Friday, November 4, 2011

From vampires to silliness

In My Darcy Vibrates, my latest short story collection, I've a story about vampires, or I should say its descendants. I don't read vampire stories that much. When a reader asked me to write it, I turn the vampires to suckones, who have a certain urges. Here is an excerpt from the book:

Once upon a time, vampires roamed the streets and sucked the blood out of men and women. The two greatest clans of vampires came from Derbyshire and Kent.

Their thirst for blood turned into an unofficial contest. As a result, the human race was nearly wiped out by their rivalry until, one day, a temporary truce was reached. After that, the human population began to increase again, through mixed marriages with vampires and through cloning.

The bloodthirsty creatures were also castrated and cloned to become suckones. They no longer drank blood; instead, they nursed for pleasure, in the Annual Sucking Competition, when the electronic halo which suppressed their urges was released. Or, if they were lucky and found a partner upon whom they could feed their urges, they could wear the halo less frequently, thereby increasing their life expectancy.

Suckones sponsored less wealthy planets to provide partners for their competitors. Men and women participated in the week-long festival, and team members were tagged with bio-devices to monitor their pleasure levels. The couple who scored top marks would win and split the prize money.

“Commander Matlock, Spaceship Derbyshire will arrive on schedule at Planet Hertfordshire at 1800 hours,” Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam reported.

“Good! And the position of SK?” Commander Andrew Matlock inquired.

“Spaceship Kent is at 69x 88y 33z, Sir! About 0.05 light years away.”
“Wonderful! We’ll arrive ahead of SK and have the highly advantageous opportunity of choosing first.”

“Should I send the protocol signal to Hertfordshire now, Sir?”


However, after meeting teams from Goulding House, Purvis Lodge and Lucas Lodge, Matlock shook his head. He was in despair of finding the right partners for his team.

“The next one of decent size is Longbourn, Sir!” Richard announced, reading the data on his s-pad.

“Put the Commander of Longbourn on.”

After a few seconds, a middle-aged woman with handsome features appeared on the s-screen.

“You’re the Commander, madam?” Matlock was a bit unsure. She wore a rather silly uniform in red and pink, not at all like a commander with entrants for a serious competition.

“Indeed, Sir! I am Mrs. Bennet. My husband passed away, last year, and this will be the first time that Longbourn is participating in the Annual Sucking Competition. With generous funding from the suckones, I have been training my girls rigorously.”

Matlock’s eyes brightened. He had not anticipated finding such a gem in a backwater like Planet Hertfordshire. First-time team partners always incited his suckone clan to perform. “I have three competitors, this time. Colonel Fitzwilliam, my son, has fifteen years of experience. He specialises in toe indulgence. William Darcy, my nephew, is a first-time participant, and prefers to keep his specialty confidential. Charles Bingley has three years experience, and he specialises in lip worship.”

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