he
was sure she didn't have the bad blood. She looked healthy, and he really
wanted to see what she had under that dark gown of hers.
͠ ͠ ͠
The boys gave Crawley six pence, keeping back three for
themselves. He sent them out for pork pies and beer, and after the family had
eaten its full, the three wandered the street that afternoon, talking.
"Her skin was perfect," Reggie said, tired of Jack's harping
about how the woman was sure to have the bad blood. "No sores. No blisters. She
don't have the bad blood, I say."
"Then why'd she wear the glasses?"
Jack asked, for the third time. "Only old people with bad eyes and those with
the bad blood wear eyeshades like that. Their eyes can't handle bright
sunlight. She has to have bad blood."
Reggie pushed Jack against the side of a building and held
him there. "Shut up about it, Jacko. I don't wanna
hear any more from you."
Zavy pulled Reggie off the smaller boy. "Hey, Reg. Calm down.
Why are you so upset?"
Reggie turned to Zavy and frowned. "I'm tired of hearing about
how she's got bad blood. She's beautiful, and she's perfect." But he released
his hold on the front of Jack's shirt and stomped off down the street.
Zavy stared at Jack.
Jack whispered, "Bad blood."
Zavy glared, making it clear with his eyes that Jack should
drop the subject.
Jack rolled his eyes, but nodded. If Reggie wanted to make a
fool of himself with a high-class whore, who was Jack to stop him. One day,
when Reggie's pego shriveled up and fell off, he'd
come to Jack, hat in hand, and apologize for not listening.
Zavy trotted after Reggie, throwing his arm around his
cousin's shoulders. "What do you wanna do this
afternoon, Reg?"
"Don't know," Reggie replied. "Maybe buy a quart of wine and
find a quiet place to drink."
"Mum doesn't like it when we drink away the day," Jack
mumbled, catching up to the two of them. "She says we'll end up like Crawley."
"We won't end like Crawley," Zavy replied. "And it's only
wine. We've worked hard this week, and we deserve it."
Reggie handed Zavy his last pence. "You'd best get it, Zavy.
Tell `em it's for your mum. They know she likes a
glass every now and then."
Zavy nodded and took the copper coin from Reggie. Jack
handed his over as well. "Get us a good bottle," Jack requested. "That cheap
shit makes me stomach lurch and me head hurt."
͠ ͠ ͠
Reggie leaned up, shoving his elbows behind him to hold
himself off the ground. Zavy and Jack were stretched out beside him, snoring
softly in the shade of the tree.
The wine had been just what they needed to relax on a cool Autumn day. It had even stirred up Jack's horny side, and
he'd given both the older boys a good suck in between swigs on the bottle,
before falling asleep next to Zavy. Zavy had laughed at Jack, then had pulled
the boy into his arms and fallen asleep cuddling him.
Reggie looked at them, happy they enjoyed each other, but
knowing it wasn't what he wanted from life. Reggie thought about the pale woman
in the garden, picturing her kneeling before the Wentworth boys, giving them
pleasure one by one. Her pale fingers would feel so tantalizing moving up his stomach
and down his legs. Her mouth would be soft and warm on his cock. Her body would
be cool beneath his own as he thrust up inside her. Her eyes would beg him to
please her, as no man had ever done before.
Reggie squeezed his hard shaft and moved the pants about,
giving himself a bit more space. Fuck the wine. Fuck sleeping away the
afternoon.
He stood to his feet, waiting for the world to stop
lurching, and walked shakily toward Halifax Road.
͠ ͠ ͠
By the time Reggie reached the alley behind Halifax Road,
his head was finally beginning to clear. He was still a bit muddled, but the
sexual anticipation had burned away most of the fog. He stopped at the gate
behind the woman's house and peered through the bars into the garden.
Nothing. No one about. Nothing but the chirps of birds in
the trees.
Reggie sighed, disappointed and kicking himself. What did he
expect, after all? The woman wasn't going to be hanging about, waiting for a
horny teen like himself to show up one afternoon for a quick fuck on the grass.
He leaned back against the cold wall and stared up into the
sky. "You're a right fool, Reginald Gregorio Gibbs. A right fool." He chuckled
and pushed off the wall. Might as well wander back to the lads and wake them
up. They'd all three find something to do with the rest of the day, no doubt.
A twig snapping caused him to turn his head quickly and look
into the garden. The pale woman was walking slowly toward him, her lips curled
into a knowing smile. She floated to the garden gate and touched the latch. The
gate slid silently open. She looked over the top of her eyeshades at Reggie and
beckoned slowly with one finger.
He swallowed hard and stumbled forward, passing through the
gate. The woman placed one hand on his shoulder and pushed the gate shut behind
him. Then she urged him to walk before her, up the path, deeper into the
garden.
As he rounded the path, he stopped, shocked. Sprawled out on
the grass, naked as the day they were born, were the Wentworth lads. They were
all asleep, arms akimbo, legs splayed, soft cocks resting in pools of cum on
their stomachs. Reggie's mouth fell open. They must
have had wine too, strong wine judging by the looks of it.
He turned to stare at the woman, his eyes silently asking
her for an explanation.
She smiled and lifted a finger to caress Reggie's cheek. Her
nail scratched him slightly as she dragged it across his skin, down the line of
his jaw, and underneath to his neck, pausing at the artery throbbing in his
throat. She licked her lips and sighed, turning her head slightly to get a
better look at the pulsing vessel filled with his life blood. Removing her
eyeshades, her eyes seemed to glow and turn red.
Reggie didn't have time to panic. His mind went dark, and he
remembered nothing else.
The end of SOULBOUND ‡ WAIF, Chapter Three