Leela Brown and the Mutant Apocalypse. A tale of survival, multidimensional romance, transformation and the puppies of war.
By H'eidi Knight
Part Five
Welcome steadfast reader. You find a nervous Leela at the keyboard recording her thoughts. She has made love to the universe and consummated with the cosmic. Can there be a climax more profound and meaningful than this?
I'm personally vexed by the idea that there might not be! (Certainly not in the dreadful 1999 fantasy novel I've been mining/rewriting for interludes.)
After worrying that the dramatic climax of Sarah Knight and the Fawn Princess was a girl on envelope battle for supremacy, we might have slightly over compensated by having Leela make love to the universe itself in the last episode. ... what? You didn't read it? Go back now, gentle reader. While we don't pride ourselves in being at the very forefront of unusual erotica (sometimes erotica without any love scenes at all ...) we do occasionally pride ourselves in writing sex that possibly nobody has tried before. You really owe it to yourself not to miss that one.
Now I've patted myself on the back repeatedly for last episode's climax, let us push on with today's 9k of woes, wonders and wordy witchcraft.
As usual: Copyright (c) 2014 rests with the one known, to fans of my unique tarot reading skills, as Heidi Eros. Sometimes the mysterious as hell Heidi Knight or just plain Heidi Nighy to the Tax Man. (Grumble)
Donation: I don't get any kickbacks for any of this, but I still believe it is an excellent idea. Support the Archive. Can you imagine a world without this resource? It would be dull and tasteless ... and you'd probably end up writing your own stories. (And that is harder than you think, trust me! ...) So go on .. donate a little and keep this site going. Out there is someone about to click the link and visit here for the first time. We owe it to him/her/shler/herm to make sure these stories are available. xx
Chairwoman Heidi: Jan 2014. Manageress of the Bistro of Nearly Infinite Forms and Archetypes.
Wednesday 1999
I get lazy as the afternoon slides past. I was planning on walking back to the campsite, but the warm sun and occasional ice cream have turned me into a cat. Wanting to just curl up and expend no effort. The only cash I have is notes left in my purse and don't fancy presenting a £5 to the bus driver and asking for the smallest fare he probably does. If you have journeyed with me this far you will also know I am not the most assertive person in the universe. I couldn't, at 16 (nearly 17, I keep reminding myself) walk into a shop and ask for change without compensating the shop keeper for the awful rudeness and imposition. Mevagissey isn't the Monte Carlo or Rome, but most of the shops don't sell extremely low value things that wouldn't massively eat into my remaining cash. As the holiday draws to a close I've been so extravagant a spender that my remaining funds are being jealously guarded. (Not so jealously that I'm not prepared to blow the bus fare on saving my pixie boots from the sandy march back eastwards.)
A charity shop seems my best bet for breaking this £5 without having to spend £3 on a collection of varnished seashells glued to a piece of driftwood somewhere else. I find the shop that sold me my shoulder bag the previous week. There are a couple of boxes of books outside priced at a staggering 10p each. I consider grabbing a couple, and then apologising profusely for only having £5 to pay for them. The idea of this makes me feel quite guilty. I hunt through the boxes looking for at least 7 or 8 paperbacks that I want so it doesn't seem I'm just here to make change.
It is fruitless. The books in the outside boxes are just ghastly holiday blockbuster sorts of things. Probably donated by every Cornish guest house owner at the end of the season as they clear out bedrooms for all the dross people can't be bothered to pack and take home with them. While I might not have the sophistication of Sarah's taste in literature, I can't read this stuff without a vortex of internal embarrassment overwhelming me. Maybe inside the shop has a better selection. There is a rack just by the door. These are priced at a bank breakingly huge 50p a book, but offer a much better selection. At 50p I feel happy to only need to get a couple of books to justify troubling the lady at the register with my money.
An author name catches my attention. Colin Wilson. I remember Sarah listing him under things to share with me. I can't recall the title of the book she wanted me to read, though I've pawed over her today note multiple times. I curse myself for not having memorized the lists of things, then remember I've got it with me. I pull it out and check the title... 'Voyage to a Beginning' she said. This one is called THE OUTSIDER and immediately the title appeals to me. I'm a transgender teenager, so my current mindset is to heavily identify with the outsider concept. I flick quickly through and catch a few sentences that really grab me. That is 50p well spent I conclude. Now a final selection and I'm off to the bus stop.
Oh, another Colin Wilson .. someone seems to have been clearing out their bookcase of Wilson books. This one is a movie tie in to a film called LIFEFORCE, originally published as The Space Vampires. Despite considering myself a science fiction fan, I haven't seen the film, though the ethereal woman on the cover gives me cause to wonder if I shouldn't track it down. She has Sarah's elfin features and slightly otherworldly appeal. I hunt through to see if any other Wilson books are in the rack, but that seems to be it.
The bus schedule isn't as obliging as on my previous visit, but this time I'm not worried my parents will walk past and see me cross dressed and in a state of semi-panic. By the time the bus turns up a small group of people have gathered. We crowd onboard and scramble for seats. I manage to get one near the front. I've only got a few minutes of uphill chugging and a beautiful descent to experience before I click the bell and hop off. It is embarrassing, but I am feeling indolent.
Back at the caravan I try to turn some of the notes I've made into actual bits of story. I'm feeling restless with energy now and wish I'd walked the couple of miles back. I give up and plunge into The Space Vampires.
I'm disturbed by the arrival home of the family. They bluster into the caravan sun burnt and happy looking. My mum tuts indulgently at me surrounded by scribbles, lying down reading Science Fiction again. It is like the first few days of the holiday, except this time I'm wearing a skirt. I begin babbling about how amazing this book is. Like the best of literature, I've vanished completely inside it for hours. It is only now, jarred loose from the magic of the pages, that I begin to understand why it's blend of excellent story, philosophy and surprising twists has gripped me so completely.
Mum gets a bit vexed at discovering I've not eaten the sandwiches. Apparently I am vanishing into nothingness and need a good feed. I protest that I ate lunch out in Mevagissey, but since that consisted of an ice cream and a can of seven up I'm not really doing myself any favours. Dinner is suggested, but I'm not keen on the idea of the beef element of the stew suggestion. I make a dedicated effort to eat the non-ham parts of the sandwich selection from hours ago, but this is, apparently, too little, too late. Dad comments that the last time I had anything decent sized to eat was the Chinese Restaurant the previous week. Before we quite know what is happening everyone is back in the car and heading toward St Austell for another meal at the Jade Palace.
It feels a little strange without Sarah, Claire, Elaine and Chris in the restaurant, but I diplomatically don't mention that. In my mind it seems I'm still waiting for them to turn up. Dad has to take Ryan to the toilet, even though he knows where it is. Mum asks me if it is okay for me to use the ladies toilets, despite the fact I've been using only female toilets now exclusively for a whole week and it doesn't even occur to me now that this would be an issue. Funny how that switch in my brain has flipped over. Bless her, she doesn't want me to get into trouble. I say it would probably get me into more trouble sneaking into the men's toilets. I'm not letting any men sneak a look inside my briefs to prove I qualify to pee standing up still.
Dinner is nice and I make a real effort to tuck a lot of stir fried vegetables into myself. I am hungry once I start eating, it was just a case of getting going. I mention to my parents that I'm now a vegetarian and they groan. It seems too many changes stacking up one on top of another. I point out that I was going down that route way before the holiday, and bless him, Ryan backs me up by pointing out that I've been skipping/reducing the meat bits of meals for a while. I could hug him, but he is pulling faces and shooting me with those imaginary laser pistols again. I shoot back instead to establish the sister/brother bond with some mutually assured destruction.
We get back to the caravan as the last of the sunshine is vanishing. Tonight I don't want to walk along to the shower block, probably a holdover from the previous evening's humpfest. I make an excuse that I want to finish my book and snuggle into a corner of the caravan sofa. Frustratingly it is too noisy inside to concentrate, mum and dad chatting, the television, Ryan. I grab a nightdress from my bag and wish everyone a good evening, irritated that I won't get to finish the final couple of chapters of The Space Vampires today.
As I slip into sleep I'm going over the final part of today's writing. Leela lying on the beach in the sunshine. What happened to her? Was the cosmic experience real on some level or was it just the hallucination as she was exposed to the transformation serum and lack of oxygen in her brain. I didn't explore those issues in the brief last paragraph. I want to leave it vague, but a big part of me wants to hint that something profound and other-worldly did happen.
The Early Hours of Thursday Morning. August 1999
Leela stood up and, with disappointment, ran her hands down the sleekness of the suit. Beneath it she could feel the presence of the penis the Reality Bridge had given her. Under the influence of the selkie serum she had become fully female again for a time, as the transformation had sidetracked her genetic structure into a feminine proto-fish being. Transforming back had restored the irritation between her thighs. She felt somewhat encouraged that the change hadn't taken 100%. On some weird level she felt sure some of her aquatic form was still with her.
"I am becoming more of a mutant with each shift." She felt the tiny vestigial gills on the smoothness of her neck. "I dread encountering anything else with the power to alter me."
"At least we can speak again." Sarah pointed out.
"What is this place?" Leela looked around. The beach stretched off impressively to a headland. Behind them was the solid rock of a cliff, with two huge vents set high up on it. Fresh water poured from them in endless streams to crash down upon the beach.
"That leads to that insane water system you swam through. After you drank the second potion, you were floating randomly around inside it, slowly drowning as your gills closed over and you sank downward. Then you stirred into life and began to crawl upward unto the light, got caught in the current again and washed out." Sarah said, pointing to the one on the right. "I was dragged along with you like a surfboard tethered to your ankle."
"I remember some of that." Leela mused, gazing at the impressive height she must have survived from the outflow. "I don't recall being spat out of a vent 30 feet in the air though," she under-estimated the drop.
"That is quite a climb back up, if you want to check back inside." Sarah craned her neck.
"I think I'll skip that for now." Leela replied. Her eyes traced the shape of the headland and took in the unusual sky. "Well, Toto, I don't think we are in Kansas anymore." she said.
"No, I've never seen a Midwestern sky with purple clouds and two suns." Sarah said.
"I'm glad you see that as well, I thought that was just my eyes readjusting from the fish-woman formula."
Leela walked down to the periphery of the beach and stared at the horizon. It didn't seem to make sense. It had a jagged edge to it, like someone had tried to join several different photographs of the ocean together into a panoramic spread, but not quite got the join right. Each photograph had a slightly different exposure and colour balance as well. One 'photograph' must have seriously delayed, because it contained a sun hanging much lower in the sky. The main sun was higher and hotter.
"Freaky!" Sarah said. "I'm slightly worried about going around the headland for fear we might discover a half buried Statue of Liberty."
"It's a mad house! A mad house!" Leela said. She shook her head to try and clear the vision, but reality continued to be disturbingly fractured once her eyes had refocused. "Pick a direction" she said, gesturing up and down the beach.
"That way" Sarah pointed to the bearing that kept the sea at their right and the headland at their left. "If there is a half buried Statue of Liberty, it is going to be in that direction."
"You aren't joking, are you?" Leela asked.
"I never joke about Charlton Heston classics!" Sarah said.
They walked and the twin suns appeared to descend in unison. The lower of the two reached the ocean first and created a spectacular sunset that affected only a jagged section of the sky. As they watched, it darkened and the stars came out. Neither of the girls said anything, they continued to walk and made good time to the curve of the cliff edge. Leela occasionally walked on the beach, other times in the surf. Whatever changes the formula made to her body, temperature regulation seemed to have remained. Though the day was warm, the water should have felt cooler, if not chilly. Leela's bare legs and feet found the surf pleasant and inviting. She also couldn't escape the feeling that she could dive into the water and swim much faster than the plodding slap of her feet on the sand could take her.
"I want to swim," she said to Sarah. "It is an itch inside my mind."
"You just nearly drowned." Sarah replied. "What if going into the ocean triggers some change in you and you zonk out again?"
"I don't think it will .." Leela said.
"If it does, I am so insubstantial I can't save you. You will sink and drown."
"What if I just try it in the shallow surf, dip my head under ... if I start to 'fish out' I will crawl back onto land and annoy the Born Again Christians." Leela promised.
"It is your D.N.A. ...I'm not telling you what to do." Sarah said, with a worried expression on her glowing blue face.
Leela inched forward into the surf. The further she got in, the more she had to admit to herself she yearned for it. It was a soul deep feeling of rightness to return to the water. She got out far enough to sit down and still keep her shoulders (and gills) clear. She took a deep breath and dipped her head under.
The first thing she noticed was no reflex to shut her eyes. She had kept them open the whole time and the salt water didn't sting or blur. Perfect 20/20 underwater vision, she thought as she glanced around and grinned to herself. An incoming wave lifted her a little and she felt her bum lift clear of the sand and legs to unfold backward. She floated in three foot of water, facedown, arms and legs stretched out like a starfish. It occurred to her that this had to be a bit disturbing to look at. Like a dead body in a swimming pool from a cheap murder mystery. In deference to Sarah's nerves she lifted her head out and stared directly into her partner's intense face.
"Holding my breath!" she gasped, letting the air go. "I feel fine, no changes and no out of body experiences with sexual overtones."
"Good," her ghost said.
She took another big lungful of air and dipped her head under again. Her legs flipped backward a little and she surged forward in the water.
"Hang on, just try and water ski behind me ..." she called backward, letting the coiled energy in her muscles go. The ocean embraced her and she dove forward like a porpoise. She heard a squeak of surprise from Sarah as the 10 yard rule heaved her into Leela's wake.
Leela found each downstroke of her body caused her knees and shoulders to dip uncomfortably close to the sand. She angled slightly out into deeper water and picked up speed. The air began to burn slightly in her chest, but something made her resist lifting her head out and replacing the breath with a fresh one. Instead she sipped a little at the ocean water, not swallowing, but just swirling it around her mouth ... a feeling of relief washed through her. Reflex pushed the mouthful through the tiny gill openings. She let the air in her lungs go and drew another mouthful of water.
"What the ..." she heard Sarah cry, and boosted her speed to escape the scolding. Of course it was useless. Sarah was just hauled along even faster. She had reached speedboat velocity now. A sleek grey missile darting through the water. She dove downward to about 10 feet below the surface, then let the velocity of her passage take her back up. She broke the surface in a perfect arc, looking around for a few seconds before smashing back down into the sea.
A village lay in the cove just to her left. She porpoised again, taking another bearing and a third time just for the sheer joy of it. On re-entry to the water she twisted her body and corkscrewed downwards in a spiral of bubbles. At the bottom of the spiral she allowed herself to slow and look upward. The ocean surface shimmered in the setting sunshine. A perfect plane of rippling glass more than 30 feet above her. The only thing that broke that view, both enchantingly and judgementally, was Sarah staring back at her. She risked a grin of sheer joy, then kicked back toward the surface. 20 feet to go, 10 feet, 5 feet, she breached the surface like a rocket. Falling back into the water to be caressed by ten billion bubbles that clung to her like aquatic static.
"Fun time over!" Sarah shouted through the wash of water noise. "Lets check out that creepy little village."
Leela glanced at her, then nodded in affirmation. Completely beneath the water surface she picked up speed and headed into the harbour. The bottoms of boats and the rocky harbour floor were crystal clear in the slanting rays of the sun. Leela poured on the speed as the water depth become lower and lower. She heard Sarah shout something else, but it didn't sound like English. At the last moment, before the harbour wall, she jacked her body upwards and changed her forward velocity into lift. Arms squeezed tightly into her sides she launched clear of the water in an arc. Forward rolling and spreading her arms and legs at the last moment she smacked feet down.
Water exploded from her mouth and lungs. She whooped a huge breath of air in and let out a strangled hoot of joy. This was cut short as oxygen deprivation made spots dance in her eyes. She fell forward onto her hands and knees in sucking more lungfuls air. She felt her insides switch back to processing air in a smooth effortless shift.
"Now that was sensible and not in the less bit inconspicuous." Sarah said, looking around at the small crowd of people watching Leela.
Cornwall 1999
The thing I love about summer mornings is the time the sun rises. It sneaks above the horizon so early. The day has begun and it feels like you should be out and moving around hours and hours before any sensible getting up time realistically comes around. That you can just lie around in bed, reading and goofing about is a lovely selfish feeling that imparts just the right amount of delicious guilt into anyone with the Protestant Work Ethic anywhere in their genetic makeup.
As soon as my eyes will focus I finish the last chapter of The Space Vampires. It fills me with a desire to write, so I tug out my note book and begin filling it with words. I am careful not to read back over my writing from yesterday for fear that comparison with Colin Wilson's tight intelligent prose will make me depressed and I will stop.
I hear the sound of the family moving inside the caravan. I doubt I can swing another alone day, especially after my skipping the sandwiches yesterday.
I get a sudden attack of guilt. I've woken up and NOT read today's note from Sarah. Instead I've got all wrapped up in science fiction and my own writing. I reach into my bag and search among the envelopes for Thursday. I can already feel her playfully, ouch .. not so playfully, poking me in the ribs in the far future as she reads my admission of guilt and neglect. I am forced to drag her off to bed and make to love for an insanely long time with lots of teasing and laughter.
Thursday Note
My own sweet Leela, Today's theme is fear. When I was young I used to naively think that love was the absence of fear. Now I have reached the grand age of 17, I've concluded that love is the process by which we remove fear from all the corners it has crept into our lives. The first fear being that we are unlovable and unlovely. In the four days we had I like to think we began the process of tackling the fear. I loved watching you gaining confidence and stepping into the world you'd found difficult before. Now I'd love to think you could dress in that swimsuit and tights you wore while you 'hid' in the forest, but now walk boldly through the campsite.
Only two full days now. Miss you xx Share with you: Masturbation has never been more fun. Holding hands Listening to other people's music as we walk past. Shopping for clothes Making salad Watching sunsets Sharing scones Laughter
Her list of things in today's note is a gentle reminder of our 4 days together. It makes me miss her even more. Without knowing how long it is until I'm summoned by Ryan or mum to join in the family day out, I get scribbling on my novel.
As Leela was able to lift her head up and take her first normal breathes, she saw the curious crowd around her. With a sinking feeling in her chest she recognised the clothes worn by them to be similar to the dark woollen suits she had seen in the City. These seemed slightly more archaic though ... old fashioned and dour. The last time she had been freezing to death and naked, desperate for help. This time that fear and panic was gone. She felt powerful and confident. A sleek grey skinned ocean goddess. She flicked back her golden locks and stood tall. If she was grabbed by anyone they would feel the kick of muscles that could drive her through the water as fast as a speedboat. She suspected her upper body to be equally strong. Feeling a little like a super heroine, she walked over to the nearest harbour front shop and glanced into the window. The small crowd continued to stare.
"I saw the whole thing," she heard someone whisper. "She came into the harbour as fast as a dolphin chasing an ocean liner's bow wave. Leaped up onto the dockside."
"Who is she?" another voice whispered back.
"Is she one of the Big House staff?" a third voice questioned.
"I would like a meal, can anyone recommend a decent place to eat?" she asked loudly, but vaguely to the harbourside.
"I find the Old Quay to be a excellent hostelry." an old man answered, finding it difficult to take his attention from the skintight grey bodysuit. Leela turned and thanked him directly. She found that playing the part of someone confident and powerful made feel confident. With a swagger in her hips, she sashayed along the harbour to the inn.
Had there been a piano player tinkling the ivories as she entered he would have stopped playing. She crossed the saloon area and walked up to the bar with every eye in the place watching her. Ghostly Sarah followed, unseen and uncommenting, the later quality made Leela a little uncomfortable.
"I've been told this is the place to eat, I would have a plate of today's special." she overworked her diction a little and came off sounding slightly like the lady of the manor.
"Are you one of the Master's new guests?" the Inn Keeper asked her with a note of deference in his voice.
"Do I look like one of his guests?" she asked, hoping that arrogance and vagueness would secure her a meal. She turned and walked to a free table, indicating that that was obviously a rhetorical question. A few seconds later a bowl of excellent soup and a hunk of fresh farmhouse bread appeared at her table. The skittish waitress nearly spilling it in her nervousness. Leela almost blew her performance by thanking the girl. She bit back the reflex and tasted the soup. It was superb quality, rich and warm. She finished the bowl in minutes and used the bread to gather the final traces of it.
"We've taken the trouble of preparing you a complimentary room." the Inn Keeper said. "Number 13, at the top of the stairs."
"Oh, you can't!" Sarah said. Leela couldn't be seen addressing empty air, so she held her reply in.
"That is very acceptable." she inclined her head in thanks. She stood up and walked to the bottom of the stairs.
"Shall I have the rest of your meal sent up to your room, Miss?" The Inn Keeper asked.
"That would be, excellent." she acknowledged.
The room was wonderful. The view was harbourside, looking out onto the broad quay and the boats moored along it. A small crowd of people still stood in front of the tavern and gossiped. When one of them glanced up and spotted her in the window she pointed a shaky finger and crossed herself.
"I've made quite a stir." she said.
"Has the salt water got into your brain?" Sarah said.
"No, I am like a superhero." Leela replied. She crossed to a heavy oak dresser and reached out a single hand. It must have massed more than three times her own body weight, but she lifted it in a smooth motion.
"Holy Mother of the Baby Cheeses!" Sarah swore.
"Undersea muscles, I am like Aqua-Woman .. " Leela held the dresser for a few seconds more to show off, then lowered it casually. "They can bill me for the meal and room later, but if I don't pay what could they possibly do to me?"
There was a polite knock on the door and the nervous waitress entered with a large tray filled with main course items.
"Yer ladyship didn't specify wot she warnted, so cook 'as put a platter of a bit of everything." she curtseyed and placed the tray down on the dresser.
"Thank you," Leela couldn't resist it this time. The girl blushed and curtseyed again.
"Does yer ladyship want me for anything else?" the girl pulled suggestively at the opening of her blouse, freeing the collar and exposing the smooth white skin of her bosom.
"Not right now." Leela said. Hell, she thought, is sex also complimentary here? The girl hastily buttoned up her blouse and scurried out of the room.
"That wasn't weird at all." Sarah said.
"I agree, that is the sort of room service you expect at this kind of hotel." Leela laughed nervously, but Sarah just frowned.
"I think we need to get out of here." Sarah said, crossing to the window. "You could leap from the window and easily hit the water with your freakish leg muscles. Swim out to sea and return tomorrow morning." Sarah watched the sunset and the darkening sky.
"There is no harm in resting tonight ..." Leela picked up a roast potato from the tray and munched it absent mindedly. "I might as well have a sleep, I am very tired."
"Not a good idea!" Sarah said.
"Why not?"
"This just feels like one of those terrible cliche type towns were you don't want to find yourself after darkness falls." Sarah said. Leela is climbing into the bed and pulling the cover over herself.
"Oh you worry too much, I've got super strength and can breath underwater." she yawned and rolled over. "We can talk about this in the morning."
As Leela drifts into sleep, Sarah finds the room sliding into a misty outline of itself. She sits in the weird limbo waiting for Leela to awaken and re-establish the mental link between them. Hours seem to past, it is hard to track time in the nowhere state. Suddenly she is aware that someone else is in the room with Leela. A vague form that seems to be a cluster of shadows.
"Wake up!!!" Sarah yells. Leela stirs at the shout, but doesn't awaken. The shape moves toward the bed. "WAKE UP!" Sarah leans down toward Leela's slumbering form. Her eyes flicker open. The room swims into focus and Leela's eyes take in the darkness. The shapes, the hands reaching out to take hold of her.
"Ooooooh" she says as lips kiss her clavicle and move deliciously up her jugular vein. She seems to be resting in a warm vat of lust. Her skin glowing with desire. There is a weight on top of her, pinning her down. She knows her muscles could fling this weight across the room, but it feels so good. Crushing her with passion. Her fingers grasp a double handful of the mattress and tear great chunks of it free.
"She is a feisty one, master." a woman's voice near her left ear says.
"And strong." a rich velvet masculine voice purrs.
She wants to say "You'd better believe, buster! I could smash you both to pieces." but instead she hears her voice whisper "My master, what do you wish?"
"Oh fuck!" she hears Sarah say from a long way away.
"Are you mine, child?" the velvet asks.
"Body and soul, yours my lord!" she hears her voice sycophantically say.
"Excellent, I will take your body, and then your soul."
She wants to say "That's not good!" but she hears a long groan of lust coming from deep down in her chest.
"Undress me ..." the velvet orders. Her hands eagerly grasp at his clothing. In the darkness of the room opens her eyes wide and discovers another of her abilities is perfect night vision. She sees the shape of the Master, kneeling across her. The forms of three of his servants, women dressed in beautiful flowing gowns. They perch around the bed gazing at her with hungry expressions.
"She sees us, Master!" One of them reacts as Leela's eyes lock with hers.
"In this darkness, impossible!" The Master replies, suddenly distracted, as Leela's eager undressing of him is ripping his clothes into shreds. "My silk shirt!" he complains as she rends the fabric. He backhand slaps her across the face for her carelessness, but Leela barely feels it.
Excellent, she thinks. Superstrength, waterbreathing, night vision and bloody tough. Now if I can just stop my conscious mind being a total gimp to this vampire, I'll be home free.
"I am sorry, Master!" she hears her voice sob.
"As you should be." he climbs off her, leaving her body crying out for his weight across her again. 'Oh, fucking get over yourself!' she tells it. Inside her mind she is running around trying to find ways of breaking this vamperic thrall. It is like molten lead across her willpower.
"Now watch while my brides undress me!" the servants move like dribbling mercury to lustily and reverentially remove the rest of his attire. There is a lot of kissing and stroking from them which he is obviously enjoys massively. By the time they remove his silk underwear his pale white penis is standing to attention. This they do not touch, though if hovering and adoring something were an Olympic sport they would have Gold, Silver and Bronze.
He moves back to the bed and slides his weight across her.
"Take me master!" she begs. Inside this begging shell is Leela's mind, suddenly delighting in the temporary, she hopes temporary, fact that the Reality Bridge replaced her female opening with a set of 16 year boy bits.
"In my own time, slave!" he promises. He is obviously enjoying the sensation of her slick bodysuit. It is a bit kinky looking, she has to admit. The Master is apparently a bit of fetish fan and likes his lovers in skintight bondage things. He rubs himself over her and grasps her buttocks, thighs and breasts through the material. His own breath is now coming in little frantic gasps. She hopes he will finish himself off this way, but suddenly he stops.
"Disrobe!" he commands. Here comes the disappointment, she thinks, pulling at the neck of the suit to draw it down her body. His eyes lingering on her perfect breasts, then following the fabric's descent down over her flat stomach and over her hips.
"A boy!" he exclaims. "Why didn't you tell me?" he rages.
"Master, I am under a hypnotic thrall, I don't tend to volunteer information in those circumstances." she says. She feels a little return of her will power while he is angry and distracted. The sentence may have started with the word 'Master' but it ended in a slightly sarcastic and disrespectful tone. This alerts him and he suddenly regards her with his full gaze. She feels her willpower vanish again.
'Shit' she thinks.
"Put it back on, I would have you as a neuter, rather than a boy." he says.
'I'm a pretty hot fucking boy, you arsehole, you don't know what your missing!' she laughs inside her head. She feels her hands pulling back the bodysuit over her.
"You will take me and finish me in your mouth!" the Master orders. He looks into her eyes and sees the set of her jaw. His erection begins to wilt a little. "or possibly I do not desire oral satisfaction from you."
She thinks 'He can sense how pissed off you are' and probably worries that when he cums and his control slips for a moment those jaw muscles might be doing something more than worshipping his undead perky. Against the thrall Leela feels a predatory smile spread across her face. His erection wilts a little more at that row of teeth.
"I can crack an abalone shell with these teeth... master." she says with honeyed sarcasm.
"I thought you didn't volunteer information." he growled. She widens her smile. Around the room the brides hiss in alarm. This is the first time anyone has spoken back to the master.
"I thought you might want to know that .. master."
"Roll over!" he commands. With savage disappointment at how fast her muscles twitch to obey his order, she flips over onto her stomach. He gathers a rough handful of her golden hair and she feels his weight settle onto her buttocks. She feels the judder of his motions, obviously wanking himself over her. That's it, she thinks, worship my perfect behind. You can't have me, so you need to desperately fantasize how amazing it would have been..
There is a grunt of restrained pleasure from the master as he unloads. Leela is delighted to register she doesn't even feel anything hit the back of her suit.
"Roll back." he orders. She twists her body around away, fancying that the command didn't feel so powerful this time. He moves up her body and fastens his mouth over her neck.
It has sucked so far, she thinks, now the sucking continues. She feels his teeth chewing at the blood vessel in her neck. For one desperate moment she hopes skin as tough as a shark's arsehole is another quality Dr Cruz's serum has given her, then he breaks through. Her blood splashes into his mouth and he draws hard at her. His whole body spasms like he has just taken a mouthful of fresh cesspool. In an instant his thrall lifts off her.
"Get the screaming fuck off me!" she says. Her hand grabs his hair and peels him away. She flings him across the room to smash the dressing table into match wood. She stands up as the three brides close in. They are fast, inhumanly fast. Their hands grasp at her arms and lock on with steely force. Leela swings two of them together in a bone mashing collision. Unconscious, they let go. She turns to the remaining bride.
"Had your fun, bitch?" she asks, lashing out a punch that would fracture the side of a ship. The Bride side steps it with ease. Damn vampire speed, she thinks. "Stalemate, you can't grab me, because the minute your hand touches me I'll snap off every undead finger."
She hears the Master groan as he recovers.
"Such power, such potency....." he slurred drunkenly.
"Fortunately, my ancestors spawned in another ocean than yours did. My blood cells are quite different." Leela laughed and kicked him in the head. The force of the kick drove him into and partly through the wall. His bride squeaked in alarm and rushed to attend him. Leela used her distraction to land a bone crushing downward blow to the base of her neck. She folded like a poorly thought through business enterprise.
Leela walked to the window and stepped up onto the ledge.
"I can't say it has been fun," she said to the two brides rapidly recovering from their head trauma, "Don't bother trying to follow me."
She dove from the window ledge and landed with a slap of bare feet on the quayside. A chilling shriek rose from the room above her. She glanced around and assessed her options. The tide was out and now the inner harbour was dry. All about the dock stood shadowy figures that had to be, from their glowing red eyes and sartorial elegance, members of the Master's household. At the howl of anger, they all focused on Leela.
"Holy Fukushima Prefecture!" Sarah cursed. Leela began to run toward the ocean. She could smell it vividly in her beautifully flaring nostrils. She mentally added 'Ocean Sense' to her growing list of powers. She could feel it, almost taste it ... she just needed to dodge a harbour full of blood sucking bastards to get to it.
"One for the Master!" the closest one howled, grabbing at her.
"One for the dame!" she answered, punching it square in the face. Unlike the brides these didn't appear to be nimble on their feet. Her fist connected squarely and it's head literally came apart like a rotten piece of fruit hurled at a politician. She picked up speed and ran. All around her vampires were slithering out of shops and restaurants, hissing and howling like a bad punk record.
The glint of moonlight on water was just ahead of her. Three shadowy figures closed on her, with a spring of her leg muscles she vaulted them. She was up on the harbour wall now.
"Imperious Rex!" she cried.
The air began to fill with bats, thousands of bats. They dived madly at her hair and exposed neckline. She lunged forward in a long low dive. The water seemed to rise to meet her. Shallow, maybe only a couple of feet, but blessed relief. Her gills opened and she kicked forward like an orca. Powerful leg muscles churning the shallows into foam and confusion. The deep ocean called her and she answered it in a groan like whale song.
Above her the bats swirled in impotent fury. They chased the spume kicked up from her passage. Tearing the night sky with chittering and squeaking. Leela could sense a meaning behind those squeaks. Orders and counter orders from the hierarchy of elder blood suckers in the cloud. As the water grew deeper, their calls began to fade. Desperate pleas for anyone to track her, the master demands it. Behind it all was the pervasive call of the master himself, ordering her to return, promising her riches and a place in his household. Leela dove deep, feeling the pressure from those tiny pockets of air she still held inside her body. Her inner ears and parts of her digestive system cramped. She felt her hands touch the sandy mud and knew she had reached bottom for now. Her body adjusted to the depth and she began to slow her frantic oxygen exchange down.
"I don't suppose you can talk to me right now." Sarah said.
Leela hung motionless in the darkness. She wasn't inclined to answer.
"BREAKFAST," oh no. I am out of time. Ryan is screaming so loud I suspect most of South Cornwall will hear. I kick out of the sleeping bag and gather some clothes. I can already smell the bacon cooking, it still tickles my taste buds, but I don't want it. I need a shower, but grab some toast first.
"Launceston today, there is a castle. Bound to be bookshops, other stuff." Mum says as I dodge around her.
"Need to shower." I reply.
"I hope you aren't saving all your really long sentences for that book of yours." Mum laughs.
"I am writing that one down and using it!" I promise, grabbing a fresh towel and some clothes.
The shower block is busy this morning. Mums and daughters laughing and chatting. Towels piled atop heads like pastel turbans. I slip through this gender exclusive club not feeling remotely out of place or fake, which does give me pause for thought. I find a free cubicle and slide the door shut. Hot water, I've really become a junkie for it. I stand like the opening sequence of Carrie for almost the entire length of my 50p, then quickly scrub soap and shampoo, chasing those beeps that warn of cold water coming.
I enjoy the day. The family are in fine form and Launceston is lovely. It has an amazing bookshop which yields another couple Colin Wilson books to my growing library .. The Strength to Dream and The Mind Parasites. On the drive back to St Austell I loose myself in the second book. It's cover promises a tale inspired by H.P. Lovecraft's universe of cosmic horror. Just the sort of thing you want to read as the Cornish sun hammers through the car window and the cosmos seems have narrowed down a welcoming and nice place to be.
Leela sensed the dawn slowly manifesting itself. The cloud of vampires fled from the growing warmth in the sky. She and Sarah sat like underwater statues as the tide changed and the flow of the ocean moved back toward the harbour.
"Okay, what do we do now?" Sarah asked. Mute from water flowing through her vocal chords, Leela said nothing. Instead she kicked off the sandy bottom and swept toward the surface. Her body naturally equalised the pressure smoothly now. There was none of the discomfort of the previous night as she broke the surface. Without creating a ripple, Sarah rose with her.
Leela spat out a mouthful of water and breathed in."I can't believe neither of us saw all the clues in that village .." she said.
"We did see them, both of us, but we didn't process them." Sarah replied. Her anger and frustration over Leela's actions had bled away though the night. Now she was mentally just in a place to try and sort out the situation without wasting time on recriminations.
"Now what are our options?" Leela asked.
"In short order ... escape, confrontation, negotiation." Sarah said.
"Escape out to sea? ..." Leela mused.
"Anywhere you escape to .. back into the city, out into the ocean .. he or his people are going to follow us aren't they?" Sarah said. "That bite you have isn't healing very well." she observed.
"No, it hasn't closed over ...I know what you're thinking, and yes, its like I've been marked." Leela confessed. "Like I am a flashing dot on some vampire GPS system."
"Confrontation then .. there are hundreds of them." Sarah noted.
"Maybe thousands, that cloud of bats was massive."
"So unless they line up one by one to fight you ..." Sarah said.
"Negotiation."
"The Master doesn't seem like the kind of person who negotiates." Sarah pointed out.
"Yes, I sort of picked up on that vibe as well." Leela lay back in the water and allowed herself to float staring upwards for a time. "Last night I could almost hear his voice in that squeaking mass of bats. It was ordering me to return ... to bring myself to him."
"Understanding bat speech isn't one of your aquatic powers, is it?" Sarah asked.
"No, I think it came with being bitten by him."
Leela orientated on the coastline and the smudge that indicated the position of the village. Without another word she dipped below the surface and began to swim directly toward it.
"So we aren't escaping then?" Sarah asked. Leela shook her head and continued to swim. "Confrontation or negotiation then?"
"Maybe a bit of both ..." Leela said, then filled her lungs with seawater and poured on the speed.
Leela arrived on the harbourside like an ocean goddess. However impressive yesterday's leap onto the quay was, today was a performance. She entered the inner harbour just below the surface and going as fast as she dared. She began to circle at speed, trying to generate a vortex of water. It didn't quite work how she wanted it to, but it still looked impressive. At the last moment she dipped down and under it. Rising in the middle on a spume of fluid that broke the surface about 15 feet into the air. For a long moment she hung at the apex of this and took in the astonished faces of the Master's villagers watching her, then she crashed back into the water. Hugging the harbour floor she darted in and flipped out of the water. This landing was like a gymnast dismount. Feet tight together, back arched slightly, arms extended to the morning sun.
I'm no vampire scared of the sunshine, she thought. I am a force of nature ... the child of the ocean and of science. Fear me!
The crowd did step back. Some of the them actually running away, she noted with satisfaction. She allowed the ocean water to drain from her nose and mouth. No coughing or spluttering today, she suppressed that with iron willpower. She drew a breath of air inside and looked at the villagers.
"Which way to that bastard vampire's house?" she said. Someone pointed a shaky finger toward a brooding and unmissable gothic mansion high on the headland. "Of course," she laughed. "It was bloody obvious, sorry to trouble you."
There is nervous laughter all through the crowd. I bet they hate the Master and his household as well she thinks. Instead of taking the road that leads up toward the mansion, she turns toward the Old Quay pub and goes for breakfast.
"You are going to the pub first?" Sarah asks.
"Never confront the Lord of Bats on an empty stomach." Leela mutters. Some of the crowd follow her, she doesn't object.
The front door to the pub is locked. It is heavy oak, banded with ironwork and solid. She crumbles stonework and stout doorframe driving her hands into either side of it. With a twist, she makes look effortless, pulls the entire door free and rests it against the wall.
"I am sorry, I can't pay for the door, or the damage to the room last night .. or for a breakfast for that matter, but I would eat, at your indulgence." She bowed slightly.
"You should have knocked, we were expecting you this evening. It isn't my inn, it belongs to the Master ... so this is all on his bill." The Inn Keeper says.
"Thank you." she says.
"Don't thank me, the Master has ordered that everyone is to give you whatever you need and direct you to his mansion on the headland."
"He is trying a different tactic than the one that failed last night when I mashed him and his brides into the walls of the room." Leela said.
"It appears so." The Inn Keeper replied. The Waitress appears from the kitchen with a huge plate of breakfast items. "In your room or at a table down here, miss?"
"My room is a little damaged." Leela points out.
"The Master has upgraded you to the Royal Suite." The Inn Keeper said.
"I bet there is a pretty gown for me to wear for the ball tonight in there ... something with a very plunging neckline?" Leela said.
"It was delivered just 20 minutes ago."
"This dump has a Royal Suite?" Leela laughed. The Inn Keeper joined her in laughter.
"It sounds more impressive than it is .." he said.
"No, no it doesn't ..." Leela sat down at a table and attacked the buttered toast with the excitement of a shark discovering a chumline.
"The Master is waiting for you, whenever you are ready to walk up to the mansion."
"Doesn't he sleep during the day?" Sarah asked. Leela repeated the question.
"I am not supposed to volunteer information," The Inn Keeper said.
"Yeah," she grinned "He isn't a big fan of that ... I noticed last night."
"Well, the Master and his ... lady 'companions' aren't like the lesser vampires. Sunlight won't kill them, they don't need to rest in the daytime, but you might find them less 'supernatural' during the daylight hours."
"My powers aren't effected by the day and night cycles." Leela said around a mouthful of hash browns.
"Yes, I think the whole village saw your display in the harbour." The Inn Keeper said.
"I knew that was a bad idea!" Sarah grumbled. "No advantage in surprise now."
"I have nothing to hide .. and very little to fear." Leela took the edge of the solid pine table and casually tore a handful of the wood into splinters. "One on four .. I defeated him and his fan club, and at night. During the daytime ..."
"He has a private werewolf army of killers and ninja zombie assassins." The Inn Keeper whispered.
"Fair enough .." Leela said.
"You didn't think it was gonna be that easy, did you?" The Inn Keeper asked.
"You know, for a second there, yeah, I kinda did." Leela replied.
"Well I can't be seen to be supporting you in anyway .. and neither can anyone else in the village. The reprisals if you fail would be stunningly evil and rather fatal."
Leela crossed to the large fireplace and contemplated the two huge crossed swords mounted above it. She reached up and took them both down. They weren't very sharp, but they were formidable.
"Is there a church in the village?" Leela asked.
"There is a ruined Church at the southern edge of the village. It has been burnt out, but you might find a drunken priest hiding somewhere near by. He might be a broken man, but he is still a priest." The Innkeeper whispered.
Leela finished eating and stood up. She crossed to the doorway, and turned back to address in the Inn Keeper in a loud voice.
"If you refuse to help me, or even tell me where things are in the village, I see no point in remaining here." The Innkeeper gave her a thin smile of thanks, then turned his back on her. She marched out of the Inn and began to randomly prowl the streets in a rough pattern that would take her south.
An hour later she had a pair of swords blessed by a reluctant priest and soaked in Holy Water. She made her way up ...
That was were I finished. I didn't even end the sentence. Leela was walking to a big confrontation, boldly walking through the village in her swimsuit.
Back in 1999 We are on the campsite enjoying the afternoon sunshine. Ryan is playing with dad down by the beach. Mum is flaked out with a book, and now softly enjoying the shady nap it has inspired. I've been crashed in my little tent writing and now I get the itch to test the fear. Sarah put the thought inside me with this morning's note. I undress and fold my clothes neatly. Is this another female mindset thing? I've never folded clothes in my life. Clothes are for crumbled floor storage. Now when I take off my clothes they get carefully sorted and neatly stored. Mmmm.
My original tights didn't survive the day, but I had bought a second pair. Still in their packet and untouched from the previous tuesday. I take them out and look at them. I am naked and shivering, but I don't think this is cold making me tremble. I am actually scared. This isn't going out dressed in layers of skirts, tops and boots. This is stripping myself down to two barely overlapped layers. I pull the tights on, wiggling my hips to get them high and snug over my groin. My penis and scrotum are squeezed up and barely seem to make the smallest of disturbance to the fabric. I am not in the slightest aroused today, which I thank the Female Divine who generates the cosmos. The swimsuit goes over the tights, pushing down things even more. From my perspective it looks like I have a smooth and feminine groin area.
Breasts are more of a problem. I am smooth chested and normally depend on a bra to help my two handfuls of socks do the business. Today the socks need to be sculpted like never before. Nothing I seem to do makes them perfect .. I suspect there is a limit to how accurately socks can mimic mother nature under these circumstances. I consider putting a teeshirt over the swimsuit, but that sort of defeats the exercise. Eventually I decide to just go with experiment number 458, modest little 'late developer' bumps. They are quite sweet and had I modelled them on my original meeting with Dave the thigh master, I'd probably not have had any trouble.
Pixie boots complete the look. I scooch out of the tent, avoiding damaging the knees of the tights, and stand tall in the afternoon sunshine. I accesorise with my white leather shoulder bag and for a bizarre moment wish Sarah had left me her leg warmers.
I begin to walk casually toward Secret View, a little outcropping of the cliffside I discovered during my first week here. Inside I am a bundle of nerves. I feel female, but my inner male seems to take this moment to begin talking to me. 'Your dick is actually quite large.' he suggests. 'Certainly much bigger than Sarah's little one."
"You can't see any bulge in my swimsuit." I say back to him. I'm still trying to take sneaky peaks at my reflection in caravan windows to see. Since I've decided to be female I'm taking more care with my hair. Rather than just the straggled mop of blonde mess that I normally brush back into a ponytail, I've been conditioning it and letting it fall into natural curls. It looks much more feminine and gives me confidence as well. While I should be trying to check if I have a visible 'package' it is much more fun to see my blonde locks flowing backward as I walk. 'No boy should have hair like this!' I tell my male side.
Some perversity in my nature takes my feet toward the Camp Shop. I find myself walking inside with a fantastic straw hat I've found on the rack of holiday essentials. It definately looks great on me and is so big and distracting that nobody is going to be looking at my little breasts. I can't help grabbing another Alias Comic from the rack that seems to have stopped being restocked since Sarah and Claire left. It is a different lady on the cash register today, but she doesn't glance twice at me as I pay.
Sunglasses, sunhat, swimsuit and pixie boots. What do I look like? It doesn't matter. I am loving myself and removing the fear with that love. It is all about me and right then and there I could have bumped into the Queen herself and felt total confidence. I almost want Dave the Thigh Master to appear, almost .. I would sweep past him like the amazing person I feel myself to be.
Secret View feels a little empty without Sarah and Claire to share the view with. I don't get disturbed by anyone else. After a little while I notice how irritating tights are to wear on warm days. I am about to shed my entire outfit and then redress without them, but the idea of having to spend at least an hour remodelling my bust puts me off.
I read a couple of chapters of The Mind Parasites and become freshly stunned by Colin Wilson's gift for words. I pull out my notebook and wonder about writing a little more about Leela's assault on the Big House and the Master. Should I do a big blockbuster style attack. I am still obsessed with the Washowski brother's move The Matrix and feel any decent story should end with some slow motion bullet festival. A ballet of death where the heroine blasts her solo way through an army of the dead and werewolves to battle the Master. I seem to have set it up for myself, but feel I've got lost along the way. I don't write action scenes and this just all seems predictable. I put my notebook away and walk down the hill to the camp site.
Afterword This section of my story features me discovering a couple of paperbacks that became quite precious to me and have followed me around from bookcase to bookcase whever I've lived. Like many young people who discover Colin Wilson in their teens he became a literary hero to me. In name checking him in this section of the story I resolved to try to email him to ask his permission if it was alright to do so. I was upset to discover he had passed away at the age of 82 in December last year (2013) in his (and my) beloved St Austell, Cornwall. I'd like to dedicate this entire work, poor as it is, to him, with respect and admiration for all the years of inspiration/pleasure and intrigue his writing has given me.