Avalon Revamped

by O. M. Grey

  “Oh. I see, but, it can’t be! I mean, I came here to—I’m ready to—I mean, I’m ready, Rod. I’m ready to give myself to you. Completely in love and desire. All for you. You already have my heart, my love. Right? After what we shared the other night. You said that was a proper courtship, right? Well it’s time for the wedding night, then, even if there shall be no wedding. You still have my heart and I want to give you my body, too. Just grant me this one request, please. Then if you want me to go, I shall. I promise.”

  Upon hearing this, his eyes widened once again, then he commenced to rubbing his crotch and moaning, “Oh! Oh! Oh!” After a moment or two of that, he picked up the stuffed bobcat and began rubbing up against that as well, continuing, “Oh! Oh! Oh!”

  “Yes, my love,” I said, trying my damnedest not to laugh at this absurd display. “Yes! Let me please you. Could we go upstairs, perhaps? Oh, Nimrod, let me love you, just for today. Let us go and love one another, like in a proper courtship.”

  “Oh! Oh! Oh! Yes! Just this once. Yes! Real love, a proper courtship, even if just for a few moments. I am a gentleman—Oh! Oh! Oh!—after all. Must be proper. Yes, indeed! Oh! Oh! Oh!—Luther!” he shouted, still writhing against the stuffed cat and groaning his delight. “Leonard! Oh! Oh! Oh!”

  “It’s Lionel, sir.” The sadness in his voice, the humiliation, reinforced my resolve.

  “Go and get some tea, will you? I believe we are out of tea. Yes. Must have enough tea. Go on, then, and be gone at least fifteen minutes.” He licked his lips and gyrated against the cat even faster. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Better make that twenty.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As Lionel closed the front door behind him, Nimrod put the stuffed bobcat down and bolted up the stairs, taking two at once, and I trotted up behind him, giggling. Once we arrived in his bedchamber, full of even more taxidermal animals, including a bear raised on his hind legs, he leapt on the bed and shed his clothes. “Come on then,” he said. “Bring that tight fanny over here.”

  “Let me watch you first, my love. I want to see your entire body wanting me, aching for me. Then I shall change for you. You won’t believe it, my love. You won’t believe your eyes when you see all of me.”

  “Oh, yes! Yes, indeed! Are you ready for all of this?” He ripped the ribbon out of his stringy hair, shaking it loose about his shoulders and then bucked his hips up in thrusting motions, erection bouncing quite comically. “Look at that there! Oh yes! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!”

  “Sit back against the headboard now, and spread your arms and legs out wide. Yes, that’s right. Oh, my! You are so very delicious.”

  Pathetic, I meant.

  “Ready for me, love?”

  “Oh, yes. Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!”

  Honestly. This man was beyond comical.

  As I disrobed for him, I changed into Constance’s countenance. He was so busy looking at my breasts and other parts that he didn’t even notice until I spoke again, my voice altogether different. “Here I come.”

  I slinked toward the bed, reticule dangling from one wrist.

  “Blimey! Who are you? How did you…Well, really doesn’t matter. One minge is as good as the next. Come and get it, sweetheart. Sit on this. Oh! Oh! Oh!” he moaned, bucking his hips up and down, up and down, causing his erection to make a fap—fap—fap sound against his stomach.

  “Oh, I am going to enjoy this so much, you revolting lush.”

  “What you got in there, love? A pea? Oh! Did you bring some opium? Yes, that would make this perfect. Perfect, I say! A bit of a pea then a bit of me!” He put extra emphasis on the word me, and thrust his hips toward me as I knelt between his spread legs.

  “No, love, not a pea, but rather a few tools I’ll need.” I took out a large pair of scissors, my straight razor, and his personal poppet. “Did I ever tell you my favorite food?”

  The smile from his face dropped, and horror filled his eyes as he realized he couldn’t move. Muscles tense, trying to pull his hands away from the headboard, but there was no escape.

  He was mine now.

  “What have you done? What are you, woman? A witch? Help! Help!”

  “No one can hear you. You sent your butler away, remember? How utterly appalling you refer to another human being as a simian because of his skin color. Atrocious, indeed. You don’t even bother to remember his name, but then you don’t respect other people, do you Nimrod? You certainly don’t respect women, that’s quite apparent. You don’t respect your wife or your children, always betraying them with others. You don’t respect the peace of others. In fact, the only thing that matters to you is this thing.”

  Throwing a leg over each hip, I straddled him and leaned in really close to his face, snipping my scissors in his ear.

  “Stop! Please, don’t.”

  “You remember poor Claire the other night on the ship? Isn’t that what she said? Don’t. No. Stop. But you didn’t listen. You forced her. You forced me.” I grabbed a fistful of long, greasy, black hair and cut it off with one snip of my loppers.

  Now, tears streamed down his cheeks.

  Satisfying tears.

  Good.

  “I didn’t! You…she wanted it. She came to my room at midnight! What did she expect? Charades? Please. I’m a bloke! That’s what blokes do?”

  “No. That’s what rapists do. What did she expect? She expected you to be a gentleman, as you so often claimed you were. She expected you to be decent. To be kind. She expected you to love her. After all, it’s what you promised her.” I had settled back down between his legs and picked up the poppet, stuffing the hair clippings inside.

  “Don’t be daft, woman. A doctor and a chambermaid. What! What! Besides, I have responsibilities, family. Surely she knew. What are you doing there?”

  “She was seventeen. And before her, Nimrod. How many others? What about your students? Hmm? Miss Greenslade? Miss Dorton? Making them touch your John Thomas, while protected from prying eyes, or should I say, witnesses, tucked away in your office. Telling them how much you want to fuck them, telling them every time you look at them in class all you could think about was fucking them? Pinning them on the couch and writhing against them or worse.”

  With a quick flick of my wrist, the razor cut into his leg, drawing blood.

  “Ow! Please! No, please!”

  Holding the poppet just beneath the cut, I caught a few drops of blood in the opening beneath its neck, then continued, “As if women don’t have a hard enough time in university, the few there are, and you make it infinitely worse. Then, how you make them earn their grade. Yes. I know about you, doctor. How many lives have you ruined, Nimrod? How many other women have you made promises of love, of kindness and friendship, and then discarded them once you had used them for your own pleasure? Hmm?”

  After I had cinched the poppet’s head shut and put it aside, I picked up my straight razor again. Looking down at his juicy erection, I licked my lips, then said, “Sausage, by the way. Sausage is my favorite food, if you were curious.”

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I know I only have myself to blame, but I’m so lonely, you see. I haven’t felt loved in years, and I just want to be loved. I just…please.” He grimaced. The scraping sound of me flipping the razor opened and closed over and over grated his nerves, judging from the grimace on his face and his squinty eyes. That brightened my day. “Please don’t hurt me! Please! I’ll do anything you like. I’ll leave my wife. I’ll marry you. Is that what you want? You want all of this to yourself? You can have me. Please, just don’t hurt me.”

  I threw my head back and laughed out loud. “You must be joking. You are pathetic.”

  “I’m a celebrated professor. Hunter and explorer,” he said, thrusting his chest out.

  “That’s quite enough from you,” I said, twirling my finger around and around in mid-air. A black cord whipped around his lips, in and out, sewing his mouth shut. “There.” I wiggled the yellow poppet in front of his terrified eyes, bulged out of his head even more than usual.
“More of a resemblance already.”

  Tears. Lots of tears and muffled whimpers, making his thin lips puff out between the stitching.

  “Oh. Pity. Tears, now. The same tears you use to coerce your victims with pity. Yes, you do understand the power of pity used over a kind woman, don’t you? Behind those tears this time is fear, Nimrod, much like the fear you instill in your prey. The fear you will feel from this minute forward until you have suffered as much as the women you’ve hurt have suffered. The women you’ve traumatized.”

  He shook his head violently, pleading with his eyes.

  “But first, dinner.” Remarkably, his erection was still as full and throbbing as before. “Mmmm. A juicy sausage tonight, I see. How very delicious, indeed.”

  The scream that came from the back of his throat and through his flared nostrils was music to my ears.

  §

  On my way home from the doctor’s, my tools and his black-heart poppet tucked safely back inside my reticule, I came across a woman weeping in an alleyway. Not surprising, as every night there are more injured souls than the last, but most fall beneath my notice because either my focus is elsewhere, on a particular client, or their collective agony makes for a symphony of sorrow that permeates the air, making one individual indistiguishable from the next. However, my power heightened from my recent meal, I felt her immediately and almost became ill right on the street, not expecting such a fervent wave of sorrow. After composing myself, I turned down the alley to see if there was anything I could do. The sight of me made her jump and put her arms up in a defensive position.

  I already knew what had happened.

  “What is it, my dear? Is there anything I can do?”

  “No one believes me,” she cried. “The peelers, me friends. No one.”

  “Peelers? You mean the police?”

  “No one. Them peelers, they—No. I learned to keep quiet now, I have. Just makin’ it worse for meself. I know better now. Keep quiet. I know that. I know it. Good day, miss.” A curt nod, then she tried to move past me.

  “Wait, please. I will believe you.” I rested a hand on her trembling shoulder. “I promise. You’re safe with me.”

  “Well, me husband, ya see. He drinks too much sometimes and does finks to me, and I know he don’ mean it. I know he loves me an’ all, but this last time he went too far. It’s not just me anymore, you see. It’s our daughter now, too. An’ I can’t bear it, so I told the police. Just want my daughter safe, is all. Me is one fink, Miss. I’m his wife, after all. His property. But he won’t do that to me daughter. But them peelers…they…”

  Silent sobs screamed in my ears, and her sorrow filled my heart. I caught my balance on the brick wall, weak from her pain. “It’s all right,” I breathed, strengthening the protective walls around me. “You’re safe now. It’s all right. Please, just tell me. What did the police do?”

  “They laughed at me and told me I had better keep quiet. Me ‘usband’s the butcher round ‘ere, see? Respected, ‘e is. They told me to keep quiet or they’d make sure I stayed quiet, them peelers did. I wouldn’t stay quiet, though, Miss. I see how I was wrong now. I just need to do what I’m told is all. That’s all. Then everyfink will be all right again. Me daughter will be all right. Right, Miss? She’ll have to learn to take it, too. Just like all of us. We just have to take it, is all. Just take it and keep quiet. It’s not so bad, really. Just take it and keep quiet. That’s what I’ll do, Miss. She’ll learn to do it, too.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Mary, Miss.”

  “Mary, what did the peelers do?”

  Mary wept again, and when I moved to comfort her, the light of the gaslamp fell on her face. She had bruises, and her dress was torn. “I see. They just did this to you, did they?”

  “They did. Both of them together, Miss. You believe me, right, Miss? Please say you believe me!” She grabbed a fistful of sleeve in each hand, shaking me in her desperation.

  “Of course I believe you. I passed a couple of coppers on the way down the street. Would you be able to have a look around the corner and tell me if those are the ones who hurt you?”

  “No! Miss. I mean, I don’t want no more trouble. I’ve got to get ‘ome, ya see. But ‘e’ll know, won’t ‘e? My ‘usband, ‘e’ll know what they done, and then ‘e’ll punish me again. I’m scared, Miss! I don’t know what to do.”

  “Look into my eyes,” I said, stooping down and facing the light so she could see. “Believe me when I say I will take care of those coppers, all right? Your husband, too.”

  “Not my ‘usband, Miss. ‘e don’t mean it, and we can’t eat without ‘im. We’d be on the streets. Don’t hurt ‘im! Please don’t hurt ‘im!”

  “I promise I won’t hurt him, Mary, but I will stop him from hurting you. All right? Those coppers, on the other hand, they’re meant to protect you, and they just hurt you again. They won’t get away so easily. Just have a look around the corner. They won’t see you. I promise. Are they the ones?”

  Hiding under my arm, she peeked down the street, and then she whipped back around, flattening herself against the brick wall, sheltered by the darkness of the alley. Her breath heavy and deep, gasping for breath. Eyes wide.

  “It’s all right, Mary. They can’t hurt you again. Give me a few minutes, and they’ll never hurt anyone again. All right?”

  “All right.”

  “And your husband’s butcher shop. Is it the one here in Southwark Street?”

  “Yes, Miss. But don’t ‘urt ‘im!”

  “I shan’t. I’ll just scare him, all right? He’ll be a kind as can be when he gets home. All right?”

  “All right.”

  “Now, you go home now and care for your daughter. You did the right thing to protect her. He won’t hurt either of you ever again, or he’ll have me to answer to.”

  “Who are you, Miss?”

  “I’m your protector, Mary. Yours, and all women’s.” As I spoke the words, I shifted form and visage right in front of her. She crossed herself, whispering to her god.

  “Are you a witch?” she asked.

  “No, Mary, I’m much more powerful than a witch, and much more dangerous. Go on home and care for yourself and your daughter. Be happy. I think you’ll find your husband all too willing to put your happiness first now, yours and your daughter’s, too. Take this,” I said, removing a white feather from my reticule. “I can hear you through this. Keep it safe. This way I will know if your husband is behaving as a husband should, or if I need to return. Just speak to the feather like you’re speaking to me. You’re safe now.”

  “Thank you, Miss! Thank you!”

  Mary went off behind me, and I stood in the street, shielding her from the police who smoked cigarettes and stood beneath a gaslamp on the corner, laughing. No doubt about their recent villainy.

  “Help! Police!” I cried, gaining their attention. I had turned myself into a young barmaid, blonde hair a touch disheveled and rosy cheeks. I’d tell them of a true tale, something that happened all too recently, for even while spinning my web, I would never lie about something so important, so horrific and soul-destroying as rape.

  The two men trotted down to where I stood, just on the edge of the alley, and I told them my tale.

  "So, ya say, ya had relations with the bloke in question, did ya?" Constable Davis, judging from his name plate, said. The enjoyment in his eyes turned my stomach.

  "No! Constable, no! I didn't. He forced me. In me mouth as well, and he enjoyed it, he did. I tried to push him away, but he just came at me harder, sir."

  "Ah! So ya gave him oral pleasure." The constables exchanged knowing looks and winked before the first copper wrote in his notebook, speaking as he did so: "She remembers giving oral sex at one point to the suspect."

  "No! No, I didn't give him anything, constable! Please, listen to me. Please. He was brutal, violent."

  "Look, Miss. We wasn't there, alrigh'. We wasn't there, so we don' know wha'appened. You're
talking about a very stand-up member of the community, whoever this bloke is. Y'understand this is a very serious accusation, Miss, don't ya?"

  "It's a very serious offense, sir!"

  "Yes, well that might be, if it's true. Who are you? And look what yer wearin'. Can't blame the bloke, really. No. I fink you prolly jus' regret it. Ya didn't tell him to stop, after all, did ya?"

  “I—I couldn't speak. I was gagging on his—he was choking me!"

  "Maybe he was tryin' to send you a message, Miss. Keep your bleedin' mouth shut, or he'll shut it for ya. Good lesson for a woman to learn, nice an’ early, don’t ya fink, ‘owards?”

  “Yes, indeed,” Constable Howards replied.

  “In fact, I fink that's a fine idea. Marvin,” he indicated his partner with a nod, “help this fine lady learn that, would ya?” Marvin laughed as he grabbed me, and I shrieked as he pulled me down the alley. I put up a fight, and a few passersby looked momentarily, but didn't want to be involved in police business. After all, the police were there to protect the community. In the minds of passersby, I had obviously had done something wrong.

  Marvin covered my mouth to ensure I didn’t scream and bent me over some crates, holding my head flat against the hard crates. I heard his belt buckle jingle. Up the alley, Constable Davis snuffed, laughed, and unfastened his trousers as he headed toward us.

  “Busy night,” he said to himself, chuckling.

  It certainly was, I mused.

  This time I didn’t even let them get started before I finished it, finished them.

  It had been a long day, after all.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ARTHUR

  “M’Lord?” Thomas whispered through my chamber door. “Excuse me, M’Lord, but it’s just gone four. The captain is set to arrive within the hour, M’Lord. I thought you might fancy a cup of tea before that.”