Blood Slave

by Syra Bond

  ‘How can I be saved?’

  ‘You were the one who brought the infection here. You were the infected carrier who enabled him to start his flock. Now your immunity has been destroyed because you have been infected by the others. Now, you are no better than them. But it is not too late. I can bring you back. This is a phial of your own original blood - as well as the original infection to which you were immune it carries the antidote which can defeat the rampant germ that now runs within you.’

  She did not undo the straps at my wrist - it did not seem to matter. I felt my upper lip curling as she held the needle of the syringe against my arm.

  ‘Will it hurt?’ I asked.

  ‘No,’ she said increasing the pressure of the needle’s tip.

  I sensed my disappointment to her answer. There would be no pain - no delight - and I would be cured. My increasing craving for blood would be halted. No longer would I shrink from the light, or feel the burning on my skin of its bright violating rays. No longer would I suck at the holes in my canine teeth, draw out the last drops of another’s blood and spread them onto my tongue.

  Another shiver of disappointment passed through me. I felt the needle puncturing my skin. I felt the fluid entering my veins. I was warm, as if it was heating my blood, melting the coldness of the terrible infection that had been running for so long through my body.

  Within minutes, I felt the frenzy leaving me. When I looked up into the light I knew it had passed. My eyes filled with tears but it was not an expression of sorrow or pain - it was relief. I felt my spirit returning - it was as if I was being reborn. I felt the flavour of the darkness easing away as the light overcomes the dark at dawn.

  I heard again the howling outside the door and realised that I must escape.

  Nurse Roslin was crouched at my feet, her short skirt pulled up high on her thighs, her smooth-notched panties pulled tightly into the furrow of her crack. I wanted to reach out and run my fingers along it - to feel its warmth and her wetness soaking through the filmy covering that hugged the shape of her flesh like a second skin. The syringe was still in her hand - held between her two fingers, her thumb still pressed against the plunger. The barrel was empty; only a single drop now oozing from the end of the bloodstained needle. She looked delectable - exhausted and overtaken by her effort and sacrifice.

  ‘You have saved me,’ I said. ‘Now save yourself.

  ‘I cannot,’ she said holding up the syringe. ‘There is no more.’

  ‘Surely - ’

  ‘No, Syra, but you are safe now. We must act quickly. There are many who would harm you. The seed of evil is spread broadly. You must get as far away from here as you can.’

  She struggled to her feet and started undoing the bonds at my wrists. She bent and freed my ankles. I could hardly stand. I felt nauseas and dizzy.

  ‘Will you be alright?’ I asked.

  ‘It has become my mission to help others. My own safety is not important.’

  ‘Can I do anything to help?’

  ‘Leave. Get away from here. Be free of the seed. My reward is your safety.’

  I stroked her forehead.

  ‘I had no idea,’ I said apologetically.

  ‘It does not matter. Go!’

  I pushed my hand between her thighs and ran my fingers along the succulent wet crack of her cunt - the thin material that covered it was so warm and wet. I felt a shiver of excitement somewhere deep between my hips. I felt my true life returning.

  ‘Let me lick your cunt,’ I said. ‘Please, let me run my tongue along its furrow, let me taste its sweetness, let me probe into its darkness - ’

  ‘Go!’

  I ran my fingers down the crack again. I pressed the tip of my forefinger against her anus. It opened beneath the pressure and my finger eased in. The tightness around my knuckle caused the heat in my own cunt to increase.

  A dribble of blood-smeared spit oozed from the corner of her mouth.

  I bent and licked it away. I let the tip of my tongue find its way between her red painted lips. My finger went deeper into her anus and, as the material of her tight pulled panties split around its end, she drove herself onto it and started sucking feverishly at my tongue.

  She broke away.

  ‘Go! You must be quick, before the darkness comes and they are free again.’

  As I climbed through the window and ran towards the sound of the breaking waves, I knew I would never see Nurse Roslin again. I hoped she would continue her mission; I hoped she would be able to escape. The more I thought about my captivity in Pacific Heights, the more like a dream it seemed. The more I went over what had happened, the more it seemed ridiculous and impossible.

  I did not stop until I reached the shore - Malibu Beach. I sat on the heavy timber framed base of a lifeguard tower. Two beautiful women in tightly pulled tangas strolled by; their labia pressed against the inside of the form fitting material revealed neat cracks along the front of the gussets. I dangled my feet in the water as it eased back and forth in the heavy Pacific swell. For a moment, I thought of holding my face next to one of their necks, prising my fingers into that delectable dent in the material of her tight pulled panties, feeling my teeth breaking the skin, sucking hard at the wounds, tasting the aromatic saltiness of her blood, drawing it in through the narrow holes drilled into my canine teeth. I bit my lips. The desire began to pass - or at least to ease. I knew it might never go away entirely, and I knew I continued to carry the germ in my blood but, I thought, if I ever did pass it on to someone else I would never again let them pass it back to me.

  One of the women caught my eye. She smiled, opening her mouth in a broad Californian grin. The sun caught her teeth - her pointed and brilliantly white canine teeth sparkled in its light. A thrilling quiver passed over my skin. She took a step towards me and reached out her hand. I stood up and took it. She bent forward and whispered something in my ear. I did not hear what it was - the sound of the ocean and the thumping of my heart drowned her words. I did not care. I ran my hand down the front of her tanga briefs and drew my finger along the delectable furrow of her wet and welcoming cunt. She pressed her open mouth against my neck. All I could hear was the crashing waves and the pounding of blood in my veins.

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