Integra's Fantasy Part III

---

You just killed an innocent person, and I want to fuck you.

I'm tied up by you, my hands bound together by your scarlet red cravat, and you lead me across the store like a dog, whispering sexy things to me in your beautiful voice. Every few minutes, as I start to emerge from the cloud of sexual arousal, you start to tell me how you're going to make me cum soon, and how you aren't going to let me stop cumming, and how you're going to be the custodian of my sex from now on, and how I have an easy life of pleasure to look forward to, with you 'administering' orgasms to me every night--whether I want it or not.

Even in my sexual fog, that sounds like rape. You, apparently, have your own perspective:

"It's for your own well-being," you tell me reassuringly, stroking my back with one hand, guiding me by your red silken leash with the other. "There will be no awkward back-seat fondling for you, my master. I will not tolerate the groping hands of lowly teenage boys or lecherous men, trying to force you to facilitate their base desires as you navigate the twisted and dangerous path of sexual exploration. I will not allow you to feel ashamed or taken advantage of. And most importantly, I will not let your virginity be spoiled."

I feel both like a princess and a slave. I'm being led by a leash. I'm terrified, and anxious, and impatient. I want to give myself to you. I'm ready to completely surrender to your evil schemes. I guess its not possible for me to be raped by you—I'm ready to beg you to fuck me on the floor, right here, right now.

"Hush," you tell me, pausing to kiss my neck. It electrifies my skin. "You're body is at fever pitch. Maybe I waited too long to initiate this intimacy. You're wound so tight, I suspect maybe you were ready for this arrangement months ago. But I thought you were still too young. I should have been more responsive to your frequent masturbation habits. Obviously, you're so aroused; you're going to orgasm from just the sound of my voice."

"I like your voice," is the only response I can muster—timid, whispered.

You chuckle softly. "Thank you, master." You kiss my neck again, parting your lips and letting the cold, wet tip of your vampire tongue trace my collarbone. "Its time. Are you ready to accept me as the guardian of your chastity? Do you promise to give yourself to me and obey me, and put your trust entirely in me to decide what's best for you and your sensitive little body?"

I look up at you with glassy eyes. "Alucard? Are you using your mind control powers to make me feel like this?"

You sound amused; "No, of course not, master."

I struggle to remain focused. "I'm….I'm not happy you killed the clerk. I feel like I should be….more…not happy…than I am. I feel like I should be really….mad. Really mad. But….your voice is distracting me. You used your voice to hypnotize the clerk. How do I know you're not using those same powers to manipulate me?"

You smile, rows of gleaming teeth and fangs catching sinisterly in the dim, electric light of the porn shop. "Am I manipulating you? Oh yes." You lightly place your index finger on my throat and drag it slowly down my neck, sliding it between my heaving breasts, down my sternum and my belly, then over the rise of my hip and finally resting on my upper thigh. "But I don't need any supernatural powers to bend you to my will." That finger creeps under the hem of my skirt and starts tracing up the inside of my bare leg, to the hollow of my thigh, to my panty-covered sex.

You lean very close and place your mouth against my ear and whisper: "Integra. My master: You're a slut. You want this. You want to get used like a cheap fuck toy. But don't be afraid; I promise I'll use you. And when I'm done using you, you won't just be a whore. You'll be a vampire's whore. The Director of the Hellsing Organization—a vampire's cheap whore. " You kiss my ear. "And if you're a good, obedient little girl, I won't tell anyone what a fucking nasty slut you are."

I almost faint, but you catch me.

"It's okay, it's okay," you whisper gently. "Hush my master. Don't cry. Shhhh."

It takes me a moment to realize I am crying. I've collapsed into your arms and I'm sobbing silently.

"Hush my little master. Everything's okay. See? Look."

I look up and see your finger presented to me. I look at it in confusion. It's wet. The fabric of your gloves is soaked, the pink flesh of your digit peaking through. "I don't understand."

"It's the fluids that leaked out of your body while I was talking dirty to you. Look how much it pleased you to be spoken to in such a demeaning, hostile way. Would you trust a stranger to speak to you like that? No, you can only trust me to say such harsh things. My master is my queen." You kiss my tear covered face. "I think you're ready. Would you like me to make you cum now?"

Wiping the tears from my eyes, I nod.

"My master. I'll make you cum now. Follow me." You lead me to the back of the store where there's a big, heavy-looking black door I mistakenly thought was an exit. On the door, it reads "Arcade." You open the door, and there's blackness on the other side, and tinny sounds of digital recordings of some sort.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Video booths," you tell me, ushering me inside. As my eye adjust to the darkness, I see we're in a long, narrow corridor with booths on either side with little black curtains for privacy. "You come in here to watch pornography." With that, you guide me into a booth--a crude little box with a seat, almost like a dressing room, with a video monitor mounted across from the seat with a touch screen and a dollar slot. On the video screen, previews of different videos show on a loop. You sit down on the bench and set your bag of sex toys on the seat next to you.

"Come here and stand in front of me."

I step forward and stand facing you, trembling.

You untie my hands and take back the cravat and place it next to you. "Are you ready?" you ask again softly, your eyes sliding into half-closed slits.

Oh, god. Yes. Yes. I want it. Whatever you have planned in your sick mind, I want it, even though I'm scared of it, and of you, and I know I'll regret whatever happens forever, and my whole life is about to change for a few minutes of mindless, fleeting carnal pleasures, and I'm supposed to be your master, and I'm only a little girl and you are over 500 years old and this is pedophilia times a thousand. "Please, Alucard," I whisper.

You lean back and relax. "Good girl. Lift up your skirt and show me what's underneath."

I feel numbness in my face at the request. Then my hands go numb. I close my eye and try to keep myself from fainting. My trembling hands reach for the hem of my skirt, and I lift it slowly, over my knees, over my thighs and finally above my hips, exposing my little white panties and, I'm sure, the patch of translucent wetness against my hungry slit.

"Good girl," you praise. "Stay just like that while I get ready. I want to feel good, too." You start rubbing yourself sensually between your legs and your erection swells to life. "You're a real good girl. Stand just like that. Keep showing me. You're making my cock feel good. You like my cock? You like looking at it?"

I nod. Watching you touch yourself is incredible. I am mesmerized by your hand stroking your growing bulge.

"I bet you want to touch my cock."

I nod again. I do want to touch your cock. I want to lick it, too. I want to do dirty things to you.

"Soon, if you're good. First I want you to strip for me. Do exactly as I say." You slow your stroking and let your hand rest on your thigh. "Turn around and face the screen." I do as you command and turn my back to you. I'm looking at the monitor screen, at bleach blond sluts bouncing obscenely up and down on hard cocks, cum drizzled over their stupid, blow-up doll like faces. "Take your blouse off and tie it around your waste."

Shaking, breathless, I do as you ask. I pull my blouse out of the hem of my skirt and unbutton it. I pull it off and my skin erupts into goose flesh from the cold air. I tie the arms of the blouse around me. I feel so exposed already.

"That's good. Now take your bra off and throw it on the floor."

This is more difficult. Its faster to do, but I'll finally be exposing myself to you, which seemed like an easy task a second ago, but now confronted with it I'm freezing up.

"Take your time," you encourage sympathetically. "Take it off. Take it off and discard it."

After several deep breaths I obey, reaching back behind me to unclasp the back and I slide the white fabric over my arms and let it drop to the floor. I know you can't see them, but I'm compelled to cover my breasts with my hands. My face is burning with embarrassment. My coral nipples are tight and erect in the cool air.

"You're a very brave little girl," you say. "You're doing good. Now, put the blouse back on. Button up every button, and tuck it back into your skirt."

I'm confused by the nature of this request, but remembering my promise to do whatever you asked, I do it anyways. I slowly put my blouse back on and button it back up. I can see my reflection slightly in the monitor screen, and other then my nipples lewdly pressing against the fabric, I look like my neat and proper self.

"Now take your panties off, but leave your skirt on. Lower them down your legs, and let them drop to the floor. Step out of them and leave them."

I lift my skirt up again and slide my wet panties down. This act I'm grateful for. The cool air feels good against my overheated pussy. I step out of the panties and leave them on the sticky, cum and fluid-covered floor, as you asked.

"Now turn around and face me." You pat your lap. "Sit with me and face the screen."

Shaking, I climb up on you lap, settling my rump into your lap. I rest my back against your chest, and you wrap your arms around my little body. "Good girl," you tell me softly. "Put your legs on the outside of mine. When I open my legs, yours will open wider."

I do as you ask, opening my legs and semi-straddling you. Even with your legs shut, mine are open very wide to accommodate your adult-sized thighs. How wide will I be spread when you open your legs too?

You take the cravat laying on the bench and tie my wrists together again, then lift my wrists over your head and settle them behind your neck. When you lean back, my hands are effectively restrained, my breasts lifted high from my stretching.

"Good girl, Integra," you whisper softly, taking your hands and sliding them up and down my flanks, grazing the sides of my breasts, and bunching my skirt up with each pass, pulling the hem of my skirt higher and higher up my thighs. "If you have a change of heart, there's no going back. Your tender little body belongs to me now, and I will decide when you feel pleasure, or pain."

Next to you is a shopping bag filled with sex toys that you collected already. Your hand slips inside and you pull out what look like white binder clips, with rubber edges around where the metal lips meet. You set them on my lap so I can look at them. "These will cause you light pain. They will enhance the pleasure you feel. Trust in me, and you will cum soon."

Your hands cup my breasts, making me gasp. You lightly touch my nipples through the cloth of my blouse with your fingers, circling them.

I sigh, feeling jolts of delicious, wicked pleasure from being touched so sensually. My breasts have never been touched by another person before. It feels both uncomfortable and electric and I want more. I moan openly, letting you know how much I like what you're doing. "Oohhhh….ohhhh…."

You seem to like my little noises. In response, you give my nipples light pinches, which brings me painful shocks that make me gasp, but then you tease and softly rub my nipples to soothe them, making me melt. Back and forth between little licks of pain and soft, sensual rubs. I see what you mean when you said pain can enhance pleasure. I anticipate your gentle pinches and moan appreciatively when I feel them. "Ah! Ohhhh….ohhhhh! Ah! Ah!" I writhe in your lap, eyes closed tightly, moaning.

"That's good, my master," you encourage. "Make those hungry little noises for me. Nice and loud. Don't hold back."

You release one of my nipples and take a binder clip off my lap. You open it up and place it on my protruding nipple straining against my white blouse, slowly letting it shut and clamp down on my sensitive little bud. This immediately brings me intense pain, much harsher than your fingers. I thrash and squeal. "Nooo! No, that hurts!"

You hold me down. "Hush my master. The pain is good. It will bring you pleasure."

"No! No, it hurts much too much! Its crushing it!" I wriggle in helpless agony, my heavy breasts swaying against my heaving chest, but the clamp keep my one breast pinned to my shirt. As I struggle, I only inflict more pain on myself. Trembling from ache, I start to settle down, trying to still myself, my eyes welling with tears.

"The pain causes an adrenalin rush," you explain softly. "Your heart rate increases, causing your already engorged gentiles to swell and become even more sensitive. The pain brings a jolt of sensation." You kiss my neck several times, soothing me. "Soon, you will learn to like the pain. You may soon learn to orgasm from it alone. I would like to paddle your bottom sometime, and see if I can make you cum without penetration or clitoral stimulation. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

I only barley hear you. My attention is fully occupied by my throbbing, pounding nipple. It hurts so much. I could punch you, it hurts so much.

"Time for the other one," you say, taking up the other clamp.

I whine with dread. "Nooo, please no."

"Put your trust in me, and you will cum soon." You clamp my other nipple, bringing excruciating pain.

"Nooooo!" I shriek. I try and stop myself from thrashing, knowing it will only hurt me, but the response is involuntary. Thankfully, you hold me tightly again, but this time the twin sensations of both my nipples being crushed simultaneously is too overwhelming to overcome. The pain is blinding. I thrash and scream in spite of myself. "Please, Alucard, I can't take it. It hurts! It hurts! Please take them off, please, I'll do anything, please take them off!"

You ignore my pleas and continue to hold me tightly against your chest, kissing my ear lovingly and whispering to me soft, sweet things while I cry and kick and beg in vain.

The initial shock begins to wear off after several miserable minutes, and soon I'm left with an angry pounding instead of the biting, tearing sensation I started with. It's not less painful, but it's painful in a long, burning, throbbing, aching way instead of a flesh ripping way. My sobs become quieter. I still want them off terribly. "Alucard, please…"

"We'll have to establish a routine," you say absently, pleasantly, caressing the undersides of my abused breasts. "Midnight is an adequate time. You should be finished with your duties by then. That is when I will meet you in your bedroom for servicing. I'll leave it to you remember to meet me. However, if you are late, if you intentionally cause me delay, I will punish you with a spanking." To emphasize your threat, you cruelly twist one of the nipple clamps, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. This refreshes all the terrible sensations I felt when you first put it on me. "You may think that's harsh of me, but I can't allow you to put off our meetings, or else we'll carry on until so early in the morning you won't be able to function, negating all the good servicing causes in the first place."

I emit inhuman, sad mewlings. I am beyond words.

"I expect you to strip for me and lay in the middle of the bed with your arms and legs spread. That will be easiest. Then I will service your body, using various tools and techniques." You slowly release one of your hands from around my waist and it drifts down towards my skirt. "I'll bring you to a predetermined number of orgasms, and then I'll tuck you into bed and let you sleep. You'll find you've never had a deeper, more restful sleep." You inch your own legs apart, which also spreads my own legs. My hot pussy lips begin to part, and I shiver with anticipation. I watch your hand descend towards my aching mound. "You may find this arrangement intrusive at first, but you'll grow to accept me. Over time, you won't be able to imagine things being any other way, and you'll look forward to our trysts, and think back on them fondly. I promise to always satisfy you and keep you feeling fulfilled. There's no fantasy, no fetish you can't confide in me. I will accommodate your every desire." Your finger tips trace my panty edges through the cloth of my skirt. You brush your hand over my warm pussy, grazing your knuckles over my sensitive lips. "As you grow older and you feel more comfortable and more adventurous, we can experiment with new things." Your middle finger dips into the cloth of my skirt, into my moist panties, nudging in between my pussy lips. I gasp and quiver at the forbidden intrusion, moaning loudly, feeling the pounding in my nipples. I think you realize you've found my sweet spot on the first try. You smile and tease me, rubbing your finger back and forth, stimulating me. I whimper and desperately hump your hand. "We can go to public places," you continue, "and I'll display you to strangers. Maybe we could take a long train ride through a scenic mountain range, and while you relax in your seat I'll lift up your skirt and finger your damp slit while some hapless tourist watches. Or maybe I could strip you, blind fold you and tie you to the bed posts of some seedy hotel room and leave the door wide open. You'll lure anonymous playmates and my dinner."

I'm swept away by your sexy voice. I'm putty in your hands, unable to resist. "Ohhh, Alucard," I moan helplessly.

You remove your finger from my body, and you begin to pull my skirt up, bunching it around my waist. "I will share you with select individuals who will facilitate your pleasure at my command." I feel the cold air against my bare legs and bare pussy. My eyes are shut tight, but I know my flesh is finally exposed to you. "You'll learn to trust me, even as I give you to others. You'll be subjected to hours of erotic play by dozens of skilled hands and mouths. I'll never leave your side, cradling your head in my lap, watching your face screw up in ecstasy from repeated orgasms." I feel you finger dance over my bare thigh, tracing circles in my inner leg, creeping closer and closer to my lush pussy. "Only then, my master. Only then, when you're completely exhausted, and you're entwined in dozens of hot limbs, your face flush and your hair damp, your nipples and ass being licked by my hoards…only then will I climb over your diminutive body and reveal my flesh to you."

Your finger traces my damp slit and I swoon. You smear my moisture around lazily, running your finger up and down, up and down. I jiggle and in your arms, my breasts swaying against my blouse, my nipples crushed by your toys. I want you. I want you.

"I'll kiss your mouth and you'll open your lips and accept me. You'll feel so strange. For all the years I've made you cum, we've never kissed. You'll know its time, and I'll leave the choice to you."

"Choice?" I whimper.

Your finger dips into my moist folds at last, sinking deep inside, testing the tightness of my channel. You can barely get your finger to the second knuckle, and being the gentleman you are, you withdraw it slowly and don't try to force it. "Whether or not you want to be my Draculina or bear my offspring. You cannot make the wrong choice. Both please me equally. Whichever path you choose, I will guarantee your happiness." You kiss the back of my neck. "I will either drink your blood at that moment, while you are still a virgin, or I will bathe your ripe womb with my seed until I am confident you are with child. Either way, I shall return to Hellsing victorious."

I feel an odd moment of clarity and a sting of betrayal. "This doesn't have anything to do with wanting to please me. You want to conquer Hellsing. And you'll do it by contaminating my family line with your blood. Of course either choice pleases you—both choices have the same result."

You kiss me again. "I never said my intentions were pure. I have wanted to take my vengeance against Abraham Van Helsing for over one hundred years. I bet Abraham never imagined that one day I would be fingering his great-granddaughter's tight snatch in a porn shop."

Your cruel fingers twist a nipple clamp while your other hand finds my tender clit and starts to strum it mercilessly. "His great-granddaughter is a slut. A vampire's slut. Soon, you'll submit to me and you'll learn to suckle my cock and drink my foul cum down your throat. And you'll love it."

I'm too far gone to stop you now. I feel the build up in my loins. My nipples, despite the clamps, are firm and erect and pounding harder than ever. I know I'm going to cum soon, and nothing can stop it. I don't try to resist. I have already surrendered to you. "Ohhh, ohhhh, ohhhh!"

You spread your legs wider and my legs open even wider, and I sink into your lap deeper, my ass hanging over the edge of the seat. I cling to your thighs with my legs and try not to fall down.

With your one hand still strumming away at my clit, I watch the other delve into the bag at your side and emerge with a silicone dildo. "I believe," you say mischievously, "this is originally the item that you came here to find. Here it is, Integra. Your long-sought after vibrator."

That seemed like a million years ago. I look at it with a foggy and detached, sex-laced disinterest.

You bring it to my lips. "Suck," you instruct.

I obediently open my mouth and you shove the plastic prick in. You pump it in and out of my mouth, whispering, "Get it good and wet. Lick it good." I load it with saliva, getting it as lubed as my mouth can. Finally, you withdraw it and position it at the entrance of my exposed pussy. You twist a dial on the end of the vib and it buzzes to life. You momentarily rest the head of the toy against my wet entrance, letting the vibrations shock me, then you start to corkscrew the small dildo into my body. I start to scream.

"Now, now, master. This is a small toy, so it shouldn't stretch you too much. Accept it into your body. If it helps, pretend it's my cock."

I know the toy is small, but I've never had anything inserted into my body before. The invasion feels very severe, and the vibrations are earth-shattering. You screw it into my body deeper and deeper. Finally, I feel the dial pressing against my clit, so I know the little thing is all the way inside me. I can feel it buzzing against my G-spot. I'm gasping and moaning helplessly, writhing in your lap.

But I hear you digging in the toy bag again. I look down and see you withdraw another smaller vib, no thicker than your pinky and no longer than your index finger. On the side, it reads "Bullet."

"These little ones are very strong and very fast," you warn me. "They're very good for clitoral stimulation. I think you'll like this one very much." You turn it on and it makes a very high-pitched buzzing. "Mmm. It tickles my hand just to hold it. Here, let me try it on you."

I watch in terror as it descends on my erect and engorged clit. "Ahhhhhh!" I scream as it makes contact. Its so fast and so strong…it almost feels like an electrical current, like I'm getting electro shocked right on my clit.

You laugh at my terrified reaction. You don't leave the thing on my clit for long. You subject me to a series of light touches, just breezing over my clit. Each pass make me scream and thrash.

"I should get a harness that will position this directly over your clit," you muse. "I'll tie you up and leave it turned on high and just leave you for a few hours to thrash, scream and cum your brains out. Or maybe I'll shove it up your asshole while I make you suck my cock. Mmm. Yes, that sounds delicious."

You press the bullet against my clit again and again, making me cry and beg and scream. Then you take the bullet reach under my bottom and I feel you press it up against my anus. The buzzing jolts my tender nerve endings and I jump. "No! No, please, not that!"

You just laugh at me, pressing the bullet firmly against my asshole, not trying to penetrate me, just giving my delicate opening the scare of its life. You rub it back and forth over my bud, pressing it tighter against me as I struggle to escape its strong vibrations. "Noooo! Noooo!"

"I'll spare your tight ass tonight," you say, "but I'll want my pleasure eventually, and I'm not going to wait until I take your virginity to have it. No, soon you'll learn to willingly pleasure me with your asshole. You'll learn to love the feel of my cock sawing in and out of your tight anal flesh. You'll find yourself begging me to fuck your nasty hole. You'll see me in the office and you'll rub your ass sensuously against my cock and you'll bend over and present your ripe ass to me and beg me to fuck you. I'll have to give you a harsh spanking and remind you to wait for your servicing. I'll give you all the hot ass fucking you can take then. I fill your ass with my cum, then you can suck your disgusting juices off me shaft with your mouth."

I feel the tip of the bullet press into my anus. It's so small and slender and my ass cheeks are covered in my vaginal juices leaking from my used pussy, it just slides in. The harsh, electric buzzing fills my bottom and rocks my core.

I start cumming. Loudly.

--

"Sir Integra?" Walter shouts, banging on the door.

I jolt awake. I'm sitting in your lap, just as I was a moment ago in the porn shop; my legs are spread obscenely wide, my bare rump and pussy hanging in mid-air, my skirt bunched around my waist. But some key elements are different. I'm not in a porn shop, for one thing, and there's no buzzing dildos or bullets inserted in my body. Just your gloved fingers. I look down and see your index finger firmly inserted into my vaginal opening, and your thumb is deep inside my burning ass. Instead of sophisticated nipple clamps attached to my breasts, there are two simple binder clips, taken directly off my desk.

In front of us, my laptop is open, with the same porn and sex toy site displayed on the monitor as there was hours ago.

I look back at you, and you look more shocked than I am. "I got carried away," you say in the smallest voice I've ever heard.

Reality hits me like a ton of bricks. It was a fantasy. You manipulated me with your mind and made me think we went out in the world to do horrible things, but the truth is we never left my office. I've been here the whole time in the safety of my own home, with nothing but your voice and your fingers.

Walter is banging on the door. "Sir Integra! Sir Integra!"

I'm too shocked to speak. I'm looking at your face, searching for answers to questions I can ask out loud. "Alucard?" is all I can muster, in the most hurt and betrayed voice.

I scramble off your lap and shove my skirt down and (regretfully)rip the binder clamps off my breasts. "Oh my God!" I shriek, blood rushing back to my crushed nipples. "Oh GOD IT HURTS!" I collapse to the floor.

Walter kicks in the door and rushes to my side when he sees me on the ground. "Sir Integra! I heard you screaming and I came right away. What's the matter? My dear, are you hurt? Show me."

I clutch my breasts in agony, trying to face away from him. "I hurt. I hurt."

Soon, Walter can see where I'm clutching and he recoils. "Y-your breasts?"

I roll away in shame and start to cry uncontrollably. "I don't know what's wrong, but they hurt. I'm so ashamed. Why do my breasts hurt? Does it mean I'm bad?"

Walter keeps trying to take me up in his arms, but then he backs away for fearing he might injure me, but then he comes back. "No, no, Sir Integra, it doesn't mean you're bad. It probably has something to do with puberty, or the beginning on your menstrual cycle." He's scrambling for something reassuring and medical-sounding to say to soothe me, but he had no idea about a woman's development. He probably thinks ovaries are in your pituitary gland.

But Walter's a good, well meaning soul and he picks me up in his arms.

I clench my thighs together, hoping he doesn't notice I don't have any panties. Who the hell knows where they are—they could totally be on the floor right in front of my desk for all I know.

Walter carries me away to my bedroom and lays me down. "Please lay still Sir Integra, and I'll call your doctor."

"Don't bring him here," I cry. "I don't want to show anyone my breasts. I'm too embarrassed." I wipe a tear from my eye. "Just describe my symptoms and see what he suggests. I don't want everyone to know this happened. I don't want the maids or the soldiers snickering about my 'woman problems'."

"Don't worry about a thing Sir Integra," Walter assures me. "I'll keep this quiet. It will be our secret."

I squeeze his hand. "Thank you for protecting me, Walter."

He leaves quickly and I lay back on my bed and heave a sigh of frustrated relief. All that crying wasn't for show. My breasts hurt like a son of a bitch. I unbutton my blouse and peak inside and see my nipples are purple and black.

I rebutton my blouse and gingerly rub my breasts. "I want my panties back, too, you sorry son of a bitch!" I shout to the empty air.

I wait.

Then I see you reemerge from the walls, your head ducked down in shame. You walk towards the bed me silently.

I snatch them up. "Alucard, my nipples are bruised. What were you thinking?"

"Master, I…"

"I mean, they're black and blue." I take the wadded up panties and shove them under my pillow. "When I was screaming my head off; 'They hurt, they hurt, please take them off,' what the fuck did you think that meant?"

You don't answer.

"Did you shut off my laptop?" I demand. "You didn't just leave a browser full of sex sites sitting open on my desk, did you?"

"I shut it off, yes, Master."

"Good." I point angrily to the bathroom. "Go in there and bring me hand lotion right now."

You obey me promptly and return with a bottle of simple hand lotion. You try to hand it to me but I put up my hand, indicating I want you to hold onto it. I unbutton my blouse and reveal to you my swollen, bruised nipples. I watch you recoil in shock.

"My god master. I didn't realize…"

I put my blouse to the side and lay down on my bed. "I don't care. Pour the lotion between my breasts and let my body heat warm it up a little. Then massage the oil into my breasts. Carefully."

You blink.

"You fingered my asshole," I snarl. "With your thumb. Now you're going to massage my breasts, which is decidedly less disgusting and less invasive." I glare at you. "You prick."

I have just discovered something about you. When I say things to you in a really demanding voice and I swear a lot, you follow orders a little faster.

You pour a few droplets of oil between my breasts and leave it to warm up. You watch my face as I relax into the pillows of my bed. After a few quiet minutes, you pull your gloves off your hands and scoop the oil into your palms, rub it around a little, and then very gingerly cup my breasts. They are large enough to fill even your big hands.

I know you are being careful, but its not careful enough. I clench my teeth and clamp down on a scream that tries to escape my mouth. "Mphmm!"

"I'm sorry master," you croon, using feather light touches.

"Just be as careful as you can," I sigh.

I close my eyes and relax as you softly soothe my aching breasts with your hands. After a few minutes, it starts to feel good and I allow myself to smile to let you know you're doing a good job. "So, it was all an illusion?"

"Yes master."

"It was very convincing."

"I'm sorry master." I hear you cringing. "It was a violation. Even as I was doing it, I knew it was wrong, but once I started I couldn't stop myself and I…"

I don't give a shit about your guilty conscious. "So, when I was giving the clerk a hand-job, was that your cock I was feeling?"

You seem taken aback. "Yes master."

I'm excited. The first cock I ever felt was yours. "Did I make you cum? Like I made him cum?"

You seem to relax a little. "Yes master. You made me cum."

"Was it good?"

You sigh. "Yes. Yes, it was very good."

"I liked making you cum," I say eagerly. "I loved how you felt in my hands. You didn't have to lie to me. You didn't need to make up a story. I would have done it if you had asked."

"Th-thank you master."

"And that scenario….." I'm breathless. "That was so hot. And it was so vivid!" I open my eyes and look at you lustily. "You have a filthy mouth. I love how you talk dirty. You're fucking nasty."

You're almost embarrassed. I think there's a hint of a red rising to your checks. I thinking you're fucking blushing. "I…," you clear your throat, "I have an active imagination."

I'm giddy. "You have problems. No one talks dirty like that who isn't completely fucked up. You were talking about rape and exhibition and BDSM and orgies and….holy shit, Alucard, that was amazing. I came so hard."

You look bewildered. "You aren't angry with me?"

"I'm angry because you nearly ripped my nipples off, but the fantasy? No, I'm not angry about that at all." Now, I'm the one who's starting to blush. "As a matter of fact…if you're not doing anything at midnight….I'll be laying here naked, spread, waiting to be 'serviced'."

You jaw almost falls out of your mouth. "What?"

"You're my freak fetish. I want to play with you again." I smile demurely. "Anywhere you want to go. Anything you want to do. I'll put my intimate, sexual needs entirely in your care. I trust you to make me feel good." I touch your face. "No back-seat fondling for me. I want the best. I want your nastiest, dirtiest fantasy."

"I feel strongly about not spoiling your virginity."

I smirk. "Why, which fate do you want for me? Do you want me to be your Draculina or…" I take one of your oiled hands from off my breast and place it on my flat, youthful belly. "Or do you want to bathe my womb with your seed and have me bear your offspring?"

I immediately regret saying it. I watch your face collapse with shame.

"I'm just teasing," I say.

Deep down, I guess we all have our secret fetishes we're too embarrassed to share with anyone, and you clearly shared one of yours with me in a moment of unrestrained passion. I remember reading you had two sons by two different wives, and neither of them lived to adult hood. Having children might be an unfulfilled, life-long ambition of yours—one I realize will remain unfulfilled as vampires can't bear live offspring. I think I've really embarrassed you.

Sensing an open wound, I try and make light of it. "Ok, I can tell that you're uncomfortable. When you grow up, we'll talk about it again."

You show me a grateful half-smile. "Did you really like my fantasy?"

"It was amazing."

"I have a lot more fantasies." You use your oiled hands to sensually rub my breasts. "Did you like how I fingered you? Did it feel good?"

I groan. "Yes. It felt very good."

"Did you even like…?"

"It was uncomfortable," I say quickly. "But it didn't hurt. It made me feel…slutty." I smile. "It could be a good feeling."

"I'll meet you at midnight then. I'll take you out of this house and we'll go somewhere nasty."

"I'll be sure to be one minute past," I say softly. "I want that spanking you promised."

--

The End of Integra's Fantasy….

Or is it?