One of the most popular attractions in Paris during the 19th century was the City Morgue. Denuded corpses were laid out in a sort of gallery, where spectators could file past in the hopes the unidentified dead might be recognized. Many Parisians caught their first glimpses of the genitalia of the opposite sex through these morbid windows- the bloated breasts or swollen cocks of the dead caused stares and lascivious comments. A particularly voluptuous corpse might increase the number of visitors. One winter afternoon, a wealthy socialite was recognized among the carcasses of suicides, murder victims and the drowned. The difference between the body of Madame de Grangeais and the others was not the pallid, marmoreal hue of death, but the complete and inexplicable absence of blood in her body. Some suspected she was the victim of an insidious plague sweeping across Europe, referred to as vampirism.
Maura was an avid horsewoman who often took long, solitary rides in the Bois de Boulogne. Sauntering along on Eclair, her favorite bay mare, she heard a muffled scream, followed by a hollow thump on the spongy ground. Another rider, she had already realized, was in the region- she had glimpsed him through the trees and heard the thumping of hooves and the clinking of the accoutrements. "Mon Dieu! Someone has taken a fall!" She put her horse to spurs and crossed a small creek to the other path, where the sound had originated. The fallen rider's horse was nonchalantly drinking from a spring as its master lay unconscious on the side of the path.
Halting Eclair several steps away, Maura elegantly dismounted. Her riding suit embraced every curve, bulge and muscle of her athletic figure. Though masculine in cut, her sex was unambiguous in this tight-fitting habit. The very feminine curves of her thighs swelled into the two rotund masses of her buttocks. The equally protuberant mounds of her breasts, though encased in a rigid corset, caused her tightly buttoned bodice to swell out in a graceful arch that was topped by her flowing veils. With her crop tucked under her arm, she walked towards this anonymous victim. A charge of erotic electricity coursed through her as she approached... the rider was clearly a woman, and she was endowed with a magnificent, meaty rump. This very round and voluptuous ass was encased in a pair of skintight trousers and was protruding in the air at an obscenely high angle.
With an "umpphh" Maura pushed the woman on her side so she could unfasten the buttons from her throat. She slapped her face lightly and called for her to respond. With the constricting collar loosened from her pulsating throat, some color returned to her pale skin. Her eyes opened slightly. "Are you injured severely?" Maura asked. The fallen Amazon did not respond. A trickle of deep red blood ran from the corner of her enticing mouth. Her luminous green eyes rolled back in the two slits of her half-closed lids. A lecherous thrill overcame Maura as she felt this beautiful body palpitating in her arms. She ran her hands down the buttons of the bodice, feeling for the heartbeat through the layers of wool, silk and lace, penetrated by the moist warmth of her breast. This fallen woman's creamy white flesh was coated with a film of perspiration, giving her skin an delicious iridescence. Maura had removed her chamois gloves to administer aid, but now she ran her fingertips around the horsewoman's tempting features.
With Maura's fingertip running lightly along those thick, pouting lips, a sudden jerking spasm seized the fallen woman's body, causing her spine to arch violently and a burping "ugkkhh" to escape her parting lips. Her eyes suddenly flashed open in a horrified stare, and her fingers grasped Maura's arms like claws. With a crackling in her throat, her head jerked spasmodically. Maura savored the small, perfectly formed teeth, the pink tongue and the contrast these afforded to the deep red lips. The spasms could have been a potent orgasm, but the real cause was revealed when Maura glimpsed, through the corner of her eye, a small viper slithering into the dead leaves near the woman's arm. Her arm had fallen back into its original position after the heaving spasm. Maura dropped this spasmodic body in the dirt and stood back in shock. A movement in the dead leaves assured her that the viper was trailing away.
"Save... me..." the woman gasped in her hoarse, breathless voice. Maura saw two pinpricks of blood on her wrist. The lethal venom was already coursing through her veins. Maura took her delicate wrist and clasped her lips to the punctures. She tasted the saltiness of perspiration and the sting of her faint perfume, applied to her pulse points with the intention, no doubt, of seducing someone other than a voracious Lesbian on a dark bridal path. The only cure for a venomous snakebite was to suck the poison from the punctures and spit it out. A vague fear struck Maura, that the poison might seep into her own bloodstream and leave two voluptuous charognes in this forest, only to be discovered by wolves, woodcutters or worms. The French often call prostitutes "charogne," a word that denotes a female corpse. The insects would have a lecherous feast on these two putrescent whores.
The eyes of this writhing Amazon were fixed on Maura's, though not a word was spoken. She returned her lips to the two tiny punctures, indicated by drops of bright red blood, and sucked. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. Maura tasted the mixture of sweat and gritty dust that coated her skin in a filmy, diaphanous oil. At intervals, Maura stopped her sucking to spit out the foamy saliva and blood. Maura's throat was dry and this exercise was increasing her thirst. Less and less blood was seeping from the punctures, and Maura seemed to be sucking on skin alone. The prostrate Amazon was stiffening, with a foam bubbling from her mouth the color of Burgundy wine. Her arms were bent at the elbows, with her hands at the level of her shoulders, as if trying to stop some imaginary demon above her. She was staring into nothingness with startled, fixed pupils.
