When Naminé was a good girl, she was a very good girl. The epitome of sweet, pure, innocence, the memory witchling sat obediently in her room and drew whatever she was told to, creating false memories in the Keybearer's mind. Clothed in the snow white dress Number XI had given her, blue eyes downcast and demure, feet still unable to touch the floor from her chair, Naminé was just a little innocent angel.
But when Naminé was a bad girl, she was a very bad girl. And tonight, she was tired of being good. Tonight, she wanted to play another of her little games.
Her dress rustled softly, the only sound to be heard in the silence of Castle Oblivion. The black-coated Nobodies who kept her here would all be asleep- or, in Number VI's case, reading in the library. Naminé smiled to herself as she moved through the austere halls, her white innocence slipping away with every step she took.
Soon enough, she reached the library, a place Number VI had practically begged the Superior to allow. Or so Number VIII told her, his poison green eyes alight with mocking laughter as he related tales of his 'comrades'. There was surely some fancy name for the book-filled room, but Naminé had never bothered to learn it.
After all, why should she? In the others' minds, the witchling was just an innocent, naïve doll that never left her room. They knew better, she was sure they did, even if the memories that would warn them hovered forever just outside of their reach…
Naminé crept inside the library, moving on silent feet and coming up behind her slate-haired prey. Number VI never heard her approach- never once suspected that the little blonde girl the neophytes kept locked away could ever be a threat. Which was exactly why he was so easily taken by surprise.
Number VI only noticed something was amiss when a slender rope snaked out of nowhere and looped itself around his chest, binding him to the chair he sat in. His instinctive response was to summon a Corridor of Darkness, and so he did, but he never got the chance to step in, for Naminé chose that exact moment to reveal herself to the Cloaked Schemer, smiling so innocently that he could not believe anything was wrong.
"Going somewhere?" she purred, and her voice was the clear sweet tone it always was as she stared at Number XI. Her eyes practically shone with innocence as she took one of his hands in hers. "Don't leave me, please," she begged, keeping all of his attention focused on her voice as she began to bind his hands to the chair he remained in. "I had a nightmare, and I can't find anyone else."
I had a bad dream… can I sleep in your bed tonight, Aeleus?
Her tiny hands rested on his chest, pushing him back into the chair as she stared into his eyes- eye, for she could only see one. Naminé fixed that problem by tucking the slate-coloured bangs back behind one of Number XII's ears and using a simple hair clip to make sure it stayed there. "You'll stay with me, won't you?" she asked sweetly, even as she began to pull down the zipper of his coat. "You'll stay with me, so I won't have to be afraid?"
Now, once you've got him so he can't move, shock him into submission… oh, wait, you can't do that, witchling. My bad.
Somehow, she managed to get his coat all the way off without ever removing the ropes she had used to bind him to the chair. Purring appreciatively at what she saw there, Naminé slipped her own white (the colour of purity, of innocence) dress off over her head, then removed her panties and breastband. The socks stayed on, though, white stockings in their white slippers. She climbed into Number VI's lap, cuddling up against him like a kitten and using a tiny pink tongue to lap at his chest. "You'll protect me from the monsters," she whispered to him.
Number VI moaned slightly, back arching into the chair he was tied to as small hands tangled themselves in his hair and soft lips met his own. That small pink tongue flicked inside his mouth, darting around, exploring every inch of the warm cavern. And then Naminé withdrew her mouth from his, lapping at the curve of his jaw instead, making soft appreciative noises as she did so. "You'll protect me from the nightmares," she murmured into his chest, moving her head down and taking one of his nipples into her mouth as her hands ghosted along his skin.
He shivered, wishing she would just get on with it already- he was really becoming uncomfortably hard, and her feather-light touches were only making things worse. Still, it was awfully hard to focus, right now. It was awfully hard to find the willpower to do anything more than let Naminé do just whatever she wanted…
Aeleus, what are you doing? S-stop it!
You were the one who wanted to share my bed.
Naminé giggled softly to herself, clapping her hands lightly in a display of delight before running her nails down Number VI's soft skin. She would not tire of teasing him for a while yet, but he was moaning under even the lightest of caresses and his erect cock was already leaking fluid. He would not last much longer, so the witchling should make the most of what time she had. "You'll protect me from the dark," she told him quietly.
She carefully positioned herself, lining his cock up just right with her entrance, then pushing down onto him. Number VI yelped- actually yelped- at the unexpected sensation, at the tight, warm heat. Naminé giggled to herself again, then began to move up and down on top of him, curling her tongue around his nipple and sucking on it as she wrapped her legs around him. His eyes were half-shut with pleasure as she ran her fingers along his chest. "You won't let me be afraid anymore," she breathed as he tensed within her.
Stroke them… yes, like that, until they beg for you to let them come, witchling. Make them beg for you, and you've won.
She would make Number VI beg, all right, make the haughty Schemer beg her for release. But not now, not tonight- there would be plenty of other nights for plenty of other games.
For now, she would keep things simple, and so she moved up and down again and again, whispering all the while into Number VI's soft, soft skin. "You won't let anything hurt me ever again," she told him, and because he had no other choice, because he could not understand what she was saying in this dreamlike haze, he agreed.
Or at least, he didn't not agree, and that was much the same to the little memory witchling who rode him. "You won't ever leave me, will you?" He gasped and writhed under expert caresses, his voice deftly wrested from him by a tiny pink tongue licking at his nipple and large blue eyes staring up at him so cutely.
Aeleus! Don't leave me alone!
I won't. Ever. I'll always be by your side.
A knot of heat tightened in his abdomen, and then a rush of pleasure swept through his body like a tidal wave. Number VI cried out wordlessly as he came deep within the little blonde witchling, who pressed herself up against him again. "You won't leave me alone?" He shook his head, not comprehending what exactly she asked of him and too shaken by the unexpected orgasm.
Satisfied with the results of tonight's experiments, Naminé climbed off of him, making a slight disapproving noise as she looked at her white stockings and delicate slippers (both of which were now spattered in Number VI's come). She pulled her white dress on, smiling sweetly at the other Nobody who was still bound to the chair.
Then Naminé pulled out a piece of paper and a crayon, added one last touch to the drawing of a slate-haired, black-coated man, and watched as Number VI completely fell apart. A surge of twisted memories battered at his mind, then abruptly receded, and he slumped over in the chair, eyes now as blank as his memory of this encounter.
Naminé giggled to herself again, then skipped back to her room, leaving the other Nobody naked and bound to a chair. That would certainly be interesting in the morning…