Date: Mon, 5 Jul 2010 04:29:45 +0100
From: Jen Carob <jenifty@gmail.com>
Subject: Led into Shadow 2

Chapter 2

In due course the wedding came and went, and our new step-mother became as
much a part of our lives as our governess and the few maids we had about
the house. She treated father kindly, and in return he seemed quietly
besotted with her. Satisfied that his daughters were in good hands, he
retired more and more often to his studies and his writings, and some days
we would not see him at all, as he became in the habit of taking his meals
in the library whenever he was engrossed.

Our step-mother was a lady of unusual habits herself. In keeping with the
languid, almost luxurious demeanour which she projected she rose late,
coming down well after midday most often. And she often seemed lethargic
and distracted during the daylight hours. After dark, however the contrast
could not have been more vivid, and she would even call for her horse late
at night, and wrapping a thick velvet cloak about her, would disappear into
the night, riding side-saddle at a gallop. Thinking back now, it was odd
that father should have indulged such behaviour, but he was lost in his
quill and his books.

It was only slowly that the cracks in our family's veneer of normality
began to show, and dark and hungry things began to stir beneath the
surface. The first inkling I had was in my thirteenth year, when my nights
began to be disturbed by visions of growing unease and intensity.

I still shared my chamber with my sister at that age, although her presence
was to be little comfort to me in my nightmares. At first it was nothing
but an odd sensation as I crossed over from the waking world into
dreaming. I would feel as if I were falling, being dragged down into my bed
by a strong current, a sensation I would barely recall when I woke. But as
they continued, I became aware that as I was pulled under a cloud of hot
dark silk wrapped and billowed around me, tangling my limbs and blocking my
sight. If I struggled it only pulled tighter, and wrapping silken bolts
around me, held me fast. Incapacitated by this faceless force, I tried to
call out, but when I opened my mouth, the black thing invaded my mouth and
stoppered me. Thus assaulted and overcome, I would wake with a rush and
find my night dress soaked with a cold sweat, while Severine slumbered in
ignorance of my distress.

Often I lay awake for a long while after these episodes, afraid to sleep in
case the dream overtook me once more. Our young governess Mademoiselle
Courtauld slept in the room across the hall, but I feared to move from my
bed, and besides, what power could she wield over nightmares? In the
darkness of my bed chamber, and seemingly alone in the world it was no easy
task to soothe myself from the terror of the awful dream. Every shadow
seemed to conceal menace, and I imagined I saw things move in the corner of
my eye.

In a sane world, such fears are unfounded, for in reality nothing lurks in
the shadows of the night, but alas I was to learn that for me such fears
were justified. As I lay in my bed after one of my night horrors, casting a
fearful glance around the room, I was suddenly overcome by a dizzying
sensation as if swooning. The room swam, and the shadows about me became
like liquid, flowing and swirling. Struggling to find a point upon which to
focus, my attention fell on the door of my wardrobe, which was standing
ajar. Only the shadows within it seemed immune to the sickening motion of
the rest of the room, and I sat up and got unsteadily to my feet to move
towards it. As I did, the darkness within the wardrobe swelled, and blew a
warm breeze that sent a shiver across my sweat-soaked skin. With the rest
of the room still writhing, I glided numbly into the safe darkness of the
wardrobe, closing the door after me.

Once within, my head cleared, and I took stock of the situation. Either
side of me, clothes hung harmlessly, and I reached out and touched the bare
wooden sides. All appeared normal, although it was preternaturally dark,
and I could not tell if my eyes were open or not. After standing a moment
in this state, I imagined I felt something brush delicately against the
back of my hand, though I had not moved. Fear rose again in my stomach. I
felt a feather-light touch on my cheek, and turned to see if I could feel
what had touched me. There was nothing there. Frozen I stood, still
thinking I had imagined it. But after a moment I felt a flurry of light
caresses up the back of my legs and thighs under my night dress. I reached
for what could have touched me, but there was nothing, and as I did I felt
another wave travel up from my wrists, along the inside of my arms, and
across my chest. It was warm within the dark wardrobe, and even though the
cause was unknown, the touches were not unpleasant. Vainly I felt for what
could be causing them, but even as I did a pattering of them flowed from
the back of my scalp, down the back of my neck and down my back, passing
lightly over my buttocks. I realized that these touches were passing
directly over my skin, underneath my night dress, and the impossibility of
it sent a little spurt of fear inside me.

Almost as if feeding on my new fear, the touches returned, swelling and
dividing. They flowed over my naked skin, and I trembled at the pleasure of
it, even as my stomach sank in terror. I braced myself against the wooden
walls of the wardrobe, and concentrated on the caresses. They followed the
curves of my body, a wave passing from the soles of my feet up my legs,
swirling around my inner thighs and passing up the cleft of my buttocks,
shockingly tickling my anus for the briefest of moments before growing
firmer on my lower back, almost like hands pressing. Then it was soft and
ephemeral again, splitting and passing around both sides of my waist and
caressing the soft skin of my belly, joining and moving as a wave up my
chest and delightfully stimulating the sensitive nipples of my small
breasts. Now there were waves of tickles and caresses all over me, and I
tilted my head back as they played wonderfully up my soft throat, while
another wave worked it's way down from my belly button, flowing teasingly
and warmly over my pubis and finding it's way between my thighs to pulsate
deliciously against my virgin parts.

My fear was rapidly becoming forgotten as I became lost in the pleasurable
sensations flowing over me, but an unmistakable sensation of hot breath in
my ear tweaked a rush of fearful juices inside. In response the flurrying
caresses redoubled, and their attentions upon my breasts became firmer,
while a cascade of featherlight touches played on my clitoris and a languid
finger of stimulation traveled wetly up and down my labia, teasing them
apart. I became aware of a force gripping both my wrists as I braced myself
against the interior of the wardrobe, and the breath in my ear returned and
slid downwards over my neck, and I imagined it felt as if a forked tongue
would, flickering on my skin. Now I could definitely make out some of the
flutters on my body coalescing into firm hands, which clasped me about my
waist. With my head still flung back and my back arched the tongue slid up
my throat, and waves of pleasure flowed and played all over my skin.
Suddenly the tongue on my naked throat seemed to grow and become a hot
gaping maw, and I felt a sharp pain like two long needles piercing me and
felt wet blood begin to flow.

I shot straight upright in my bed, almost crying out in pain. My hand
clutched to my neck, but found no wound, and in the moonlight I could see
Severine slumbering idyllically in her bed. This time my sweat was hot and
my night dress clung to me wetly. Yet I shivered, and pulling the
bedclothes tight about me I sat fearfully until dawn crept into the room
and banished the shadows at last.