Day Eleven

Lockdown Vampires

Day Eleven

I've heard of The Countess, it's infamous, you know. Infamous for the blood orgies, for the inversion of the patriarchal order. It's a place where women have ultimate power over men, where everything is stripped away from the boys (including their clothes). And the Women, (Sophie told me I'm supposed to put a capital letter whenever I refer to a Lady, Woman or Girl from now on (I doubt I'll remember, but I'll try)), They love it. I mean, every Girl wants to be a Princess right? Well, they pretty much get this at The Countess, though it's a Princess with a difference. The Countess is exclusive. It’s like having a part of Monaco in London. Wealth, oppulence, hedonism all in one place, all with a dark twist of Dominant Female Bloodsuckers. I’m jumping ahead, because our journey to The Countess wasn’t as straight-forward as I thought it would be. I mean, it should have been great. I was told to get the Jag - an XE - from the garage and wait at the front of the house. Sophie came with us and the two Women slipped into the back, while I took prime position. It started well, I followed the Satnav along the winding roads, reached the main road and blasted past BMW’s, Audi's, one Porsche and even an Aston Martin. The car roared like a lioness and raced like a cheetah. As exhilarated as I felt, my two special guests ignored me and my driving skills in favour of shared kisses, tender touches and whispered jokes, some I was sure were at my expense.

I did my best not to stare, but I gotta tell you it was hard (though I wasn’t). What hot-bloodied guy doesn't like to watch two beautiful Women get intimate? Kyla and Sophie were both getting hot under the bra and hotter under the skirt. I couldn’t quite see what was going on, but Sophie had slipped back against her seat, Her legs parted (Her knee nudged the right side of my seat) while Kyla’s mouth was on the punks exposed breast, Her hand lost beneath Sophie’s skirt. I tell you, it was hot to see and frustrating as fuck, thanks to my predicament🔒 (Sophie said I should add a padlock emoji). Yeah, well my vampire Mistress and Her human plaything had a reason to be distracted. I was supposed to be focused. “Drive us to The Countess. Follow the Satnav,” Kyla had said. Clear and simple and precise. Did I manage it? No, of course not. It was meant to be straight-forward. But how the fuck could I focus on the bloody road? Sophie’s pre-orgasmic murmurs grew louder and louder as Kyla’s tender affections continued. I wanted to put the radio on, to drown out those beautiful cries. Instead, I opted to go faster, blasting past cars and lorries, weaving in and out of traffic (yeah I know that’s illegal, but I was desperate to get to London), all in a bid to get to The Countess and away from Sophie’s beautifully arousing song. And that’s when it all went wrong. Tits up. If I'd been slow and cautious, we'd have avoided the road block. But I wasn't and we didn't. It was too late to turn around.

I'm meant to be looking out for Kyla, but what did I do? Drive Her straight into a troop of Special Forces. And they weren't fucking around, were they. Tough looking blokes, geared up for World War Number Three. Dressed in black, SAS fatigues, faces lost behind faceless gas masks, with mean looking guns that they didn’t hesitate to point at the approaching vehicles. These weren't your standard shoot-the-Taliban-shit guns either, these guns had spikes and lights. Not bayonets, but spikes. Long, medieval, Vlad-the-Impaler type spikes. I should have turned around. Wheel spun the fuck out of there. Burnt rubber, gone Fast and Furious. Driving the wrong way down the motorway, anything to get the hell out of it. But I didn't, did I? What did I do instead? I joined the fucking queue. Can you believe that? I slowed down and stopped like an obedient little citizen. Let's all wear face masks to protect us from the contagion. Let's keep our social distance from one another. Let's queue slowly for our death. While the Sister's take over the world. Why the hell did Kyla choose me? Talking about fast and furious... as soon as Kyla realised what I'd done, She fast turned fucking furious. I did my best to protest ignorance. "You were busy. I didn't want to interupt you. I thought we might get through. (Did I, fuck. I was scared. Scared of Her fast turning fucking furious, aroused and damn frustrated by Sophie’s annoyingly hot gasps. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do," I protested. I knew Kyla saw my lame arse excuse for what it was: a lame arse excuse. I glanced towards the crash barriers, wondering if I could smash through them. “You two were busy getting all hot and horny with each other.” "Don't you dare talk to me like that," Kyla snarled. Her teeth loomed menacingly from the top of Her mouth. “You’re meant to be concentrating. Idiot." “I was," I complained. It was partly true, I was concentrating, only it was on the two Women making out, not on the road. A familiar coldness clamped onto the base of my spine. I got the feeling that it was going to make a nest there for the foreseeable future. "Don't do anything," Kyla said, grabbing Her phone and blasting a text message.

"I'll get us out of it," I said, having no idea how I could manage such a feat. Ahead of us, the soldiers hauled a driver and his two passengers from their car. They were directed, at spiked gunpoint, to line up against a black mobile unit. Legs spread, arms raised, palms pressed to its side. The search was thorough. The two men had their trousers and underwear dropped, exposing their unlocked crown jewels. One of them looked like his was the size of a mace. The Lady waited for a Female officer who said something in Her radio as She slowly approached. "They're looking for servers and Keyholders," Kyla commented. The Female guard didn't take long to check the Woman, forcing Her mouth open and thrusting an invasive beams inwards. "And fangs," Sophie observed. She adjusted her dress, pulling the top forward over Her breasts. I tried to concentrate on the soldiers. "Yes," Kyla said. "They must have some way of identifying the changes." "I'll turn around," I suggested as the car ahead of us eased forward. We were fourth in line now. "No," Kyla said. "It’s too late. If we go, the tyres'll be shot out." "Maybe they'll use one of those electric guns on us," Sophie suggested. Great I thought, electric shock treatment, followed by trousers down, locked dick out for all to see. Would that be followed by a double-tap to the back of the head? "Keep going," Kyla said. She sounded calm, almost chilled, as though we were on our way to meet old friends. I shook my head. My hands were sweaty against the leather steering wheel. "I can still turn, I suggested again. “I'll be quck." "They'll kill us," Sophie said. Kyla leaned forward and stared at the soldiers. "Keep. Going." She sounded certain. No fear, no concern, just sure that we would be alright.

I was nervous. Gunmen ahead, lethal vampire behind. My foot slipped on the accelerator. The car jolted forward. I hit the brake rather than the vehicle in front. I was sure a red dot was going to line up on my forehead. Open my third eye with a sniper shot from a high-powered carbine. My left hand squeezed the gear stick tightly, greasing it with sweat. A couple of soldiers glanced in our direction. Their gaze travelled further down the line. No sudden illumination blasted me into the Afterlife. "Idiot!" Kyla hissed. "My foot slipped. I'm sorry," I protested. "Just wait here," Kyla said, reading a message that popped up on her phone. She didn't elucidate.

Shouts and screams came from the other side of the blockade. Screams followed by a volley of shots. No, not a volley, a cacophany. Non-stop like World War Part Fucking Three had kicked off. I saw tracers disappear ahead of us. The three civilians that had been forced from their car, dropped to the ground. The men yanked their underwear and trousers back up over bent knees. The woman hugged the side of the vehicle, her hands on her ears. Standing about them, the soldiers raised weapons to shoulders, set sights to eyes, aimed and pulled triggers. The shots cracked sharply and repetitively. No screams indicated contact. I saw the Sisters approach. They were like a flash seen briefly between two cuts in a film. There for a second then gone. The soldiers saw them too because they fired into the empty space the vampires left behind. The Sisters reappeared beside them: Four Women that ripped rifles from straps, breaking hands and arms before tearing apart their protective suits. Despite their training, the soldiers had no chance. Speed and agility trumped strength and combat training. Screams replaced gunfire. Dead bodies replaced live, tough alpha males. The young Female agent disappeared with the Sisters, along with the Female suspect.

"Come on," Kyla said, Her face illumined by the light of Her phone. "Drive. Take your time. We're safe." "Are you sure?" I asked. Despite the dead gunmen, I was certain my spiritual illumination was going to enter through a series of holes in my torso. Probably lungs, kidneys and abdomen. "I told you to drive," Kyla said. Her pleasant voice sounded harsh and impatient. Resigned to my fate, I eased the car forward. This time my acceleration was controlled and cautious. I passed the first car. The driver, a lone, elderly Woman, stared blankly ahead as though She were oblivious to the cacophony and chaos erupting all around. I didn't look at the people in the next car, but instead accelerated past, breaching the length of the final, empty vehicle and slipping through an upraised barrier. "Jesus, that was close!" I said once we were free. I felt triumphant and elated. My unspoken fear of what awaited me at The Countess momentarily set to a backburner. "Yes it was, wasn't it," Kyla agreed, busy texting. "And if you let that happen again, I’ll cut your balls off and sell you as a blood slave, you twat. Now, take us to The Countess. You’d better make up for this fuck up." I drove on silently. That coiled nervousness slithered through me again, offering agitation and concern as we drew closer to the capital. Behind me, Kyla and Sophie continued where they left off. I guess the intense slaughter and near-death-experience fuelled their passion for life and each other. I could still see them but something about my voyeurism made me feel bad. I wasn't there to watch them get each other off, no matter how much I wanted to, besides I wanted to join in, but there was no way that was going to happen (a tiny voice at the back of my mind added, ‘yet’). I was there to drive them, safely, silently, to The Countess.

As we neared London I shot a few silent prayers that I would return us all safely to the mansion, Kyla in a good mood with her faith in me restored, Sophie still on my side and my minor (okay, major) fuck up forgiven and me with my balls - and dick - intact. And if that didn't happen and the Sisters of Annis had other plans, then I hoped that maybe my end would be quick. But for now, The Countess awaited...