Chapter 14
I didn’t even want to go to the visiting circus called Grimm Fair. Mother had raved for weeks about the shows that the circus put on, however, and I couldn’t bear to disappoint her.
I agreed to escort her there on opening night, and that is why I met my beloved, Wilhelmina Payne.
Thank God for my mother. Or perhaps I should curse her, since the story ended so sadly.
Grimm Fair was coming to the countryside outside of London for the entire summer. It was so close to our home that we would smell the decadent foods and hear the sounds of revelry through the nights until the circus finally packed up and moved on.
That first night, I lifted Mother down from the carriage and carried her over a mud puddle, then put her down and gave her my arm to escort her into the fair. It was twilight. A fellow was going around with his torch, lighting the lamps. People were dressed in their finest summer clothing and walked about with looks of sheer delight. The sounds of excited children, laughing wives, and spirited husbands lifted my spirits as soon as we bought our tickets and walked through the gate.
The show my mother wanted to see was about to begin, and we followed signs to the tent that would host it. On either side of the entrance were life size elaborate posters featuring illustrations of a woman who stopped me in my tracks. Wonderful Wilhelmina was what the posters said in ornate script. They showed a woman with long slender legs and arms, a narrow waist and voluptuous hips and bosoms. Her limbs bent and twisted in the pictures, and her face looked enraptured. Even the faded illustrations portrayed a creature enchanting. A woman who utterly bewitched me on sight.
My heart raced and I could scarcely wait to get inside the tent.
The audience was ushered into rows of chairs in the darkened tent that were lit only by bundles of candles flickering around the edges. There were already people in nearly every seat, though the stage was empty. The tent was stifling hot and smelled of sweat and animal waste. But there was also the aroma from the candles and a hint of bittersweet opium. Incense burned and sent wisps of smoke up above our heads and the scent mingled strangely with the other unpleasant smells.
Music from a small ensemble to the left of the stage began as soon as we sat down. Mother took my hand and squeezed it. I looked down at her rosy cheeks and girlish smile, and I chuckled. Her joy was delightful.
A ringmaster appeared, taking the stage from a curtain in the back. He was absurdly tall and thin as a skeleton. His cheeks were so hollow and eyes so sunken that he looked like a walking skeleton. The sight of him sent a chill up my spine despite the sickly heat in the place.
“Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves for a sight both wondrous and strange. Feast your eyes upon the unparalleled contortionist, the Wonderful Wilhelmina!”
The audience gasped, partly because of the odd, monstrous quality to the ugly man’s voice, and also because Wilhelmina had taken the stage.
My breath caught in my throat, and I don’t think I breathed once during her entire performance.
She wore a form fitting costume that looked like undergarments. Provocative undergarments. I’d never seen a woman in public like that. The costume was made of midnight blue shimmering material with silver stars embroidered in it that seemed to twinkle in the candlelight. There was a filmy bustle attached to the back, but it was cut very high on her thighs and low on her neckline. There were no sleeves, which made it possible to see all her tattoos on full display.
Her arms were covered in a dazzling celestial portrait of an opulent blue sky filled with clouds, suns, rainbows and angels. Her legs were also covered in an elaborate celestial design, but the sky was the color of the night, twinkling with stars, moons, and constellations. She was an enchanting work of art.
She danced onto the stage, each movement purposeful and fluid. When she reached the center of the stage with her back to the crowd, she bent backwards, her long wavy hair cascading and splaying to the floor like a waterfall. She kept bending, her head dipping between her legs until her chin came to rest on the floor. My heart hitched in my chest as I beheld her lithe body arched into an impossible shape, shining in the candlelight.
Wilhelmina put on a show I would never forget. Nobody in the audience would. Her ability to twist every joint in her body in ways that would break any man. Her ability to dance and sway like her very body was made of haunting music. Her ability to stretch and spread herself beyond human comprehension. She mesmerized us all. But she stole my heart.
I made excuses after the show to keep Mother entertained and at the circus for the remainder of the evening. Finally, the time came for Wilhelmina’s last show came and went. I had Mother situated in a tent eating a sandwich that dripped with grease while I stole away to the contortionist’s tent. I was waiting by the rear stage exit when she came out.
She jumped when she saw me, and my heart broke as fear marred her beautiful pale face.
“Oh, dear, I’m sorry,” I cried. “I don’t mean to startle you! I simply… I simply wanted to meet you. You are enchanting.”
Wilhelmina gave me a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you,” she said. She was pulling on a silky robe over her costume when she walked out, and I noticed she hurried to don the cover quicker.
My cheeks flamed. “I’m sorry, Miss. I… I’m certain you hear that all the time.”
She smiled again, a little more warmly this time. “Well, yes. That is true.”
“It is not my wish to be like everyone else,” I said softly. Emotion caught in my throat, strangling my voice a bit. But I stared into her eyes anyway, despite my slip in manliness.
Her eyes snapped to mine. “Oh?” she said.
“Definitely not,” I said, a little lower and with another slow smile.
I visited the Grimm Fair every evening for a month. Every night after her show, I managed to steal a few moments with her, strolling in the moonlight, holding hands and laughing. I treasured every moment with her, but there were things I observed. Things I certainly did not treasure.
Bruises, for one. Beautiful tattoos covered so much of her skin, yet sometimes black spatterings of bruises like fingerprints appeared amongst the designs. Bruises so vivid and brutal that they still stood out among the lovely chaos of her.
Sometimes she limped. When asked, she would attribute her aches and pains to the rigorous routine of practicing and performing her act. But I knew differently. Watching her body move, it was obvious that it had long ago become second nature to her. Obvious that swaying, twisting, and bending caused her no pain.
So how was she being hurt?
I noticed when the ringmaster barked commands at her, her beautiful blue eyes would take on a sudden haunted look. His voice could snap her out of a happy moment in an instant and send her fleeing back to him. When I asked her who he was to her, she explained he was her father. How such a ghastly looking man had begotten such a lovely daughter was beyond me. But I quickly came to hate the sound of his voice and the frightened look in her eyes when she heard it.
Some evenings, while Wilhelmina performed, I would wander about the carnival playing games to win her little trinkets. I would’ve gladly watched every show, but she didn’t want her father to notice me. So I got to know some of the other circus entertainers and the carnival workers. Little by little, I asked questions and learned about my darling Wilhelmina.
And the devils who had raised her.
It was soon clear that Wilhelmina had lived a life of violence and terror at the hands of her wicked father and two brutish, drunken brothers. Most of the people of the Grimm Fair were in the Payne family. But those who weren’t related loved Wilhelmina and were eager to see her rescued from the Fair.
One fellow was a carnival barker who took notice of me. He looked around mine and Wilhelmina’s age. Aside from his poor clothing, dark tattoos, and disheveled appearance and demeanor, I knew he was what the ladies would consider very attractive. I learned his name was Mattheo. At first, he was cross with me and borderline rude. But I realized he was in love with Wilhelmina. I certainly couldn’t blame him .
It was one rainy evening when I would discover just how much.
I awaited Wilhelmina outside the contortionist tent, as usual. My spot was beneath a tree and some distance off to the side. I was to wait for her to finish, dress, and sneak away to come to me. This night was different, however.
Her father, the ringmaster, gripped her arm and ripped her out of the back tent flap into the rainy night. She shrieked as her father hurtled her into the mud. “Goddamn you girl!” he roared in his strange thin voice.
Her beautiful costume splattered with muck and mire and her hair became instantly drenched in the downpour. Her makeup ran and gave her crying face an unearthly, eerie quality.
I took a slight step forward, not quite emerging from the shadows. I wanted to do what Wilhelmina would want me to do, which would likely be: stay hidden.
But I also wanted to murder Emmett Payne, the evil bastard who fathered the great love of my life.
Next, Emmett Payne drew back his leg and aimed his heavily booted huge foot directly at Wilhelmina’s face.
Naturally, I exploded.
I don’t recall closing the distance between us, but in a flash of fury, I had him down in the mud and was slamming my fists into his face. I was surprised how little fight such a big man put forth. Especially one who was so tough that he was about to kick the face in of his own daughter. Yet, with great ease, I slammed one fist, and then my other, and then the first, and then the other again, down into his hollow face. Again, and again. I heard the bones in his face crunch. I heard the bones in my hands crunch. But I kept hitting him, anyway. I saw the blood mixed with the splashing rain on the blackening bruised flesh of my knuckles and I tasted it, splattering up into my face. Deranged in that moment, I thought it was good I was old enough to be safe from our curse. That’s what I was thinking when Payne’s body stopped moving altogether. And his guttural groans and wet gurgling pleas for mercy went quiet.
Her voice came to me like it was coming from a down a long tunnel.
“! , please!”
My ears started to ring and all the sudden I could hear everything else besides our breaking bones.
Wilhelmina was hitting my back and pulling on my soaking wet coat, begging me off her father. Mattheo was also on my back, and then a mime, a clown and a man shorter than three feet were on me too, struggling to pull me off Emmett.
My body became weak, and I let them jerk me back. I fell back into the mud, exhausted. Spent. Wilhelmina tumbled down on top of me, her face buried in my chest and weeping.
After a few seconds of trying to calm my spinning head, I scooted into a sitting position and lifted her onto my lap, cradling her against me. I caressed her face and hid her eyes from her deathly still father, who scarcely had a face left. It certainly wasn’t a recognizable one.
His chest was decidedly still, free of the rise and fall of life.
I noticed how all the circus performers who had gathered in the little back alley had makeup running down their faces and necks in little multicolored rivulets that made them all look like a child’s nightmares.
Mattheo heaved in great breaths, his muscles twitching. He vibrated as the adrenaline coursed through him. He thrust his hand down to me. I took it and allowed him to help hoist me and Wilhelmina to our feet.
“Can you get her out of here?” Mattheo hissed urgently.
Her face popped up and peered into mine. I looked down at her and tried to read what she must be thinking.
“I don’t suppose I’ll be able to once the authorities arrive,” I whispered sadly, answering him, but gazing at her.
Mattheo reached forward and took me by the shoulders, shaking me a little, and gently moving Wilhelmina aside in the process. “Listen to me, man,” he snarled, rainwater spraying off his grimacing face. “You can’t stay here. You’ve got to go. And you’ve got to take Wilhelmina with you. Get her out of here! Keep her safe! Never return.”
Wilhelmina cried a mournful sob.
“But I… I’ve killed a man,” I said, the realization of what I’d done beginning to sink in. My life was destroyed. I was a murderer.
And I would’ve done it again in a heartbeat.
Mattheo tore at my shirt collar and shook me again, much harder this time. “, pay attention! Understand me now. You must go. Take Wilhelmina, get in your carriage, and never, ever speak of this night again. Not to anyone. I will take care of everything. I’ll get rid of this rat bastard before the devil even knows he’s in hell. And if anybody ever does come round asking about him, we’ll make it like you were never at this god forsaken fair. Do you understand?”
I stared openmouthed at him. And the mime, the clown and the small man. They all nodded their agreement. The dwarf had stepped forward to hold Wilhelmina’s hand. He looked up at her with the utmost love.
People who couldn’t protect her before. Vowing now to protect her.
Mattheo shook me again. “? You’ll have to trust me! Can you? Can you do it?”
My spine straightened, and I spun to wrap my arms around Wilhelmina and pull her into my chest. “Yes, yes, of course. Thank you, Mattheo.”
She pulled away from me for just a moment to throw her arms around Mattheo. Then the mime, then the clown, and finally, she fell to her knees to embrace the small man, who wept against her shoulder. Finally, she pulled away from them and raced back into my arms. I ducked my head and held her close, and we hurried out of Grimm Fair, never to return again.
In the carriage on the way back to Blackmoth House, Wilhelmina climbed upon my lap. She was still crying and drawing ragged breaths. But she clawed at my tie and my collar, ripped at my buttons. I grasped her trembling hands and stopped her.
“Wilhelmina, you don’t need to do this,” I said quietly.
She jerked her hands free of mine and resumed her frantic pursuit of undressing me. I reached up to cup her face in my hands. “Wilhelmina…”
But she interrupted me by crushing her lips to mine.
I growled into her mouth and my hands slipped down her body and around her waist. She was so tiny that my large hands almost completely encircled her.
She pushed back my coat and ripped open my shirt, running her cold wet hands through the hair on my chest.
This was wrong, and I knew it. But she swirled her tongue in my mouth and raked her fingernails over my cold skin and I passed a point of no return.
I palmed her breasts through the thin fabric of the costume she still wore. Still kissing me, she panted into my mouth and reached behind herself to untie the laces at her neck. With one simple pull of the strings, it fell away and revealed her wet tattooed flesh to me. She glistened in the moonlight as though her skin was made of magic. I dipped my head to lap roughly at first one nipple and then the other nipple. They grew taut beneath my needy tongue, and I groaned against her.
“We’re almost home,” I told her. She seemed lost with her head back, enjoying my hands on her. I don’t think she cared we might still be doing this in the drive outside the carriage house.
And neither did I.
I flipped her tiny body around so that she was seated on my lap. My cock strained against my trousers from where she’d just been straddling me. So, I nestled it against her soft rump. She purred and shimmied her hips against me.
I ran my fingers down her biceps on both sides of her and she quaked against me, her little body vibrating against my chest and against my cock. I jolted, and she yelped and rocked forward.
I ran one splayed hand down her spine, admiring the stars and moons tattooed there, and then hooking my fingers into her half-discarded costume. She rose her ass enough to allow me to pull it the rest of the way down over her hips. I used both hands to push it all the way down her legs and off over her feet, where it dropped with a wet plop to the carriage floor.
We pulled into the grounds of Blackmoth House. The carriage slowed as I reached around her and massaged her breasts while laying gentle kisses along her spine.
After a winding path down the driveway, the carriage slid to a stop outside the carriage house.
One glance inside would reveal this marvelous goddess of a woman, naked and on my nap.
The driver would get the point. And he did. I heard his footfalls hurrying away and leaving us alone in the dark carriage.
I traced my hands down her tight belly, and she leaned her head back on my shoulder, letting out a long, quiet sigh. Her body was still shaking but felt looser; more relaxed now.
Lightly, ever so lightly, my fingers ventured down to her muscular thighs, pushed in between and spread them open. She planted her feet on either side of my lap and my cock jumped against her soft ass. I kneaded the flesh of her inner thighs until I found the heat of her center and cupped it with one hand.
“Oh, ,” she moaned. She moved her hips very slightly. Maybe to create friction for herself against my hand. Or maybe to tease my hard cock.
I slipped a finger inside her. She panted faster, and I was able to feel every dark crevice of her, every hot fold of her with only one finger. It was enough to nearly make me lose my mind.
So, I slipped in another finger. Then I began to move them in and out of her.
She spread her legs wider and rolled her head fluidly. I found her clit and thumbed it soft but fast. Faster then very fast while also quickening the pace of my moving fingers. She rocked her hips a little faster too and also flexed her feet up and down on her toes like she was dancing some sort of ballet on my cock.
“My God,” I snarled.
I could hardly bear to pull one hand away from her little body, but I did so then, to fumble with my trousers and release my cock into the cool night air. There was just enough glimmer of moonlight to show me hard and long against her tattooed skin. “Do you want me, Wilhelmina?” I whispered.
She moaned and rubbed the soft, warm skin of her ass against my engorged dick. It wasn’t a yes. And I knew that even a yes right now in this moment was probably really a no. But she would have to forgive me because I had to have her.
I ran my hand up her spine and pushed her forward, bending her easily to reveal the dark center of her open to me. My cock slid into the tight heat of her, and she cried out. I was trying to refrain… To be gentle…
But then she drove herself onto me. She took me all the way into her. My tip reaching up to the front of her. I roared as she glided herself up and down on me. I bucked my hips into her, feeling her need building. Feeling a frenzy in her that called out to a fever in me. We rocked in perfect rhythm; me tracing her tattoos and whispering filthy words; her spread wide open and giving the performance of a lifetime.
It was no time at all until we both came undone together, tumbling noisily over the edge of ecstasy.