'Vienna" - An original work ~ 12/18/15



Chapter one:


The prior October my 50th birthday had come and gone with little to no fanfare.  Honestly I was alone in many regards of my life already and my career now afforded me the ability to leave the material world behind.  I had been a mergers and acquisitions consultant for several large European banks and felt it time to look outside of the corporate world and find myself. After years of traveling in Europe and Asia I decided to make one final business trip before my unannounced early retirement.  In essence I was walking away.


I didn't know what that meant and it didn't really matter. I had time and I had money.  What I lacked was the right woman to join me on a journey to fill our souls and hearts with love. 


I had been in Vienna for a merger with Deutsch Bank and a Russian oil consortium finalizing some minute details that I didn't technically need to oversee, but I volunteered because of my love of Vienna and the opera house.


After a few days my business had concluded. I booked a premier Eurorail pass from Vienna to Prague then to Munich for my final departure of the corporate world.  Even by international standards I was far to young to walk away from a very lucrative future.  But I was ready.


My wife of 13 years had succumbed to cancer a few years back and it was time to begin looking anew for a lover and companion for the third act of my the play that is my life.  I was looking for a partner in crime, an honest and sensual creature of the earth and stars and one that could appreciate and relate to some of the darker times I had had in my life.  A kitten that could both purr and hiss as it pleased her mood and had a sense of humor about life and it's ironies.


My dream was to find a passion princess, a hypnotic voodoo queen and a metal goddess that could complete where I was going.  It was a mission and it was soon to be my primary focus. Little did I know what was in store for me that fateful day in December.


My meetings came to an end, papers were negotiated, translated and signed and off I went into the horizon.  My work in Vienna being done.


I arrived at the train station promptly and hour before departure as the concierge had suggested.  My luggage had been portered ahead of time so all I had was my small valise with my laptop, an old Anne Rice Vampire novel and of course some music to calm me down.  I had chosen Rammstein, Enigma and an opera by Gorecki for this particular trip as I enjoyed the dichotomy of the two genres of music and this particular opera was both haunting and beautiful.


Because of my first class booking and reputation I boarded early and was shown to my rather spacious stateroom by the station director. Technically it was two rooms I had booked, a sitting and eating area and a sleeping car with a shower, vanity and sink.  Both were luxurious and came with all of the amenities that only money or prestige could buy.  All of this was of course expensed to one of my employers as part of my normal fee and retainer agreement.


Whenever I boarded in this way I would mutter under my breath "Damn it feels good to be a gangsta".  Very few people understood the reference but it brought a smile to my face.


I enjoyed this particular train because of the eye for class and style in every detail. The teak enhanced siding to the Italian brushed leather couch, the Viennese crystal, the velvet towels and porcelain tea sets all prepared by my personal butler for my journey into the unknown.  The Monet lithos on the wall along with silk curtains interwoven with gold leaf added to the ambience that was appreciated on so many different visceral levels. 


After being shown my rooms I began to settle in and arrange the few things I had with me.  The laptop would be plugged in and on, but out of sight.  Business still mattered for another few days and walking away or not, I never left a job unfinished. The Vampire Lestat novel would be left on the side table next to the window to remind me that I could always escape into a vicarious life of my favorite undead anti hero. 


This was going to be a routine trip it felt like, but I knew my world was due for some changes, when that would be I did not know.  I would let the gods decide my fate as they often did. Not even the Lanisters could ruin this.


This train also had several coach cars for the students and people not afforded the ability to have someone else pay for their trip.  All of these areas were very nice, just not as spacious or catering to affluence as I was going to experience.


I have many fond memories of riding in those coach cars when I was new to the continent.  The beautiful girls excited to see Paris for the first time and the art students on their way to Rome.  It was all such an interesting and sensory overloaded blur back then.  The wine, the women, the songs, the concerts the art galleries and museums, all of which smelled and tasted of the energy and exuberance of youth.


One night of love and lust followed by a short nap traveling between pristine lakes and mountains topped with snows that never melted.  Then waking up to hot black coffee and whatever beautiful creature of the night you had met the prior evening by your side.  Laughing at how poorly you spoke the local dialect and attempting to find a cafe to eat was a thing of beauty and wonder for a young man in his 20's.


I was however far too old now for those types of things I kept telling myself.  I was required to be respectable. To have a career. To be a responsible member of society.  All of which I found to be boring on every level at this stage in my existence.


I had met my wife on one of those adventures long ago and perhaps was hoping something like that would occur again. I will always love her, but it was time to move on. That sun had set with tears of both joy and sorrow, but it had set.


A bottle of red wine was opened for me as I settled in for day long journey with an enhanced sound system at my disposal that would allow me to increase the volume when it pleased me and the ability to close off my stateroom so I would be undisturbed.


I had determined long ago that frequencies between 125hz and 250hz if properly amplified created a certain level of arousal within my body.  I never questioned this or actually understood it.  I just made sure my equalizer and sound system could accommodate these primal needs whenever I had control of my environment.  If the lust for a lover to challenge me could not be met, I would have my lust for sound to keep me company as metal rails brought the train out of the city.


The last of the coach passengers had boarded and we were leaving the station.  I put on Enigma to start the day and as to not create too much havoc before lunch was served in the forward compartments.


Long ago I was reminded that Rammstein played at 115db could be more than the average first class passenger would tolerate from me.  That is until we were at least 50km outside of the station when it was too late for the complaints to be acted on. Then of course I always started my playlist with "Du Hast". It just seemed appropriate.


Approximately 45 minutes after departing the station when we were out of the city and beginning our trek through the winter mountain passes I decided to change from my grey Armani suit into something more casual.  For this trip that translated into jeans and my old Megadeth concert shirt from the Peace Sells tour.  Ancient, I know, but it had always brought me good luck.  That and it either made me look much younger or like a complete idiot.  Either of which was fine.  My fascination with listening to Dave Mustaine growl out song after song had maintained for many years and the shirt honored his struggles as well as mine from that era.


Chapter two:


As I was finishing up in my sleeping car I heard what could best be described as an audible gasp, an angry German man barking orders and half hearted shriek coming from my other stateroom.  Since I had ensured that no one else would be booked in this section of the train, I was mildly concerned as to what was going on.  There was very little foot traffic through this section of the train so any noise I did not create would be considered unusual. This mystery would soon be solved, but not until I washed up.  I had to be presentable I thought.


I stepped into the hallway and began towards the sitting room when I saw the conductor attempting to speak English with what could best be described as the most stunning younger woman I have ever seen in my life.  He was failing badly at his English and she was none to happy to be told she could not stay in my stateroom by the very tall German conductor unable to conjugate his verbs in English.  It translated to loosely, "get the hell out of here now or I will have you thrown off the train".


As I gazed at this vision of a Norse goddess that had long black hair with a very distinguished silver streak in the front covering her face ever so slightly and with an allure that made my heart skip a beat.  Was this Freya or Loki's sister.  I did not know.


Her full lips screamed to the depths of my soul that they must be kissed.  The dark maroon color with a hint of lavender. The pouty and uplifting structure that could only be described as one of the wonders of the known universe that was rare to find by mortals.


Men would have fought and died in wars to taste the nectar of those lips and to feel them whisper promises in their ear before a night of unforgettable passions. I could sense she could hold her own in a mosh pit as well as a formal event with state dignitaries. How far did the rabbit hole of this mystery travel into the earth and beyond?


Her body, how do I describe her body. My limited grasp of words used by the poets, the scholars and philosophers going back millennia was quickly realized.  Utter perfection is all I could think. Complete and utter perfection.  A thousand years of searching would not yield such a visage of beauty.  Was this a dream, would I fade to grey, I did not know.


Her 34D breasts held tightly behind a black cotton shirt and a neck so divine I had thoughts that immediately drifted towards the Vampire Lestat and my desire to place my mouth and tongue onto her smooth flesh and kiss until I was out of unexplored skin that I had not touched on her body.  The tastes and smells I was imagining that would be experienced were beyond comprehension.  She exuded purity in a way I thought not possible. She also had an aura of an untamed wild that was provocative to say the least.


For a moment I faded out of reality and effortlessly drifted into fantasies of my fingers running through that silken hair and pulling her close to me to feel her body join with mine in a lovers embrace.  A dance with the unknown. A slow joining of two kindred spirits. Bodies intertwined until the fire of all physical urges had exhausted all fuel for the night.


Her jeans were worn, but stylish.  Ripped, but with a purpose.  Her make up was subtle yet mysterious.  Her eyes were highlighted with deep blues and blacks and obscured at the same time.  Her black leather boots reached slightly above her knees and showed off thighs that had obviously been through many hours of workouts to achieve a level of seduction that was having its desired effect on me. My personal trainers Shawn and Becky would be proud of this image of intensity as they created and crafted mere humans into idols often as a living back in Seattle.


Then her eyes met mine. I was stunned and unable to move.  I felt warmth and pleasure up my spine for what could only be described as the longest eternity to evaporate in less than a few moments.  I felt movement in parts of me that have not moved so easily in many years.  I could feel myself heating up and my heart beginning to race with anticipation and desires I had forgotten I had.


A statute of Aphrodite would have been embarrassed standing next to her.  Helen of Troy was a commoner by comparison.  The conductor must have been blind and suffered many years of head trauma to not see what I was seeing.


Her piercing look glanced at me and I was unable to move or speak. Those eyes called to me as a lover would. As an equal would. As if the morning could not start until those eyes opened and approved of the mists on the meadow. They asked me to join with them.  A thing I yearned for, badly.


Wherever I was in this world would soon change.  She of the train would be known by me. In what capacity I did not know, but our paths would meet as if ordained by the gods themselves. As would our lips if I had any say in the matter I convinced myself.


I was rudely woken from this fantasy that was real in my heart and soul by the ever angry conductor.  I was brought back into a reality that I was going to find a way to work this vision of a goddess incarnate into my arms.  There was no price in my heart, mind and soul I would not pay to hold her close to me.  To feel her touch. To grasp her radiance.  But first things first, I had to get Sargent Shultz off her case; and her into my stateroom.


In order to complete my objective and fulfill these needs I had to take action.  I shifted out of my fantasy into my professional mode of being in control.  After years of being manipulated, lied to, tricked, conned and then figuring out when I was being played, I knew what to do. I was a master at getting people to do what I needed done.  I would use all of my skills for that single goal standing less than a meter away from me.


I spoke fluent German, but it was rare I did this in public as to not draw attention to myself unless that was what I chose.


I said to the conductor in German "My good sir, please step back, this is my assistant, Ms. Romanov with an important missive for my immediate consideration."  I had to think of a name, and for the moment the Avengers movie and my long forgotten classes on Russian czars became useful.  My 12th grade social studies teacher, Mr. Jones would be proud I actually retained something he said.


The conductor both surprised that I spoke fluent German without an accent and that this vision of beauty was allegedly associated with me when I boarded the train alone.  He stopped for a moment and didn't know what to say.  Before he could respond or ask questions I decided to double down on the subterfuge. I said in a commanding and stern voice to my mystery lover to be  "Ms. Romanov, you are tardy, this will go on your permanent record.  I expect you have my files.  Please prepare the brief in my stateroom.  I will join you momentarily." I ushered her into my room and promptly closed the door behind her.


The now clueless conductor didn't know what to do and fortunately he didn't get the joke about her permanent record and being tardy.  I changed my tone to something very pleasant and complimentary and went back to my flawless German and said that she had lost her boarding ticket and I would wire the station master ahead to ensure it was waiting for us when we arrived.  I thanked him for his diligence and motioned he was allowed to continue with his duties, his services were no longer required.


Based on the cost of my ticket and being a known traveler on this line the conductor decided not to press his luck.  He suspected I was not being honest, but felt it best to not push the issue.  My bluff had worked.  But I knew it would. The conductor went about his business in an efficiency that only the Germans know.


Chapter three:


Now what to do?  I had this beautiful creature sent to me from the heavens, or back to me from Dante on his visits to one of the many circles of hell.  Sweet mother of gods I thought.  I got the conductor to buy my story, but what do I do now.  What demon or angel awaited me behind that door?


As Ted Nugent would say, "When in doubt I whip it out...".  Ok, well there would be no whipping anything out, but I wasn't going to look like a douche and stand in the hallway for the rest of the trip.  So I opened the door with an air of authority and was going to get all Torquemada on this Princess of unknown delights.  Because trust me, no one expects the Grand Inquisition.


I walked in and found her sitting on a comfortable chair with her feet up drinking some of my very expensive red wine imported from Napa valley by my corporate wine buyer.  I was glad it wasn't back years ago when I was drinking shitty Chardonnay and pissing off the bartender with my complaints.


She of the train was staring out the window and paying no attention to me as though I was invading her space and not the other way around.  I liked this queen of the damned already.  As David Coverdale might say, "Is this love that I'm feeling?". Or at least a great deal of lust and curiosity if nothing else.


I closed the door behind me with sufficient noise as to garner some attention and respect.  I got neither of those.  She moved ever so slightly, adjusting her feet and showed me her now empty wine glass and motioned for me to pour her more from the bar behind me. I doubt she knew how expensive this wine actually was, and honestly, I didn't care, I didn't pay for it.


For the second time today I was stunned, albeit pleasantly, but she had been able to do the unthinkable to me for again.  I thought as I looked at her, no one puts baby in the corner.


Her dark magic worked and I found myself getting an empty glass and the wine and pouring both of us what remained of the bottle.  Mr. DeLatour would be proud of his vintage going to such excellent usage with my mystery woman from a land far away.


I sat opposite of her on the couch and said nothing.  Two can play at this game.  Although, this was my stateroom and I did just bail her sweet ass out.  What did it matter, I wanted adventure and adventure is what I received.


As the train continued into the hills away from the city, the light of the day was reflecting off of a small lake a few kilometers away and made my breathtaking beauty of a stateroom guest glow in such ways I had only seen at the Golden Temple in India.  This was madness I thought, devine madness and it was perfect. I was in the moment.  Time had slowed for us.


Seconds or perhaps much longer passed before I could focus enough to hear the gentle breaths coming from that mouth surrounded by those lips I yearned to kiss.  She was relaxed.  As though she was supposed to be here with me.  How she fell into such an immediate state of bliss was beyond my simple grasp.  The wine was excellent, but it was not that good.


She softly said two words for my ears only; "Peace sells".  I laughed for a moment and responded "...but whose buying".  She giggled like a school girl and turned to me and said " least you aren't a poseur wearing that shirt, but you kind of look like an idiot.  It's really beat up and old".  Well I predicted the idiot part at least.


As she turned towards me with the light behind her I was now able to better see how her perfect breasts filled out that tight black shirt and how it was all natural behind that thin layer of cotton.  Victoria had no business dealings with her this fine day. It was all natural and for this I thanked the gods.  Her face was flawless. Tight high-hard cheekbones, ears like an elf and that hair that swished too and fro.  I was in Nirvana. I could smell her spirit.


Chapter four:


I was not certain where this would lead or how long I would have with my new found assistant Ms. Romanov. I didn't even know her real name.  I knew she couldn't speak German for shit and was very likely from Southern California.  A place as it turns out I knew very well from my youth.  I was guessing she was an Orange County girl based on the look and style of that area. I suspected she was no more than 28 but held herself like a much older soul with more experience than I would know for some time, if ever.


She removed her boots from the table and sat up properly.  She said her name was Kat and she was going to a music festival in Munich and simply didn't want to stay in coach.  She wanted to see who is actually stupid enough to pay so much for first class.  I laughed and said I was, but realistically, I got it for free from my employer.


She said she is a sound engineer and on occasion is asked to work large festivals because she knows the bands well and they ask for her by name because she is one of the few that actually knows how to mix them to their liking.  She said my high mid range was off in the stateroom and one of the cones is probably shorting out.  She had my attention all of a sudden and I was focused on every syllable that she enunciated with perfect diction.


Before I could respond with some witty retort she said she was going to go takes shower in the other room and told me that she wanted another bottle of wine opened before she came back.  With that she got up grabbed a small bag I had not noticed before and walked out of the room to take a shower.


I didn't know what to think other than I hope they stocked a second bottle of wine as they usually don't because it's rare now I finish the first one.


As I looked for the wine and realized I didn't know what she was going to change into.  It didn't seem like she had anything else to wear.  Now my thoughts were racing to a place I did not even contemplate earlier. What would she put on, or maybe she was going to leave and go back to coach, where was this going?  My mind was racing and I could feel myself become both aroused and nervous like a high school boy.


She of the train, or Kat had taken control and I had given it to her.  I was open for what lay ahead.


Chapter five:


{to be continued}