Luring the Guardian Angel

In the darkness I felt my stomach contracting, and the bile rising into my mouth as I prepared to give oral sex to a man for the first time. A man I hardly knew, and didn't really like. I hadn't pictured my first time being like this. I'd imagined mutual attraction, deep affection and sexiness. I'd been reading stories about lust so strong that people literally want to rip one another's clothes off and make love. So I had a pretty good idea of what feelings sexual activity should provoke in someone. And I had, after all, experienced some of those feelings of arousal with Harry, though we hadn't got to the stage where we'd acted on it. And now we never would.

 

But with Tim there was nothing. Except disgust. I felt like a prostitute until I reminded myself why I was doing it. Why I was kneeling on the dirty ground between a relative strangers knees. I prayed for anything to get me out of the situation, even for my Guardian Angel to show up. Just for something to get me out of doing the deed. I must have delayed for too long because suddenly I felt Tim's hands on the back on my head, forcing me down onto his penis.

 

My instincts kicked in. As I was feeling threatened, my canine teeth instantly withdrew from their dormant state, slashing the skin and tissue of Tim's erection. He screamed and jumped up off the bench, blood gushing everywhere. He looked down in horror, and then at me. He screamed again, seeing my mouth and face smothered in blood, my white teeth protruding. He stood, paralysed by fear, unable to take his eyes from my face, or more specifically, my mouth. I believe he thought I was going to kill him.

 

I advanced towards him, and he scrambled awkwardly – jeans still around his ankles – away from me and behind the bench. Oh yes, I thought, that will protect you. Fucking idiot.

 

He began to whimper like an injured dog. Surprised nobody had heard the commotion already, I knew I had to shut him up one way or another, because people had probably seen us leaving together. And the last thing I wanted was to draw attention to myself. Human attention, anyway.

 

I leapt over the bench easily, landing beside him. He drew his arms up over his face and I heard him –

 

"Please, no. Don't kill me. I'll do anything you want. Just don't kill me."

 

As I lowered my already bloodstained mouth to Tim's throat; I heard him. Laughing at me. Hysterically.

 

Thea, did you really think it was going to be that easy? I know exactly where you are, whenever I need to. You didn't "summon" me the first time, did you? This boy was never a threat, just someone you picked up off the street. And to think you were going to pleasure him, for nothing. I'd say you had a lucky escape. Just a shame he didn't…

 

I tried my best to ignore him as I drank Tim's blood, wiping his memory clean at the same time. I had to be careful, he'd already lost a lot of blood, if I took too much he could die anyway. And I didn't want that on my conscience. I had enough to think about already. What the hell was I going to do now? The Guardian Angel seemed to be thwarting me at every turn, messing everything up, and then laughing at me.

 

And they say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Well, right then, that's all I was emanating: fury. I certainly wasn't getting revenge. Standing in a back street, supporting the weight of an innocent man as I modified his memory, I was pathetic. An embarrassment to my race and sex.

 

I also had no idea what story to plant into poor Tim's memory to explain a sliced and bloody cock. I used the first thing that came into my head – a girl had been giving him a blow job when she sneezed and accidentally bit him. Then she freaked out and ran off. It would have to do. I depended on the fact that he'd been drinking beforehand to make him gloss over the incident in his mind.

 

I covered Tim's modesty and left him lying unconscious on the bench. We hadn't been too far from the club, so I knew later on someone would find and help him. I headed home quickly, hoping nobody would see me in these bloodstained clothes, with blood all round my mouth. They'd think I was a vampire or something.

 

Later that evening, I lay in bed and thought of Harry. If something like that had happened with him; if we gotten that far and he'd pushed my head down onto his cock – would the same thing have occurred? I'd never experienced anything like it before – as usually when I felt threatened, it was for a good reason, therefore my instincts were correct. But an inebriated young man after some sexy fun was no threat to me. I could have murdered him in less than a minute without breaking a sweat. So what was going on? What had made me feel scared enough to prepare to fight?