02-08-2004, 06:05 PM
Ok all I'm posting other things while beginning to cautiously write my first ever Digimon fic. Be gentle with me, but will gladly accept all comments and criticisim.
Without further ado, and just in time for Valentines.
For the Price of Chocolate
The moon has risen, and it is a full, orange harvest moon.
A moon that makes one think of sacrifices long past in the name of even longer forgotten pagan gods.
But the moon is not what attracts my attention this evening.
It is my appetite.
Of course I had dined earlier on a very rare and excellent cut of meat prepared most lovingly by Walter, but what had awoken me was the thought of something more nourishing than steak.
Retrieving my glasses from my bedside table , I got out of my cozy warm bed, so distracted was I by my quest that I donned neither robe nor slipper and headed for the pantry in the kitchen.
Thankfully I arrived neither molested or accosted by any subordinate, and Walter was nowhere to be seen.
To my task.
I know that he had thought of me when he picked up this particular item, so plain really, a simple square box containing a highly sugary repast.
Thank you, Walter, for finding this gem.
Thank you America for creating Pop Tarts.
So it is here that I sit, past the witching hour ,awaiting the toaster to finish it's task . So that I may indulge myself in the warm gooey goodness of Hot Fudge Sundae Pop Tarts.
Sadly their flavor was not of hot fudge, but of warm vanilla ooze and crumbly chocolate wafers.
Curse you Walter.
Ditto Pop Tarts for misleading the fudge deprived Integral Wingates Hellsing of her current craving.
I weep.
Perhaps there are undead subordinates about so that I may shoot them with wrath and distract myself from my current state.
I opt for searching the pantry more thoroughly, hoping against hope, and praying that a small jar of my liquid salvation has remained untouched by the hand of Ceres Victoria. Whom although is undead still clings to a few shreds of humanity, unlike my other servant Alucard.
I begin at the top.
Of course I must pull over a chair to peer into the murky depths of the top shelf, but all I find are carefully labeled bags of exotic herbs that must certainly grace my afternoon tea.
The next shelf is dedicated to jars of preserved fruits, jams, and a highly tangy yet sweet lemon curd of which Walter will never divulge the recipe no matter how kindly asked.
Shelf number three yields row upon row of canned vegetable of every shape and kind.
I really must commend Walter on keeping a most impressive pantry. I fear he may rival Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End.
I pause long enough to replace the chair to it's rightful spot, then continue my exploration.
This shelf is loaded with packets, boxes, and bags of various sizes. Brand names belie that Walter has help with his culinary prowess to produce his amazingly good meals. But I am hardly distressed.
After all, he takes care of me. The vampires in my employ. Watches out for the men, and still has time to grow and can, preserve, jelly, and store away fruits and vegetables. Plus create new and interesting weaponry on the side.
Yes I really must see about getting him a raise.
Or a vacation.
I have reached the final shelf, and my hope grows dim. For it is neatly packed with baggies and aluminum, waxed paper and the like.
My eyes stray to the bins beneath that no doubt contain root vegetables and onions. Then I notice that they are pulled forward a bit from the back wall.
My hope rekindled, I go to my knees in a postulant pose and duck my head back to look behind.
This is how he finds me.
Slightly dusty, hair disarrayed, and kneeling like a dog.
His presence is announced only but the click of his bootheels and a small throaty chuckle.
Damn it my cheeks are aflame from being caught in such an unladylike, compromising position.
Faintly I hear him speak.
"Is this what you are looking for my Master?" Amusement fills his steady voice and I know that he is ogling my backside clad as it is in men's pyjamas.
I turn slowly to face him, giving my cheeks a chance to lose their violent color. And as I raise slowly to my feet I notice that held aloft in his hand is the Grail that I seek, my highly coveted, much sought after jar of hot fudge.
As I discreetly tuck hair behind my ears in an attempt to control a few flyaway strands I notice that it is not only in his possession, but that it also has been opened and eaten from.
I quickly go to snatch it from him, and of course he holds it out of my grasp.
"I believe that thanks are in order milady, I did rescue this from the hands of my pet police girl. Of course I was sure to give her a lesson in the proper enjoyments of hot fudge sauce, I was even considerate to save enough for you." He eyes me lewdly for a moment then hands the jar over.
My mouth is a bit dry from my pantry foray, but I manage to croak a brief thank you before opening the container.
I look inside to ascertain the amount of heaven left, and that is when I notice that there are not spoon marks within but the telltale marks of finger scoopage.
My mind goes to short circuit, at first all I can think of is that the little trollop didn't even have the decency to use a spoon, then the gravity of Alucards statement hit me like a ton of bricks.
Lesson. Proper enjoyments of Hot Fudge Sauce. "I" saved enough for "you".
"I" saved.
"I".
He stands silently before me. I can almost feel him awaiting my reply. Hell, he's as giddy as a teenager on his first trip to the back seat of his fathers automobile.
I take the bait.
I eye him coolly for a moment.
Ice blue eyes meeting Blood Red.
It's funny really. His eyes are the same color of the dratted harvest moon outside.
I never noticed actually how nice his eyes compliment the darkness of his hair.
'I know my master, my hair color does compliment my eyes perfectly but that is not the subject right now. You still have not thanked me for liberating your precious hot fudge for you'.
His voice fills my head and I curse silently. He has been listening to my thoughts the entire time.
"Alucard, are you going to tell me why there are fingerprints in my hot fudge or do I have to drag Ceres into this as well?" I look at him unflinchingly and await his reply.
I continue. "Perhaps it would do to first and foremost tell me to whom the fingerprints belong to. You or your pet." He is wearing a smirk that makes me want to throttle him.
"Of course my Master. The fingerprints belong to me. Do you really want an explanation as to why they are there?" His look is one of pure amusement, he is enjoying this damn him.
I do not want to know why they are there, because I already know the reason. Why else would he take off his gloves other than to smear warm hot fudge onto the more than likely naked body of his...I will not think these thoughts. I will give him the partially eaten jar of sauce back. I will go back to my room. I will go to sleep.
"Will that be before or after you play with yourself? I think after more than likely." His gaze is maddening it feels as if he is looking right through me.
I no doubt look as if I want to kill him, never before has he been so frank about "that" with me.
It is not something we discuss. It is an unword.
I feel my cheeks growing hot again, and I'm beginning to lightly perspire. It feels as if the heaters are on full force in the house, yet I know that they are not by the fact that my feet are almost painfully cold at this point.
I cannot get the image of him, and Ceres and that damned little bottle out of my mind.
I come round to my senses as I realize that my feet are no longer touching the cold flagged stone of the kitchen floor, in fact I am cradled up into his arms like a small child. Like the child I was when I first met him.
"Alucard put me down this instant, I can more than well enough walk back to my room thank you." My voice is not as firm as it should be, in fact it belies the weakness I am feeling at this moment.
"Who said that I am taking you to your room Master?" He looks down at me and gives me that maddening grin of his. "I have decided that you will spend the night with me."
Of course. In the beginning there were a few times when I wandered to his room late at night, to talk of the success of the nights mission. How the men were doing in his opinion.Quite often I would find myself awaking the next day curled in his bed under plush coverlets, and feeling very protected.
"Alucard this is utter nonsense, I have not spent the night with you since I started puberty, it is not appropriate." The words die on my lips as I realize that I have no active choice in this matter, if I had only donned my robe. With the lovely Walther PPK in the pocket.
His room has not changed much since the last time I looked inside. Walls covered with archaic weaponry. Huge oak desk dominating the corner decorated only with a phone and a bucket of ice containing a packet of medical blood. Dominating the rest of the room is his bed.
When I was a little girl before I started to visit him I assumed he slept in a coffin with the soil of his homeland, when I asked Walter of his sleeping arrangements. Walter had only smiled slightly and assured me that they were more than adequate.
It is a monstrosity. I know he chose one of the larger dungeon rooms because of that bed. Heavy dark wood dominated by a huge feather mattress, silken sheets, fluffy pillows, and surrounding all four posters an elegant embroidered curtain depicting a virtual riot a black and red roses, that perfectly matched the color of his sheets and pillow casings. A bed fit for a king no doubt, or a seducer.
It is the bed where he deposits me, and as I settle in for a good nights sleep he goes about his ritual of laying aside his weapons, hanging up his hat and duster and suit until he is dressed only in black satin boxers. It is at this point that he crawls into bed beside me.
The silence is palpable, the air is tense with unspoken words. It seems that when I was younger I found my voice so easily with him and now it is like trying to wring blood from a turnip.
"Alucard did you really do what I think you did with that hot fudge?" My words seem so childish and inquisitive. I feel as if I am thirteen again and Walter is having to explain my certainly unexpected menses.
He rolls to face me. "And what exactly do you think I did Sir Integra? I'd like to hear it from you."
Cheeky bastard he's enjoying this, he's doing it on purpose.
"Did you really take it and use it as finger paint?" My cheeks are flaming again, I'm acting like the worlds biggest virgin.
'That's because you are.' His voice fills my head again. Damn him to hell.
"To tell the truth I was using it a body paint. You see Sir Integra, I enjoy hot fudge too. Just in a slightly more decadent way than you or Ceres do. Hot fudge has certain aesthetic properties when applied to the nipples, or other various parts of the anatomy."
I can only stare at him in rapt fascintation. Of course I knew that such things happen but I never thought that he would do such a thing.
'Such a thing as pleasure a lovely young acquaintance of mine?'
"Will you stop doing that! If you want to speak to me use that mouth that God gave you, not your unholy telepathy." It was his turn to looked shocked.
"That's very good my master, you are learning to control your outbursts rather admirably but you're beginning to sound a bit like Enrico or Anderson with your spouting about my telepathy being unholy. Perhaps the situation is worse than I thought, perhaps I have neglected this little discussion for far too long."
With that said he leaned over and kissed me. At first thought I wanted to bite him but that would produce too much blood and too much chance for infection. In fact so startled was I that I opened my mouth to protest and lightening quick his tongue lightly brushed mine.
After a few moments I realized that he was not cold and icky but slightly warm and that his mouth did in fact taste slightly of fudge. I was beginning to enjoy the kiss in fact, now that the thought that I wanted to kill him was past.
A minute later the kiss ended.
He stared at me, and I stared back at him.
Not a word was spoken.
Finally I broke the ice.
"You know what?" My eyes met his briefly and I looked away ashamed.
"What?" He whispered huskily.
"I just had my first kiss ever, from someone who wasn't a relative that is." I licked my lips lightly. "I really wanted to kill you badly too, but it wasn't half bad."
"It wasn't half bad? This is the reply I get from the twenty-five year old virgin who has no other basis for comparison than Aunt Matilda?"
A look of amazement crossed his face.
"Perhaps we could progress to the oral sex now? Hot fudge optional of course."
His eyes widened a bit at my statement. Perhaps I had managed to throw him a bit of a surprise, I'm sure that was the last thing he would ever expect to hear cross my lips. But in all actuality I was a bit curious to have some sort of sexual conduct with someone of the opposite sex just the same. Too many nights had I lain awake thinking of what it would be like to feel the rough caress of another's hands on my body, where before I had only felt my own soft smooth fingers. How often had I dreamed of warm breath in the hollow of my neck, or the feel of lips grazing my nipples.
Tonight all questions would be laid aside.
Tonight I would know.
I realized he was staring at me, no doubt hearing my thoughts again.
I blushed.
"My Master, do you how that blush makes my blood sing? It makes me want to ravish you."
I realized with some trepidation that he had moved closer as I woolgathered. The very air between us seemed almost electric, alive with forbidden feelings.
Almost as if in a dream he extended that long graceful arm of his and pushed me slowly back so that I was facing the canopy above us, then he was settling his weight evenly along my side. Rubbing sensuously along me, making my own blood sing.
His eyes met mine again. Blue and Crimson. After a long moment he spoke, and as he did I could feel the very power in his voice. Commanding, seducing.
"Have you come to me of your own free will?" His eyes are dark and heavy, and when he looks at me I feel as if the ages of the world press upon me. As if even though he must have done this with countless other maidens, that I am the first and only one that he has truly ever cared about enough to ask.
My breath feels trapped. It comes in short little pants as if a terrible weight presses upon me, I know that it is his very presence at work here. Try as I may I know that I have played to his hand, and that I will surrender even though it is the last thing I have sworn ever to do.
"You are a demon." I spit.
"Oh come now. One word from that oft vile little mouth of yours and Walter would have rescued you from my grasp. Admit it Integra. You have come to me as a bride to the wedding bed. We both know that tonight is ours. Hell it was ours from the moment you consented to let me bring you to my room, do you yield?" His face is calm. Serene almost. He knows that he has won.
All for the price of chocolate.
Slowly I acquiesce.
His eyes are filled with pleasure. Slowly he moves to kneel beside me.
I close my eyes, I am resigned to my fate.
He begins with light touches. My cheeks, my hair, my lips. Then he continues downward touching me through the fabric of my pyjamas. His fingers alight on nipples that are
quick to betray my feelings by hardening to tender buds that he is content to pinch and roll but only for a little while.
It is a queer sort of pain/pleasure that I am feeling. All too soon it is more than I can bear, and I am gasping for leniency.
"It is most amusing you know." He purrs. "To be begged to,when it is I usually doing the begging. I find this arrangement quite satisfying, perhaps it will continue for awhile."
I open my eyes to look at him, determined to keep my mouth shut.
"I can see that look in your eyes Lady Hellsing. The look that says that if I am to enjoy this that I must break you, bend you to my will. Are you prepared to live with the consequences of that action? Do you think that you are prepared for the rigors of becoming my new pet? "
Cold horror dawns on me as I weigh the gravity of his words.
"You wouldn't." I shriek as I scramble off the bed. "Proud Hellsing blood runs through my veins, I would never allow you to sully me with.."
Incomprehensibility fills me as I realize that I am no longer moving of my own free will, but am now pinned firmly to the cold dungeon wall. He looms before me holding my wrists in a viselike grip, displaying me a mock crucified pose. One long lean thigh worms its way between my legs pressing against my most tender spot, a spot that against all will is betraying me by swelling with arousal.
He lets out a long sigh, then looks at me with a new light dawning in his eyes. A light filled with a strange sort of vengeance.
"Yes I would my dear. We have gone too far this evening to go back now. If I were to let you flee to your room, to Walter, to freedom, before I knew it I would be returned to that horrid cell in which you found me. A cell that was my prison for even longer than the twenty years that you know of. A long time ago I vowed to myself to never be imprisoned by a Hellsing again." His words drip with contempt, they sting as if dipped with poison.
Deep within I know that he means every word.
Slowly his grip lessens and I am left standing to rub aching wrists.
He is looking at me. His eyes are searing my very flesh.
"I know that proud Hellsing blood runs through your veins. Too proud it seems at times. But have you not thought that if you were to allow me this small boon that my proud blood would also run through your veins as well? That you would forever be able to carry on the lifelong mission of your family's oath to protect her Majesty and the soil of England from the undead plague that corrupts it?"
He crosses to his bucket and packet of blood. I am left to ponder his words.
It is all so simple really.
If I were to continue my mission I would eventually have to produce an heir. That more than likely would mean marriage, and I at this late date had certainly not thought of such a trivial thing.
Who needed a husband and small child, when she had pet vampires and an army at her disposal?
What else does a woman really need?
I glance at my vampire. He's calmly sipping his blood. No doubt a bit of his bloodlust has passed and he's awaiting my next move.
Slowly my hand strays to the top button of my top. It pauses there unsure of weather it wants to do what I'm telling it to do, or if I want to try to run screaming from the lower levels as if the very demons of hell are on my heels.
I close my eyes. Think Integra, think!
There is warm breath at my ear.
"Do not deny me the privilege of undressing you milady. It is one that I have dreamed of for years."
Arms are lifting me and once again I am borne to that bed of corruption, where I am placed as if I am a Queen.
As he pushes me back once again he is murmuring words in his native tongue, and I am strangely comforted.
He begins with a kiss. A kiss that is so thoroughly demanding that I am caught in the sheer bliss of it. Never before had I been so pulled into a feeling of lust.
His hands are roaming my body, touching here patting there, until finally his long pale fingers come to rest upon the first button of my shirt. He only has it halfway undone when his lips are beginning to meet the flesh of my collarbones. That first button is soon followed by the rest and I am laying bare chested, open to his gaze, his lips, his tongue.
With little thought to propriety I feel myself growing wet at his ministrations and soon I am moaning.
His teeth lightly graze hardened nipples, followed by a lap of slightly rough tongue and a delicious kneading of my breasts. All too soon his attention is diverted and he is moving lower. To lightly kiss his way down my flat belly, lovingly lave my belly button, then grasp my pyjama bottoms with his teeth.
I lift my hips to ease in their removal, and I am nude except for virgin white panties. Panties that are soon gone, so that they may not hinder my nakedness.
I am laid bare for his scrutiny. He looks at me lovingly perhaps, and soon he is touching me again. In places where no other but I have touched.
He seems delighted by the fact that I am shaved, and wastes no time in starting to explore the hidden folds of my femininity. I feel myself flowering to his touch, which is not rough and halting but deliciously smooth and fluid.
I close my eyes again for his attention is becoming a bit overwhelming. Feelings are building and I wish only to be lost in the ebb and flow of this somewhat familiar yet strange tide that I am feeling.
It is a shock when I feel his tongue touch me again, for this time it is in a lower and infinitely more personal place. I call out his name and my hips buck of their own accord at this new and profound sensation, but he is quick to hold my legs still as he takes his time in exploring the very core of my being.
All too soon I am spent, and I lay gasping and weeping at the sheer enormity of what has just happened.
Alucard is smiling at me, as he slides firmly between my legs.
Our kiss resumes as he bumps into my tender flesh with something that is engorged and rigid. His lips grace my cheek and move once again to my collarbone where tiny careful kisses are placed, as his hand moves between us to grasp his manhood and slide it along my slick folds to gather as much moisture as possible.
He has found his mark and I feel him poised there awaiting entry,as once again his fingers find my engorged bud and resume their loving caress. I feel myself climbing to a quick release, and even as I once again reach my pinnacle and call his name I feel the prick of his teeth at my neck and the pain of his entry and the feelings are all too much until I am crossing the realm of passion into oblivion with the taste of his blood on my lips.
Time passes.
The world outside my home grew faint with the light of dawn.
The day passed, until the early evening stars dotted the sky.
This is when I awoke.
He was staring at me as usual, a faint quiet quirk of a smile on his lips.
"You know, I should shoot you for doing what you did." My tone tries to be stern but somehow my heart is no longer in it.
"I suppose you'll be wanting that demonstration of the wonderful uses of hot fudge at a later time." Never before have I seen his twinkle.
"I think it will have to wait. The evening shadows are already long and Wlater is awaiting my arrival to my office. But yes, perhaps another time."
As I rose to dress I noticed the bloodstains upon his sheets.
"Thank you, Alucard."
He looked a bit surprised for a moment. "For what?"
Silence hung in the air between us once again, as I sought frantically for the right words.
"For saving my jar of hot fudge. Now get dressed we have work to attend to."
He was silent for a moment and as I closed his door fully preparing myself for the inquisition that Walter was sure to subject me to, I faintly heard his reply.
"Yes,My Master."
~fini~
Without further ado, and just in time for Valentines.
For the Price of Chocolate
The moon has risen, and it is a full, orange harvest moon.
A moon that makes one think of sacrifices long past in the name of even longer forgotten pagan gods.
But the moon is not what attracts my attention this evening.
It is my appetite.
Of course I had dined earlier on a very rare and excellent cut of meat prepared most lovingly by Walter, but what had awoken me was the thought of something more nourishing than steak.
Retrieving my glasses from my bedside table , I got out of my cozy warm bed, so distracted was I by my quest that I donned neither robe nor slipper and headed for the pantry in the kitchen.
Thankfully I arrived neither molested or accosted by any subordinate, and Walter was nowhere to be seen.
To my task.
I know that he had thought of me when he picked up this particular item, so plain really, a simple square box containing a highly sugary repast.
Thank you, Walter, for finding this gem.
Thank you America for creating Pop Tarts.
So it is here that I sit, past the witching hour ,awaiting the toaster to finish it's task . So that I may indulge myself in the warm gooey goodness of Hot Fudge Sundae Pop Tarts.
Sadly their flavor was not of hot fudge, but of warm vanilla ooze and crumbly chocolate wafers.
Curse you Walter.
Ditto Pop Tarts for misleading the fudge deprived Integral Wingates Hellsing of her current craving.
I weep.
Perhaps there are undead subordinates about so that I may shoot them with wrath and distract myself from my current state.
I opt for searching the pantry more thoroughly, hoping against hope, and praying that a small jar of my liquid salvation has remained untouched by the hand of Ceres Victoria. Whom although is undead still clings to a few shreds of humanity, unlike my other servant Alucard.
I begin at the top.
Of course I must pull over a chair to peer into the murky depths of the top shelf, but all I find are carefully labeled bags of exotic herbs that must certainly grace my afternoon tea.
The next shelf is dedicated to jars of preserved fruits, jams, and a highly tangy yet sweet lemon curd of which Walter will never divulge the recipe no matter how kindly asked.
Shelf number three yields row upon row of canned vegetable of every shape and kind.
I really must commend Walter on keeping a most impressive pantry. I fear he may rival Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End.
I pause long enough to replace the chair to it's rightful spot, then continue my exploration.
This shelf is loaded with packets, boxes, and bags of various sizes. Brand names belie that Walter has help with his culinary prowess to produce his amazingly good meals. But I am hardly distressed.
After all, he takes care of me. The vampires in my employ. Watches out for the men, and still has time to grow and can, preserve, jelly, and store away fruits and vegetables. Plus create new and interesting weaponry on the side.
Yes I really must see about getting him a raise.
Or a vacation.
I have reached the final shelf, and my hope grows dim. For it is neatly packed with baggies and aluminum, waxed paper and the like.
My eyes stray to the bins beneath that no doubt contain root vegetables and onions. Then I notice that they are pulled forward a bit from the back wall.
My hope rekindled, I go to my knees in a postulant pose and duck my head back to look behind.
This is how he finds me.
Slightly dusty, hair disarrayed, and kneeling like a dog.
His presence is announced only but the click of his bootheels and a small throaty chuckle.
Damn it my cheeks are aflame from being caught in such an unladylike, compromising position.
Faintly I hear him speak.
"Is this what you are looking for my Master?" Amusement fills his steady voice and I know that he is ogling my backside clad as it is in men's pyjamas.
I turn slowly to face him, giving my cheeks a chance to lose their violent color. And as I raise slowly to my feet I notice that held aloft in his hand is the Grail that I seek, my highly coveted, much sought after jar of hot fudge.
As I discreetly tuck hair behind my ears in an attempt to control a few flyaway strands I notice that it is not only in his possession, but that it also has been opened and eaten from.
I quickly go to snatch it from him, and of course he holds it out of my grasp.
"I believe that thanks are in order milady, I did rescue this from the hands of my pet police girl. Of course I was sure to give her a lesson in the proper enjoyments of hot fudge sauce, I was even considerate to save enough for you." He eyes me lewdly for a moment then hands the jar over.
My mouth is a bit dry from my pantry foray, but I manage to croak a brief thank you before opening the container.
I look inside to ascertain the amount of heaven left, and that is when I notice that there are not spoon marks within but the telltale marks of finger scoopage.
My mind goes to short circuit, at first all I can think of is that the little trollop didn't even have the decency to use a spoon, then the gravity of Alucards statement hit me like a ton of bricks.
Lesson. Proper enjoyments of Hot Fudge Sauce. "I" saved enough for "you".
"I" saved.
"I".
He stands silently before me. I can almost feel him awaiting my reply. Hell, he's as giddy as a teenager on his first trip to the back seat of his fathers automobile.
I take the bait.
I eye him coolly for a moment.
Ice blue eyes meeting Blood Red.
It's funny really. His eyes are the same color of the dratted harvest moon outside.
I never noticed actually how nice his eyes compliment the darkness of his hair.
'I know my master, my hair color does compliment my eyes perfectly but that is not the subject right now. You still have not thanked me for liberating your precious hot fudge for you'.
His voice fills my head and I curse silently. He has been listening to my thoughts the entire time.
"Alucard, are you going to tell me why there are fingerprints in my hot fudge or do I have to drag Ceres into this as well?" I look at him unflinchingly and await his reply.
I continue. "Perhaps it would do to first and foremost tell me to whom the fingerprints belong to. You or your pet." He is wearing a smirk that makes me want to throttle him.
"Of course my Master. The fingerprints belong to me. Do you really want an explanation as to why they are there?" His look is one of pure amusement, he is enjoying this damn him.
I do not want to know why they are there, because I already know the reason. Why else would he take off his gloves other than to smear warm hot fudge onto the more than likely naked body of his...I will not think these thoughts. I will give him the partially eaten jar of sauce back. I will go back to my room. I will go to sleep.
"Will that be before or after you play with yourself? I think after more than likely." His gaze is maddening it feels as if he is looking right through me.
I no doubt look as if I want to kill him, never before has he been so frank about "that" with me.
It is not something we discuss. It is an unword.
I feel my cheeks growing hot again, and I'm beginning to lightly perspire. It feels as if the heaters are on full force in the house, yet I know that they are not by the fact that my feet are almost painfully cold at this point.
I cannot get the image of him, and Ceres and that damned little bottle out of my mind.
I come round to my senses as I realize that my feet are no longer touching the cold flagged stone of the kitchen floor, in fact I am cradled up into his arms like a small child. Like the child I was when I first met him.
"Alucard put me down this instant, I can more than well enough walk back to my room thank you." My voice is not as firm as it should be, in fact it belies the weakness I am feeling at this moment.
"Who said that I am taking you to your room Master?" He looks down at me and gives me that maddening grin of his. "I have decided that you will spend the night with me."
Of course. In the beginning there were a few times when I wandered to his room late at night, to talk of the success of the nights mission. How the men were doing in his opinion.Quite often I would find myself awaking the next day curled in his bed under plush coverlets, and feeling very protected.
"Alucard this is utter nonsense, I have not spent the night with you since I started puberty, it is not appropriate." The words die on my lips as I realize that I have no active choice in this matter, if I had only donned my robe. With the lovely Walther PPK in the pocket.
His room has not changed much since the last time I looked inside. Walls covered with archaic weaponry. Huge oak desk dominating the corner decorated only with a phone and a bucket of ice containing a packet of medical blood. Dominating the rest of the room is his bed.
When I was a little girl before I started to visit him I assumed he slept in a coffin with the soil of his homeland, when I asked Walter of his sleeping arrangements. Walter had only smiled slightly and assured me that they were more than adequate.
It is a monstrosity. I know he chose one of the larger dungeon rooms because of that bed. Heavy dark wood dominated by a huge feather mattress, silken sheets, fluffy pillows, and surrounding all four posters an elegant embroidered curtain depicting a virtual riot a black and red roses, that perfectly matched the color of his sheets and pillow casings. A bed fit for a king no doubt, or a seducer.
It is the bed where he deposits me, and as I settle in for a good nights sleep he goes about his ritual of laying aside his weapons, hanging up his hat and duster and suit until he is dressed only in black satin boxers. It is at this point that he crawls into bed beside me.
The silence is palpable, the air is tense with unspoken words. It seems that when I was younger I found my voice so easily with him and now it is like trying to wring blood from a turnip.
"Alucard did you really do what I think you did with that hot fudge?" My words seem so childish and inquisitive. I feel as if I am thirteen again and Walter is having to explain my certainly unexpected menses.
He rolls to face me. "And what exactly do you think I did Sir Integra? I'd like to hear it from you."
Cheeky bastard he's enjoying this, he's doing it on purpose.
"Did you really take it and use it as finger paint?" My cheeks are flaming again, I'm acting like the worlds biggest virgin.
'That's because you are.' His voice fills my head again. Damn him to hell.
"To tell the truth I was using it a body paint. You see Sir Integra, I enjoy hot fudge too. Just in a slightly more decadent way than you or Ceres do. Hot fudge has certain aesthetic properties when applied to the nipples, or other various parts of the anatomy."
I can only stare at him in rapt fascintation. Of course I knew that such things happen but I never thought that he would do such a thing.
'Such a thing as pleasure a lovely young acquaintance of mine?'
"Will you stop doing that! If you want to speak to me use that mouth that God gave you, not your unholy telepathy." It was his turn to looked shocked.
"That's very good my master, you are learning to control your outbursts rather admirably but you're beginning to sound a bit like Enrico or Anderson with your spouting about my telepathy being unholy. Perhaps the situation is worse than I thought, perhaps I have neglected this little discussion for far too long."
With that said he leaned over and kissed me. At first thought I wanted to bite him but that would produce too much blood and too much chance for infection. In fact so startled was I that I opened my mouth to protest and lightening quick his tongue lightly brushed mine.
After a few moments I realized that he was not cold and icky but slightly warm and that his mouth did in fact taste slightly of fudge. I was beginning to enjoy the kiss in fact, now that the thought that I wanted to kill him was past.
A minute later the kiss ended.
He stared at me, and I stared back at him.
Not a word was spoken.
Finally I broke the ice.
"You know what?" My eyes met his briefly and I looked away ashamed.
"What?" He whispered huskily.
"I just had my first kiss ever, from someone who wasn't a relative that is." I licked my lips lightly. "I really wanted to kill you badly too, but it wasn't half bad."
"It wasn't half bad? This is the reply I get from the twenty-five year old virgin who has no other basis for comparison than Aunt Matilda?"
A look of amazement crossed his face.
"Perhaps we could progress to the oral sex now? Hot fudge optional of course."
His eyes widened a bit at my statement. Perhaps I had managed to throw him a bit of a surprise, I'm sure that was the last thing he would ever expect to hear cross my lips. But in all actuality I was a bit curious to have some sort of sexual conduct with someone of the opposite sex just the same. Too many nights had I lain awake thinking of what it would be like to feel the rough caress of another's hands on my body, where before I had only felt my own soft smooth fingers. How often had I dreamed of warm breath in the hollow of my neck, or the feel of lips grazing my nipples.
Tonight all questions would be laid aside.
Tonight I would know.
I realized he was staring at me, no doubt hearing my thoughts again.
I blushed.
"My Master, do you how that blush makes my blood sing? It makes me want to ravish you."
I realized with some trepidation that he had moved closer as I woolgathered. The very air between us seemed almost electric, alive with forbidden feelings.
Almost as if in a dream he extended that long graceful arm of his and pushed me slowly back so that I was facing the canopy above us, then he was settling his weight evenly along my side. Rubbing sensuously along me, making my own blood sing.
His eyes met mine again. Blue and Crimson. After a long moment he spoke, and as he did I could feel the very power in his voice. Commanding, seducing.
"Have you come to me of your own free will?" His eyes are dark and heavy, and when he looks at me I feel as if the ages of the world press upon me. As if even though he must have done this with countless other maidens, that I am the first and only one that he has truly ever cared about enough to ask.
My breath feels trapped. It comes in short little pants as if a terrible weight presses upon me, I know that it is his very presence at work here. Try as I may I know that I have played to his hand, and that I will surrender even though it is the last thing I have sworn ever to do.
"You are a demon." I spit.
"Oh come now. One word from that oft vile little mouth of yours and Walter would have rescued you from my grasp. Admit it Integra. You have come to me as a bride to the wedding bed. We both know that tonight is ours. Hell it was ours from the moment you consented to let me bring you to my room, do you yield?" His face is calm. Serene almost. He knows that he has won.
All for the price of chocolate.
Slowly I acquiesce.
His eyes are filled with pleasure. Slowly he moves to kneel beside me.
I close my eyes, I am resigned to my fate.
He begins with light touches. My cheeks, my hair, my lips. Then he continues downward touching me through the fabric of my pyjamas. His fingers alight on nipples that are
quick to betray my feelings by hardening to tender buds that he is content to pinch and roll but only for a little while.
It is a queer sort of pain/pleasure that I am feeling. All too soon it is more than I can bear, and I am gasping for leniency.
"It is most amusing you know." He purrs. "To be begged to,when it is I usually doing the begging. I find this arrangement quite satisfying, perhaps it will continue for awhile."
I open my eyes to look at him, determined to keep my mouth shut.
"I can see that look in your eyes Lady Hellsing. The look that says that if I am to enjoy this that I must break you, bend you to my will. Are you prepared to live with the consequences of that action? Do you think that you are prepared for the rigors of becoming my new pet? "
Cold horror dawns on me as I weigh the gravity of his words.
"You wouldn't." I shriek as I scramble off the bed. "Proud Hellsing blood runs through my veins, I would never allow you to sully me with.."
Incomprehensibility fills me as I realize that I am no longer moving of my own free will, but am now pinned firmly to the cold dungeon wall. He looms before me holding my wrists in a viselike grip, displaying me a mock crucified pose. One long lean thigh worms its way between my legs pressing against my most tender spot, a spot that against all will is betraying me by swelling with arousal.
He lets out a long sigh, then looks at me with a new light dawning in his eyes. A light filled with a strange sort of vengeance.
"Yes I would my dear. We have gone too far this evening to go back now. If I were to let you flee to your room, to Walter, to freedom, before I knew it I would be returned to that horrid cell in which you found me. A cell that was my prison for even longer than the twenty years that you know of. A long time ago I vowed to myself to never be imprisoned by a Hellsing again." His words drip with contempt, they sting as if dipped with poison.
Deep within I know that he means every word.
Slowly his grip lessens and I am left standing to rub aching wrists.
He is looking at me. His eyes are searing my very flesh.
"I know that proud Hellsing blood runs through your veins. Too proud it seems at times. But have you not thought that if you were to allow me this small boon that my proud blood would also run through your veins as well? That you would forever be able to carry on the lifelong mission of your family's oath to protect her Majesty and the soil of England from the undead plague that corrupts it?"
He crosses to his bucket and packet of blood. I am left to ponder his words.
It is all so simple really.
If I were to continue my mission I would eventually have to produce an heir. That more than likely would mean marriage, and I at this late date had certainly not thought of such a trivial thing.
Who needed a husband and small child, when she had pet vampires and an army at her disposal?
What else does a woman really need?
I glance at my vampire. He's calmly sipping his blood. No doubt a bit of his bloodlust has passed and he's awaiting my next move.
Slowly my hand strays to the top button of my top. It pauses there unsure of weather it wants to do what I'm telling it to do, or if I want to try to run screaming from the lower levels as if the very demons of hell are on my heels.
I close my eyes. Think Integra, think!
There is warm breath at my ear.
"Do not deny me the privilege of undressing you milady. It is one that I have dreamed of for years."
Arms are lifting me and once again I am borne to that bed of corruption, where I am placed as if I am a Queen.
As he pushes me back once again he is murmuring words in his native tongue, and I am strangely comforted.
He begins with a kiss. A kiss that is so thoroughly demanding that I am caught in the sheer bliss of it. Never before had I been so pulled into a feeling of lust.
His hands are roaming my body, touching here patting there, until finally his long pale fingers come to rest upon the first button of my shirt. He only has it halfway undone when his lips are beginning to meet the flesh of my collarbones. That first button is soon followed by the rest and I am laying bare chested, open to his gaze, his lips, his tongue.
With little thought to propriety I feel myself growing wet at his ministrations and soon I am moaning.
His teeth lightly graze hardened nipples, followed by a lap of slightly rough tongue and a delicious kneading of my breasts. All too soon his attention is diverted and he is moving lower. To lightly kiss his way down my flat belly, lovingly lave my belly button, then grasp my pyjama bottoms with his teeth.
I lift my hips to ease in their removal, and I am nude except for virgin white panties. Panties that are soon gone, so that they may not hinder my nakedness.
I am laid bare for his scrutiny. He looks at me lovingly perhaps, and soon he is touching me again. In places where no other but I have touched.
He seems delighted by the fact that I am shaved, and wastes no time in starting to explore the hidden folds of my femininity. I feel myself flowering to his touch, which is not rough and halting but deliciously smooth and fluid.
I close my eyes again for his attention is becoming a bit overwhelming. Feelings are building and I wish only to be lost in the ebb and flow of this somewhat familiar yet strange tide that I am feeling.
It is a shock when I feel his tongue touch me again, for this time it is in a lower and infinitely more personal place. I call out his name and my hips buck of their own accord at this new and profound sensation, but he is quick to hold my legs still as he takes his time in exploring the very core of my being.
All too soon I am spent, and I lay gasping and weeping at the sheer enormity of what has just happened.
Alucard is smiling at me, as he slides firmly between my legs.
Our kiss resumes as he bumps into my tender flesh with something that is engorged and rigid. His lips grace my cheek and move once again to my collarbone where tiny careful kisses are placed, as his hand moves between us to grasp his manhood and slide it along my slick folds to gather as much moisture as possible.
He has found his mark and I feel him poised there awaiting entry,as once again his fingers find my engorged bud and resume their loving caress. I feel myself climbing to a quick release, and even as I once again reach my pinnacle and call his name I feel the prick of his teeth at my neck and the pain of his entry and the feelings are all too much until I am crossing the realm of passion into oblivion with the taste of his blood on my lips.
Time passes.
The world outside my home grew faint with the light of dawn.
The day passed, until the early evening stars dotted the sky.
This is when I awoke.
He was staring at me as usual, a faint quiet quirk of a smile on his lips.
"You know, I should shoot you for doing what you did." My tone tries to be stern but somehow my heart is no longer in it.
"I suppose you'll be wanting that demonstration of the wonderful uses of hot fudge at a later time." Never before have I seen his twinkle.
"I think it will have to wait. The evening shadows are already long and Wlater is awaiting my arrival to my office. But yes, perhaps another time."
As I rose to dress I noticed the bloodstains upon his sheets.
"Thank you, Alucard."
He looked a bit surprised for a moment. "For what?"
Silence hung in the air between us once again, as I sought frantically for the right words.
"For saving my jar of hot fudge. Now get dressed we have work to attend to."
He was silent for a moment and as I closed his door fully preparing myself for the inquisition that Walter was sure to subject me to, I faintly heard his reply.
"Yes,My Master."
~fini~