A Tarnished Swan’s tale

Posted: Sunday, 27 December, 2015 by deacongray in Uncategorized

 A donor’s tale of Abuse, Rape Betrayal and Renewal.

swan
by JB R
(c) GraveyardPress 2015 Dec 14

Growing up I wasn’t exactly your everyday kid. I was into things like Role Playing games, Japanese animation ( before it became popular) and comic books. I liked to search libraries for old books on witches, and magic, and I could spend hours on my own at Powell’s book store in Portland Oregon, just drinking watered down coffee ( I couldn’t handle the full strength stuff) and enjoying all that was weird about a place that had acres of book shelves and people just as odd as I was.  It didn’t change the fact that I was lonely.

 

I guess it was at the comic book store that I first met Dillon. He was there fairly often and to be honest I always took his friendliness as nothing more than the comradery of a fellow fan of the X-Men. I was around fifteen, he was closer to twenty eight, and he spent most of his time at the store talking to older people, playing role playing games, or sneaking out back to smoke pot. Sure he was cute, but he was also an older man, and old men didn’t really ping my radar. Still he and the rest of the regulars soon became friends in our own geeky, odd sort of way.

So after a few months of hanging out, my new friend Dillon and I became a little more than simple friends. We might make out after smoking a little weed at the end of game night, and it all seemed fairly harmless.  Hell, even my mom didn’t really mind.

She knew how old he was, but he was always a gentlemen, and we hadn’t exactly ‘Done it’ or anything.  I suppose she was just glad to see that I wasn’t hanging out in my room reading books and wishing my Mr. Darcy would magically appear. Dillion assured my mom that he wanted to be certain I was ready, and that he wasn’t in any kind of a rush. To me it didn’t seem like he was in a hurry enough. I was nearly seventeen by the time we had intercourse, though I had done other things with him up until then.

We would see each other on the weekends, mostly at the comic book store, and he would treat me like his queen, and called me his sweet little swan. I felt incredible, not only part of the cool crowd, but one of its leaders. Dillion would keep the group organized and I would do my best to administrate his plans.

“Vampire: The Masquerade, at the shop, dress the part!” I would send out to all the group members, and they would show up just as directed. It might seem a silly thing to find empowering, but for a girl who had never had any power, popularity or friends, this was like a dream come true. They were always glad to see me on the weekend, and their acceptance of me, made it easy to ignore some of the other things going on around me.

Meth. I’m not sure when it crept into our group, or if I was merely too stupid to notice. I tried it once; it was like having someone toss a shivering spell on me, with the addition of making me really sleepy. After that Dillion said, it was pointless for me to do it, he said I must be ADHD or something. So I smoked a little weed, and occasionally got into the wine, if someone brought some over.

Dillion didn’t like me drinking wine, it said it was too big of a risk, and that it made me act stupid. So I only snuck a little once in a while. He looked after me, regardless of my snarky comments about him acting like my father. All in all it was just like any family really, even if it was starting to get a little ordinary.

I think Dillion caught my discontent, because he proposed that we all get together for a road trip to one of the famous “Endless Nights Vampire Ball” gatherings, in New Orleans. I was so excited! Dillion said he would pay my way, and even help me find just the right clothing for the event. He said he would pick me up before my mom woke up, (So she couldn’t say no) and we would go on this amazing adventure.

The trip would take a few days, so I would have time to call my mom and let her know what the deal was, but once we got started there was no real way for her to stop me. The plan seemed so perfect, a childhood adventure! Something to tell my own kids about and show them I wasn’t just a library mouse, or comic book store looser.

“I think it’s time I told you something about our group.” Dillion said to me after we had been on the road for about an hour. “I didn’t want to freak you out before, so I told the others not to mention it, but I think it’s time you know.”

 

He had been a little quiet for the first twenty minutes, so I had left him alone, thinking that he was just working out the trip details, but I could see that other things had been on his mind. “My little Swan, I’m not sure how to tell you this. Our group, doesn’t just play vampire role playing games. We are a Vampire House. We are all vampires, Sanguinarians and Tantric vampires.”

I didn’t know what to say, to be frank about it. He went on for hours about the various courts, clans and covens. He talked about how they were organized and how ‘Black Swans’ were both hostess, counselor, and companion for the Houses. He said I was his Black Swan.

We had picked up some of the others, and they helped to educate me about the community rapidly, they said I ‘Needed to Know” now that we were headed for the Vampire Capital City. At first I thought they were messing with me, than I felt a little angry at being made fun of. Sure, try to convince the stupid comic book mouse into believing that real vampires existed. To tell you the truth I nearly cried, I couldn’t figure out why they were doing all of that to me.

It was one of the others that broke out his lap top and started pulling up all the pages.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Hundreds of pages, facebook groups, WordPress and Yahoo groups all about real human vampires went back for decades! My friend’s group wasn’t just in there too, they were pretty well known, and active since way before they met me. They weren’t kidding about the vampire stuff.

 

I can’t tell you what a shock it was, I read and read, down loading page after page when we got to different stops that had wifi. We drove for hours, stopping to eat, smoke a little weed, and that back on the road, but I hardly noticed. I was so caught up in all of it that I felt like I was on a roller coaster.

We were in Colorado before we stopped for the night at a cheap hotel. The road had worn me down, but the others were still going strong. They had their meth, and the whole thing was a party. Still I wanted to sleep, but I was excited when Dillion asked me to be his donor, not just his donor, but a donor to them all.

I’m not sure what got into me. Maybe it was the alcohol, Dillion was pretty liberal with it that night, or maybe it was the mood, but I let Dillion drink my blood. I can’t explain it, but it was both frightening and sexually appealing. I wanted him to own me in every way, and let him take me in ways that always seemed so wicked before.

I noticed that all the others were involved with each other in some fashion or another and the mood was so alive and sexual. Dillion said vampire families were close, and that playing and tormenting each other was just part of bonding. He said I didn’t have to bond with the others, and I was both relieved and a little put off. I wanted to be completely part of them, to be their queen again; something that I felt had slipped away with all this new information.

I know we argued about it, I know I was so drunk I couldn’t really think. I know that it felt good to be with so many people and I had been fairly certain that sometime in the night I had traded sexual favors with most of them. It was more than a party it was the life, the blood, the bonding!

The car was mostly silent when I woke up. Dillion had put me in the car, and we had all taken off early, in a hurry to get to Endless Nights. He said that I imagined the sex, that sure he and I had been involved and it has been passionate, but that the others had left me alone for the most part.

I suppose I felt ok about that, but for some reason I felt kind of weird about it. I was positive I had been with each of the males, and pretty sure the female involved had too, but she seemed ok with everything, and none of the guys commented on anything.

It was afternoon before I started feeling better, and nearly evening when the mood of comradery and excitement started to return. The girl that was with us had made contact with friends in New Orleans, and it looked like we would have a place to stay, and a pre-event party would be in full swing when we got there. It was looking to be a pretty amazing event.

When we arrived the party was in full swing, and I was already a few hits into a good buzz. Dillion hadn’t let me drink until we were about an hour out, so by the time we got there I was fairly well lubricated.  Our family was being playful and fun again, and it seemed like everything that had happened the night before was being washed away by the fun to be had.

Dillion took me around to meet all the Elders of the local community. They were mostly pretty nice, but I felt seriously under dressed. Dillion seemed to notice how I felt because he and the girl who traveled with us, introduced me to a beautiful vampire lady, and she was more than eager to dress me up. “A girl has to look the part! Besides you’re tits are going to look amazing in my blue and black corset!”

I would love to tell you all about my trip. I am excited to remember the graveyards, the people, the outfits and paraphilia. Did you know there are people who make vampire fangs?

 

Still everything comes back in bits and pieces. I know that I drank, smoked weed, but I didn’t realize until later that I was also on Ecstasy. I can’t explain the whirl wind, I can’t explain how I ended up in so many vampire blood orgies.  I know my body was cut for blood, I know I woke up unsure if I had been screwing Dillion, or if the image in my head was right and it was someone else.

I know by the end of the event, ( I missed the main ball) I was used up and feeling a little dead on the inside.  I asked Dillion if I could go back to the place we had been staying, but he didn’t want to leave. So he took me to our car and bundled me up. He said he would check on me, he said he wouldn’t be long.

I passed out. I don’t know what time it was, I only know that I was in the back of the car laying on my stomach, my legs crammed onto the floor board and my head shoved into the car seat. I felt some one on me, driving into my body, at first I thought it might be Dillion, but the weight of this guy was so much more than Dillion.

I started to try to push away, but caught a fist in the ribs. I both lost my breath and realized I was being rapped at about the same moment. I screamed, but my face was just pushed harder into the car seat. The guy stopped for a moment and I thought it was over, but then he started again with renewed vigor… and his weight felt different somehow. I struggled again and a second blow landed, hitting me in the head hard enough for me to lose consciousness.

When I woke up I was bundled up in the back seat of the car like nothing had happened. Dillion was there, he said he saw no signs of an issue, and thought maybe it was the drugs I had imagined it all. I pointed out the bruises and he seemed unsure of what to say, even asked if I might have knocked myself around while drunk.

I knew what happened, I wanted to call a cop, but Dillion said he didn’t think I knew what happened, and that cops would just get us all in trouble because I was underage. He talked me out of calling the police, but after I submitted he started acting weird. Mean, like I did something wrong.

The trip home wasn’t as much fun. The others still played and partied, but I just felt sad and used. No one seemed to want to stop the party, and some even whispered that I made the whole thing up for attention. “Look some people can’t handle being bonded to a group. Maybe you are just feeling regret and it transferred into some addled fantasy about being rapped.”

After I got home I didn’t talk to the group for a while. I stayed home until even my mother was worried about me. I’m not sure when I decided to push it away, to just accept it, but I did.

I started hanging back out, mostly only with Dillion on free time, and the others during game nights. They said we were still family, but there was a lot going on that I wasn’t involved in. They started getting in contact with other locals, there where even some fights over who had the right to go to what bar and what events were off limits to what people.  I was still too young to go, so I didn’t get to see a lot of it, but I heard about it when Dillion came looking for me.

For the most part I spent a lot of time by myself again. I started to get lonely again, but instead of reading or hanging out at the library, I went on line to the forums. Vampires, as it turns out, are fairly prolific on line. I met a lot of people, most I just interacted with in the forums, but a few I learned to really trust.

Regardless, I didn’t really talk about that night. I didn’t want to be seen as the drama queen, or get anyone in trouble from our group. I wanted to know people and build my own respect, but it seemed like every time I did Dillion would find something about them he didn’t approve of.

He really didn’t like me talking to the vampires in New Orleans. Something had happened down there, and he was pretty pissed off at them. He said that they were spreading lies, and that honorable vampire houses didn’t interact with them anymore.

I was starting to feel pretty sheltered, isolated and alone. I told Dillion how I was feeling and he said I just needed more time with the house to really feel like part of the group. He said it would be easier once I got old enough to go the clubs, but promised to start doing after parties so I could be involved. I have to admit, despite everything I was excited to have the chance.

I have to admit I fell right into it. The parties were great, so much fun! I dressed up, spent all my money on clothing and make up. We have great bonding parties and while I stayed pretty much with Dillion, there were times when others got special time with me.

The first time I was asked to be a Birthday Day Gift, for one of the house, it was based on the idea that we had played before on the trip. I wasn’t sure I liked the idea, but with enough booze and drugs I managed to get in the spirit. After that it seemed all the House members and some of the House Friends wanted me as their present as well.

I normally said No, but there were times that even in saying No, I ended up relenting after enough booze. At some point I just came to know that I was there for the whole house, for their pleasure and mine. I didn’t like it, but they were my friends and I wanted them to want me around. I know how stupid that sounds.

Once again I started isolating. I felt like a whore, and started really letting myself go. I cried a lot, but Dillion just said I was being a silly girl. He told me that I needed the House, that no one else would want me now. He said he still loved me, but that I let my standards slip. That I encouraged the other house members, and how he felt like he was just getting what was left.

We broke up at some point. He found a girl a little older, a little more money and knowledge about the community. She said she liked me, but she also talked to me like I was a child. I really hated that, but there wasn’t much I could do. The rest of the house loved her.

I decided to take a vow of celibacy for six months, and try to find my own way. I left the house and talked to a lot of people in the community. They told me they thought I was funny and witty, they didn’t ask for pictures, and their flirting was friendly, not that dark feeling I had with the others. It was just fun.

On line a man who was really charming became my close friend. He showed me a lot, took care of me when I was down, and listened to me without judging me. He said he would help take care of Dillion if I wanted him too, not in a violent way, just have him removed from community gatherings, but I didn’t want that. I still loved Dillion.

It was months later that Dillion came back. He was thin and tired looking. He said he had missed me and couldn’t eat or drink, that the new girl had been a huge mistake,  that she had put a spell on him, and he was only now able to break it. He said he needed my support, and begged me to come back.

He promised to take me to the Portland Vampire Masquerade ball, and that it would be an amazing time to renew our bonds. He said everything I wanted to hear.

We dated again for a few weeks, and I had spent nearly all of my saved up money for College to prepare for the ball. We bought clothing and booze, drugs and a nice hotel room. It was going to be epic, and I couldn’t wait to go.

It was on that big night, the night I thought he might propose or something, that we went to the hotel and partied like there was no tomorrow. We all gathered and howled and showed up for the ball in our grandeur and fangs, ready to represent our growing house.

We met all kinds of amazing people. People from the great houses of New York were present, and even some of the people I knew on line. We danced as acrobats flipped in the sky, and had blood red wine in goblets ( plastic cups) until the whole thing just magically came together in a scene that was more dream than reality.

“It’s like the Goblin Kings Court!” I heard someone saying, and to me that was the perfect summation of the evening.

I suppose all good things have to come to an end though, and for us the end came as we headed back to the hotel, and my head swam with booze and pot. I laid down to rest and drifted, not really knowing what came next, but perfectly happy to go to bed and rest.

Dillion was texting someone, and everyone was anxious about some deal or another. I guessed they wanted more meth or pot, so I ignored it. I could have got back up and went back to the party, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to sleep and just enjoy the after glow of the evening, so I faked being passed out.

Apparently it worked. At around three am I lay listening to the others talking and something one of them said caught my attention. “ I don’t think we should do it again. I felt really shitty about it the last time.”

Dillion responded “She’s buy whatever we tell me. She is so drunk she won’t noticed. Heck she had a few before and never even woke up. Hell dude, I’ll cozy up to her, get her primed and if she seems under, than the deal is on. I let those guys have a piece, we’ll get our shit and no one is the wiser.”

I didn’t scream, or yell, or anything like that. I merely got up, and walked quietly to the patio door, and went home. It was all pretty clear once I heard them. I hadn’t imagined anything in New Orleans, I had been sold. Raped for profit and drugs and the house I thought I belonged too, had all known and done nothing about it.

Now I live at the edges of the community. I am still involved, but no so involved or trusting as I once was. Dillion is in jail, it seems he was registered sex offender his specialty was young girls like myself. After talking to my mother, she called the cops and they took him away on the third strike rap. He still sends me letters telling me he loves me, or calling me a whore who ruined his life.  My mother told the prison that his letters aren’t welcome, so they have put us on the list, though, when he moves to a new facility, it takes a while for them to get the clue.

Once word got out, he was ruined in the community, though as I later came to understand he was never really anyone important in the community to start with. Just some guy who talked a big game, but never backed it up. His house wasn’t even recognized in most circles and his name was just as obscure.

One lady I spoke to at the Portland Ball, said she remembered me, because Dillion had introduced me to her, but she hadn’t a clue who Dillion was. “He was a total stranger introducing me to a total stranger. It was so odd.”

So what now? Well I am again dealing with a House as an outsider and friend, though this one is known in the community, though they do not all know my back story. They are friendly and never ask to “Bond” though men will be men. I find most of the houses are pretty safe, but I will always know that some aren’t and I doubt I will ever be able to trust friends like I did before.

I don’t know if the drugs addling my mind made the rape easier, or if it makes it harder, as I don’t know who all was involved or if they would ever be brought to justice. But still, I am glad I can’t see their faces in my nightmares.

Counseling helps, but nothing will let me take away the pain. Nothing changes my bad choices, or puts me in a different place in time where I was too stoned and drunk to know for sure if I was being sold for drugs. Nothing will change that betrayal of knowing my first love thought of me as nothing but a young piece to use as he saw fit.

These day’s things have changed for me though. I am married, I have a kid of my own (new husband’s kid, not Dillion’s) and I have a good job, where people know me as a nice young lady, and friend. I suppose some would say I turned it all around, though I will never totally get the vampire community out of my spirit. Despite all that happened, the people I met there have been truer as friends then many close to me. Despite everything all the negative, the horrible crap, the lies and shit I went through, this community remains dear to me, and my family. It isn’t always easy, and I still have a lot of counseling to do, but perhaps with each step and each year, it will get easier.

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