Natalie in the Vampire’s Den

It had been a hell of a day for Natalie. Ambushed in her own home, she had been taken by a rather ruthless duo of men, then suddenly found herself bound and gagged with a sack over her head. Several hours spent on the floor of a speeding van later had her thrust upon an ornate stone floor with the sack ripped from her head. As she started to push herself up off of the floor, she looked around. It was an odd place, architecturally elegant. After a moment, it became clear that it was a throne room of sorts, and she was not alone.

Standing a dozen feet behind her, dozens of men and women lined the room, their eyes firmly rooted upon her form. None spoke, none moved. They simply watched her vigilantly. As her gaze traveled, she spied the large throne ahead of her, upon which sat a surprisingly young looking woman. Her skin was fair, too fair. Her hair was long and white, and as she rose from the chair, she had an air of confidence about her, the kind that could only be born from years of experience.

The woman stood for a moment, entirely silent as she looked over the woman upon the flooring, then nodded, once. Immediately, two of the men set upon her, starting to pull at her clothing. Natalie fought back as best she could clocking one of them in the head hard enough to send him sprawling, but the other one clubbed her over the head and blackness ensued.

When she awoke, it had only been a few short minutes, but she had been stripped down entirely, and was on her back with the queen standing a few feet away.