period blood. munch!alcina. blooddrunk!alcina. overstimulation. biting. brief mommy kink. strap usage. period sex(bite me).
♱ Alcina is the love of your life. She treats you as if you were her own precious. Now, by all means, she wasn’t soft with you. She was less firm and strict with you. She loved you dearly, yes, but she won’t baby you. Cherish, she did. Always have and will. Alcina is always there for her dearest lover—always by your side or sending her best servants to tend to you.
However, this was something the servants couldn’t help. Your stomach cramped and ached, lower back ached, and you just wanted to stay in bed all day. The servants knew what was wrong, but they couldn’t help. Not how Alcina could. They always called her right away when times were like this. “Who has called for me?” Her voice echoed through the room, narrowing her eyes down at the anxious servants. They were always so skittish around her, unlike you. You were more lenient. “Well, uh…My Lady, your dearest is in pain at the moment. W-we figured to call you as you know how to, um…help.”
Alcina’s eyes flickered away from the servants to look at you, watching you curl into a ball to alleviate the torture your uterus was enduring. “Sweetie, it’s fine…just need to rest…” She didn’t believe your protest, especially with how your brows furrowed and lips pursed into a thin line as you groaned. Her jaw clenched slightly as she loathed the sight of you in pain.
It was a beat of silence before she briskly excused the servants. “Leave us.” Not another word was said as the servants were already out the door, murmuring hushed whispers. Her eyes stayed locked onto you as she took off her hat, stalking closer to you. “Oh, my sweet flower. In pain, yes?”
“Alci, ‘m fine—“
“Don’t lie to me. I can smell her. She weeps for me.”
You almost cringed at her words. As much as she seemed so calm, she was restraining herself from devouring you. She absolutely looked when this time came. She got to satiate her taste for blood and also have a taste of you, but more richer in flavor. “It feels dirty.” She simply laughed at your weak words, settling next to you on the wide bed as she pulled you to settle on her lap, “Oh please, darling. I’m only helping your ache and allowing myself to eat.”
Her lips found yours in a tender, but hungry kiss. She tasted of wine and grapes. Her fingers trailed slowly over your body before stopping back down at your stomach. Her lips danced with yours before she pulled away, chuckling as you tried to chase her lips until she found the sweet flesh of your neck. Her teeth sunk into the tender flesh of you, savoring the small whimper and how she could practically hear your pulse bound against your neck. It was only then until she pulled away, looking over your skin with satisfaction with the litter of purple and maroon.
A beat of silence paused before she murmured, “Not that I’ve heard you complain as I feasted.”
She was insufferable.
The spacious room echoed with the sounds of moans and broken whines, allowing for anyone who walked by to hear your sweet melodies. Though you complained how dirty it felt, you couldn’t deny how good her tongue felt dipping into your gaping hole and over your hypersensitive clit. Alcina was drowning in it all, but happily. Her mouth was covered in slick and blood, along with the slight bits of clots. It was a disgusting sight, yes, but you ignored it for now as she was practically sucking your soul from your cunt.
The more she devoured you, the more rough she got with you. Her hands held your thighs up and apart, pushing them back so you wouldn’t squirm your way out. The lewd slurping sounds and her low growls filled your head, making you whine as your body warmed with such an overwhelming fire. “Alcina—h-ha….e-ease up a little..” It was as if your words fell on to deaf ears. She knew it wasn’t too much for you, you were just a bit more sensitive due to your cycle. It was only then until she pulled away, revealing her bloodied-slicked chin as she gazed up at you with those piercing eyes. “Hush now, love. Don’t you think it’s rude to interrupt a lady while she’s eating, no? Let alone making her lover feel bliss?”
Your lips trembled slightly as you were a bit dazed for words, but a sharp slap to your thigh caught your attention immediately. “Y-yes! Yes ma’am….it’s rude….’m sorry.” “Good.” That was all she said before diving back in, but more frivolous. Your head fell back in the sheets as you grasped at the satin fabric, whining and whimpering as she sucked over your clit with such suction. It was like she was trying to drain you completely. “Oh—shit, Cina! Mgh—please…” A pleased hum was heard from her at your pleads, prompting her to double down her efforts. Two of her fingers slipped into you with a loud squelch, making you gasp at the stretch and the pornographic noise. She curled her fingers as she moved them with an alarming speed, making you cry out as your thighs quaked.
“A-Alcina!”
She knew that cry like the back of her hand, smirking against your folds before she pulled away, but giving a quick stride of her tongue over your sensitive clit. “There she is. If I recall, didn’t you say this felt dirty, hm?” You couldn’t even try to back up your words, only moaning and whining incoherent sentences as you writhed. She only chuckled before she gripped your chin, forcing your flittering eyes up at her as she sped up her fingers. “No? I didn’t think so. You always end up like this for me, my dear. Nothing but a moaning mess, leaking over my precious sheets. Such a messy little thing…go on. Show me how messy my precious really is.”
And just like that, the band in your stomach snapped; cumming with a loud, broken cry as your body seized. Your trembling thighs quaked around her wrist before she pulled them apart, making your body jolt as you tried to squirm. Your head swirled in bliss. Sex with your dearest was always amazing, but during times like this? It was ask if you were floating on a cloud of bliss and ecstasy. However, she wasn’t done, no. During your time of bliss, she was already undressing herself and hooking the strap to her hips. The faux dick hung heavy between her legs, almost intimidating. Your breath hitched at the sight before you—her being completely bare—you could only thank the universe for having her. “Oh, come now. Don’t tell me my sweet thought this was over?” She chided lowly as she wiped away the leftover blood from her chin, “You must forget who you married, no?”
That’s how you found yourself here; moaning weakly as she split you on her dick. back against her voluptuous breast. legs spread apart with her thighs. her fingers skillfully playing over your clit as if it was harp. Your head leaned against her shoulder as your mouth spilled open with moans and whines, feeling your body burn with each thrust. Her unoccupied hand held your hip tightly, guiding your movements as you bounced. “That’s it. Feels much better, hm?” You nodded mindlessly as you whimpered, trying your absolute hardest not to cum already. “I-It’s too much! H-ha….‘s much…can feel you…”
“You’re doing good, so good. You’ve taken me before.” She leaned to whisper in your ear, “And you’ll keep doing so. Don’t you want to feel good? Stop those miserable cramps? Don’t you want to be good for me, hm?” You couldn’t help but nod desperately, it was almost pathetic, “Y-yes—hngh! Yes—-‘m gonna be so good…wanna feel good—‘m close…” Her lips curled into a sinful smirk before she trailed her lips from your ear to your neck, biting down on the sweet flesh; making you cry out. Your walls instinctively clamped down around her, prompting you to thrust down harder—hitting that spot that made you see universities beyond the stars. “There she is. There’s my little flower. Come on…give it to me.”
With only a few more bounces and slow circles over your buzzing clit, you were crashing down. Your body seized up as you trembled against her, back arching from her chest as you were reduced to a broken, whimpering mess. Those sharp, yellow eyes gaze down to the sticky, maroon color that coated your thighs and hers. It sparked something in her. Your body laid exhausted against her until you felt her arm sneak to hold your waist against her firmly, slowly thrusting back into you with a slow squelch.
Can you maybe write smth for lady Dimitriscu and a wife who's like blind?? (And around her height because everyone always writes for like normal human height /neu)
You don't have to i just wanted to ask.. cause I selfship with her and there isn't enough lady D content out there (There's a lot but it's never enough)
Lady Dimitrescu with a blind! wife! reader
࣪𖤐.ᐟ note -> WELL HELLO FELLOW SELF SHIPPER !! I self ship with Donna ^^ and I completely understand there is never enough content abt my girlfriends.
࣪𖤐.ᐟ warnings -> none.
࣪𖤐.ᐟ content includes -> just fluff.
۫ ꣑ৎ Alcina never thought she would meet someone who could truly match her presence, someone who stood tall beside her without ever flinching at her stature. The moment Alcina realized you were blind, she was secretly relieved—because for once, someone saw her for who she was beyond the towering figure and striking beauty. It shook her to her core that you adored her without ever laying eyes on her face, and Alcina treasures that deeply.
۫ ꣑ৎ She is surprisingly gentle with you in private. Despite her sharp demeanor with others, with you Alcina lowers her voice, softens her tone, and makes sure every movement is slow and deliberate so you always know where she is. Alcina guides you with a hand at the small of your back or her fingers laced with yours, always ensuring you feel secure in her presence.
۫ ꣑ৎ Alcina develops the habit of narrating things aloud whenever she is with you. From the way her daughters are bickering across the hall, to the sunlight spilling across the marble floors, she paints vivid pictures with her words just so you can experience everything through her descriptions. You tease her once for sounding like she’s reciting poetry, but Alcina secretly loves the intimacy of it.
۫ ꣑ৎ Your blindness never once makes her think of you as fragile. Alcina admires your strength and independence, though she still insists on helping you with even the smallest things. She knows you are capable, but Alcina adores the excuse to take care of you—pouring your wine, guiding you through her castle, or reading aloud from her favorite books while you sit curled against her side.
۫ ꣑ৎ Alcina has a particular fondness for watching how you map the world with your hands. Whether you are feeling the texture of a velvet drape or the curve of her collarbone, Alcina goes completely still, her breath catching every time your fingers trail across her skin. She is fascinated by the way you "see" her through touch, and she secretly hopes you’ll never stop exploring her in that way.
۫ ꣑ৎ Being nearly the same height as her thrills the Lady more than she’ll admit. Alcina loves being able to hold you without bending down, loves the feeling of your presence being just as commanding as hers. It makes her feel like you are truly her equal, her partner, and not someone she must shield from the world’s gaze. It’s a rare kind of intimacy that she has never experienced before.
۫ ꣑ৎ Alcina becomes fiercely protective whenever anyone even hints at pitying you for your blindness. Her eyes go sharp, her voice dripping venom as she shuts them down instantly. To her, you are perfection, and she will not tolerate anyone suggesting otherwise. Her daughters quickly learn to follow her example, and they treat you with the same respect they give their mother.
۫ ꣑ৎ Affection between you two is something entirely unique. Alcina doesn’t shower you with dramatic gestures when it’s just the two of you; instead, she thrives on quiet closeness. She will tuck you against her, guide your hand to rest over her heart, or let you lean on her shoulder while she smokes in the dim glow of the fireplace. These moments of soft domesticity mean more to her than any grand show of power ever could.
۫ ꣑ৎ Alcina adores dancing with you in the grand ballroom. She leads with care, describing each step so you never falter, but secretly she loves the way you trust her completely to guide you across the floor. She hums softly in your ear as you move, and though no one else can see your shared world in those moments, she knows it’s more beautiful than any waltz the castle has ever held.
۫ ꣑ৎ She cherishes the way you kiss her face without hesitation. You never worry about her lipstick smudging or where exactly your lips land—you simply press kisses to her jaw, her cheekbones, her temple, anywhere you can reach. Alcina goes utterly still every time, overwhelmed that you don’t need to see her to love her so wholly. For a woman who has lived surrounded by mirrors and the opinions of others, your blind devotion is the most intoxicating thing she has ever known.
Summary : Your Alcina's right hand but what happens when you get terribly sick and the girls take over. Tricks were played until you showed up to stop them.
The annual meeting was one of the most important when it comes to the lords. Normally, you'd be the one to help out Alcina when things don't go as planned.
You were her right hand. Her lover.
Unfortunately, you had caught a cold during the winter season. Your voice was barely a whisper and your body ached. Alcina had offered to stay and cancel the meet but you insisted you'd be fine. That she should go on without your help and bring the girls to help out.
That was the worst mistake.
------------------------------------------------
In the Grand Halls of Castle Dimitrescu, chaos erupted.
Bella sat innocently at the table with a wicked smile. Her flies had flown around Heisenberg, who was now trying his best to swat the flies away while some stuffed glitter in his coat and hat. When Heisenberg brought his hat up, he was met with a splash of glitter to the face which added more joy to the girls. Heisenberg cursed loudly.
Cassandra, on the other hand, had somehow made Moreau cower in fear from the girl. Daniella laughed as she threw Angie around like a mere toy while Donna tried to save her companion.
Alcinas patience was wearing thin. The girls were playing on thin ice and they weren't planning to stop anytime. Enjoying causing chaos.
Taking a deep breath, " Girls, stop. "
Alcina tried her best to not lose composure, her brows were creased and her jaw tightened when the girl ignored her.
Bela's smirk widened. Cassandra rolled her eyes. Daniella laughed louder.
" Girls... "
Your voice, barely a whisper. They froze.
Everyone turned towards the door, to see you. A maid by your side holding you as if you'd shatter into millions when she lets go. You were shivering even when the castle had been made warmer than usual. Your breathing was shallow, but your eyes were trained on them, tired and disappointed.
The daughters immediately sat into their own chairs, quietly. Bela's expression showed guilt. Cassandra couldn't even meet your eyes. Daniella quickly made her way beside you with a worried expression.
You looked to the rest of the table.
The lords quietly showed their gratitude with small smiles, nods of understanding and quite thanks.
Your wife, Alcina shown concern. She was beside you in a heartbeat. Gently, she brought you into her arms.
" You shouldn't be out of bed. " She lightly scolded, her voice wavering slightly. " What were you thinking ?"
Your attempt to laugh failed as it became a fit of cough which echoed throughout the room. " I was thinking that you needed help." You tried your best to give her a smile.
" Someone had to stop them " You glanced at the girls who seems have deeply regretted their actions.
" The meeting ends here. " Alcina announced sternly, eyes sharp as she glanced around the room. " We'll reconvene once my wife is well again. Any objections?"
The lords nodded their heads.
As Alcina walks through the castle with you in her arms. Her daughters trailed behind, silently. They knew they'd cross the line. But for now, you'll be their priority to care for.
When Alcina found you passed out in her arms, she gently rubbed circles around your fevered temple.
intersex dom Lady D x submissive wife reader who loves to ride her and Lady D just wraps her arms around her holding her down w/mommy kink and overstimulation pretty please!🖤
Day Seven: Riding
Intersex!dom!lady dimitrescu x sub!fem!reader
Warnings: Dom/sub, mommy kink, ass slapping, overstimulation
Kinktober masterlist
“Come on darling, that’s it. Riding mommy so good aren’t you baby?.” She purrs in your ear as you move your hips back and forth. You let out a whimper in response but alcina didn’t like that response. “Words.” She demanded as she landed a smack to your bare ass making you let out a loud moan. “Y-yes m-mommy!” You struggle to get out and she smirked. “That’s a good girl. Come on now, keep going.” Alcina instructed you and you nodded.
Your movements started to slow down and alcina growled, slapping your ass again, making you sit up on her lap. “I know you are close baby. You’re so close.” She said as her hands on your hips tighten their grip. You struggled to ride her as your orgasm was here but you kept going, cumming all over her cock. Alcina smiled at you wickedly and all of a sudden she pushed her hips up, shoving her cock deeper inside of you. You let out a squeak and looked at her, her eyes still filled with lust.
She grabbed your body that was still on top of her snd started jackhammering into you. Your mouth fell agape as she started to fuck you like an animal as you never felt this good before. You could feel everything she was giving you and she was hitting all of the right spots that make making you go silent and see stars. “Awwww my little baby going silent now?” She teased and you whimpered. “F-feels t-too good.” You gasp out as alcina slowed her thrusts but she slammed into you every few seconds.
Alcina kept fucking you until you were crying and begging for her to stop but she wanted to make you cum one last time. “Can’t you give me one more baby? Just one? Be a good girl for mommy now.” Alcina whispered in your ear as she continues to fuck you, her thrusts slow and gentle as she knows you are extremely sensitive right now. “O-okay…” you whimpered out and alcina gives you a big smile. “What a good girl. Cum for mommy.” She said as she starts nibbling on your neck as her cock in buried deep inside of you. Your hands were on her soft back, clawing at it, the pleasure consuming you.
Not long after, you came for the tenth time that night and you were completely fucked out and spent. Alcina gently pulled out of you and you let out a loud whine. “Shhh shhh im sorry baby it’s okay. Let’s go to sleep now little mouse. I’ll clean and take care of you in the morning.” She whispered in your ear as she takes you into her arms, you immediately cuddling up to her. “Sweet dreams darling.”
A/n: thank you anon for this request, I hope you and everyone else enoyed it! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all!
Could I request the four lord's with a combat hardened s/o (maybe they were a ex-hunter for some extra spice 👀) who just becomes soft and loving in their hands. Probably tries to spoil them with affection on a daily basis
YES!! Absolutely!! I love when tough characters turn soft, and you gave me the perfect opportunity to write something for it!
The Resident Evil Lords With a Tough-as-Nails S/O Who Turns to Putty in Their Hands
Alcina Dimitrescu
She heard the whispers of the people in the town about a new resident, but she didn’t think that her daughters would talk to her about you
It was spring, so she wasn’t angry about her daughters going outside
“I’m telling you Mother, it’s like they’re made out of stone! They didn’t care that we had blood on our faces either!”
“They said they had seen blood too, so they didn’t care.”
“They polished our sickles because they said we ‘didn’t do it right.’”
Her daughters were never this talkative, but you made them chatterboxes
She invited you over, but only to appease her daughter’s never ending curiosity
Oh dear. They're attractive.
Here you were, tough as nails, smiling as her daughters fawned over you and asked you how many weapons you knew how to use (and if you were afraid of bugs)
When you looked at her, all she got was a curt nod and you went right back to talking (listening, really) to her daughters
She was fascinated by you
Clearly you weren’t local, and from your sense of style you looked homeless, so she insisted you lived at the castle
Uh, a little salty at the homeless comment, you denied, but she insisted
It was a good thing you liked the girls or you would be way harder to convince
You stay at the castle, trying to stay away from her, but she always seems to find you
You talk, and you learn about her while she learns about you
She learns that you were an ex-FBI agent (she didn’t know what that was- you explained) that was primarily out in the field as a bounty hunter
Alcina did know what that was, which explained your scars, your weapons know-how, and your reluctance to be open to her
She ultimately decided that you deserved to pampered after what you’ve been through
Fancy clothes
Elaborate meals
Expensive gifts
Lots of compliments
“You look fantastic today, my love. Be sure to take care of your scars!”
“The way that you punched Heisenberg was absolutely artistic. Wonderful form, darling.”
Even after the homeless comment, you continue to get more comfortable with her and eventually melt in her hands
She loves how soft you’ve become, and you love her as well
Donna Beneviento
Having your silence is somewhat comforting, but also a bit unsettling
You had explained that you were in the village to research the lycans and possible mold samples that have been sighted
You heard that she was knowledgeable on the local wildlife, so you went to her
You were somewhat startling to her
Silent, strong, good with weapons and with communication (and riddled with scars)
She was extremely anxious and quiet while she talked about her plants
She became even more anxious when you just listened in absolute silence, not giving her any information on what you were thinking
In actuality you were just very relaxed by her voice
It was calm, quiet, and her plants were interesting to listen to
To her absolute mortification, you started to shut your eyes and drift off because of what she thought was boredom
After reassuring her that that was most certainly the opposite of what was going on, Angie voiced Donna’s little boost in confidence
“So the big, bad researcher likes to listen to the plant lady talk? Hah! That’s the best thing I’ve heard in a while!”
Donna was confused and a little flattered that you could fall asleep to her voice and feel relaxed enough in her home to shut your eyes
While talking some more, many of her dolls started to flock around you and gently touch your hands and face while whispering little compliments into your ear
You were preening under their attention after the initial panic when dolls started to pet you
Donna was more quiet as they worked around you, letting her dolls voice her own thoughts instead of herself
Angie was the one that whispered into your ear that it was really Donna talking and not completely sentient dolls
You blushed and looked at her, asking her if it was true
She nodded hesitantly
That is not what you were expecting but you were not complaining
You beamed and sank further into your chair, letting the dolls fawn over you some more while you smiled at Donna
Your cold exterior melted away, Donna and her dolls waiting no time in praising and pampering you
Donna very much enjoyed watching you relax because of her, and she (Angie) told you as much
She hoped that you would stay so she could continue to talk to you and flatter you
Salvatore Moreau
At first, Moreau was terrified of you
This battle-hardened person with scars and weapons was wandering around his pond in modern black clothes and boots
He stayed away from you
You were a stranger that was in his village and wandering around in his home with a look in your eye tough enough to kill
He was forced to talk to you when you showed up in his house holding a crystallized lycan skull and asked him where the Duke was
Moreau was not thrilled that you were in his house and he was going to throw you out until you looked into his room, saw what was on his TV, and sat right down beside him
Oh. Uh, okay.
He couldn't kick you out, that would be rude! You just got comfortable next to a pungent monster like him and were watching I Love Lucy with him
"Hey. You're Moreau, right? Sorry I've been creeping around. The townspeople had a bounty on a lycan that was eating their socks and I thought I would track it down. Cool place you've got here."
That started your friendship
He very excitedly told you about the flora and fauna in his lake and even got to telling you about what other television shows he liked to watch
When he said he didn't know what Sienfeld was, you stared at him, offended
After reassuring him that he didn't insult you and that you weren't suddenly figuring out how monstrous he was, you told him it was just a show you thought he would like
Oh.
You thought about something? For him? That was nicer than what he deserved
You and Salvatore talked well into the night, the light of the TV screen and the flashlight from your phone providing more than enough light
He learned about you. He learned that you were a retired bounty hunter that heard about the trouble in the village and decided to stay and help
He also learned that you actually liked hearing him talk
This started a tradition of you and Sal talking and eating, and your friendship grew into something more
"Y-you look great today, love. Sorry about the mucus on your boots."
"For you! It's chocolate. The Duke says it should be okay to eat. Should chocolate be green? Oh, sorry..."
You light up under his words, grinning from ear to ear every time he talked to you
It was odd to see you go from "bounty hunter mode" to "happy idiot" so fast, but he loved it
He was just happy he had someone to love. A very scary someone, but someone nonetheless.
Karl Heisenberg
He had no idea what the fuck all the fuss was all about. Someone from the government came to the village to investigate and see if everyone was still alive and outbreak of the megamycete was contained.
Whatever, it happens once a year
Normally it's some stuck-up priss in a suit or a satin dress that got ruined they stepped into this cesspool of a village
You were not that
Heisenberg was starting to understand why people were taking about you and not just watching the inspection from their houses like they usually do
He wasn't going to lie, you looked like one tough son of a bitch
Cold eyes, calloused hands, combat boots and a gun strapped to your thigh
He was a little surprised when you asked to inspect his factory considering no other inspector had done that before, but it looks like the government sent someone competent to do the job this time
He watched you inspect, staying no more than five feet away from you for the entirety of your visit
You fascinated him
You made no disgusted or terrified remarks when seeing his creations, instead viewing them with almost alarming indifference and… fascination
“Is that a plane propeller on that thing? Where did you get it? Can it spin? Can it fly? Is it supposed to be walking into a wall?”
He had to admit, it was nice having someone curious about his experiments
When he absentmindedly moved a large sheet of metal with his mind to clear the way, he didn’t miss the glee in your eyes
You visited with increasing frequency after that, calling them “work trips”
In reality, it was just an excuse to spend more time with Heisenberg
And see his very cool powers
Heisenberg loved the attention, and he teased you constantly
“The tough agent, reduced to a kid in a candy store after seeing my metal junk!”
He knew a thing or two about building walls around yourself, so he was happy to see you relax around him
He didn’t know what you did before, but with the amount of scars you had he knew it was more than just “government work”
Heisenberg made sure to leave you little trinkets he made, giving out the occasional compliment
“Hey, you don’t look like a stuck-up modern asshole today! Congratulations.”
“I made this bird out of spoons. I was bored and it’s worthless to me so, here.”
You love it, you love him, and he knows it
You still looked a little scary sometimes, though
This is for my two remaining followers and for whatever stinky garbage children still scrounge around for RE8 scraps.
this is my first time requesting after years, just like the old times.
so, alcina dimitrescu needs to learn how to patient because her wife (reader is an immortal biologist) is urgently need by mother miranda for cadou shit. the only communication they had is the old phone but reader is the one who must call alcina due to her limited time. if the first call rang and alcina missed it, it will never rang again.
the phone is static and barely audible which alcina's patience is wearing thin. she just needs her wife🥹🥺
HOW ARE YOU BESTIE!
Static
A/N: Hello guys! how are you? I hope you're all well💙 I'm so excited to post this, especially since it was requested by my dear friend, a long-time friend! I truly cherish the friendships I build here, a precious thing I value immensely, and besides that, I respect and I am very inspired by Aya's work, you are my muse! (PS: I still haven't forgiven you enough for deleting that story that I loved more than anything... hmph😭). enjoy it, baby girl! thank you for requesting 🐻❄️ྀིྀི
Plot: Alcina Dimitrescu has never been a patient woman, until a phone line that only works once forces her to become one.
The phone had been useless for three days.
Not broken, worse than broken. Alive, technically. A dial tone if you pressed it to your ear and listened hard enough, buried under so much white noise it might as well have been silence. Alcina Dimitrescu had smashed one already, the first time you'd been gone, when Mother Miranda's courier arrived with nothing but a folded note and no explanation for why her wife had been summoned like a servant instead of a woman who ran a house of her own. The pieces of that first phone were still somewhere in the receiving hall, swept into a corner, because none of the girls had dared clean them up and she hadn't asked them to.
She had not smashed the second one. She had learned, in her own graceless way, to wait.
It did not suit her at all.
She sat at her vanity with her hands flat on the glass, looking at the phone beside the perfume bottles as though staring would make it ring sooner. The candles had burned low enough that her reflection had gone strange and doubled in the mirror, and she hadn't called for more. Daniela had stopped bringing her tea an hour ago, after the second time Alcina had looked at her like being interrupted in her waiting was a personal insult. Bela had taken Cassandra and Daniela out hunting, the way she always did when she wanted to give her mother a moment alone. After the hunting, Bela alone had approached, curled in the doorway like a cat, watching her mother with the particular patience of someone who has seen this exact kind of waiting before and knows better than to name it out loud.
"She will call.." Bela said, not for the first time.
"I know that." Alcina said, too fast, too sharp, in the voice she used on soldiers who asked questions they already knew the answers to.
Cassandra didn't flinch. She never did anymore.
Alcina didn't say anything more than that. She turned the phone an inch to the left, as if angle mattered, as if anything about this ancient, Miranda blessed piece of junk could be improved by her touching it. Somewhere in the walls the house made its low settling noises, wood and stone breathing the way it always did at night, and every one of them made her hand twitch toward the receiver before she caught herself. She was too old, too tall, too used to being feared, to be sitting like this, folded in on herself, waiting on a sound.
You had told her, before you left, that the connection only worked once. That whatever Miranda had done to the line, some old, ugly magic stitched into copper and static it would carry a single call through, and if it rang and went unanswered, it would not ring again. Not that day. Not that week. However long it took for whatever process kept you tethered to this world to circle back around and give you one more chance to reach her.
One call, you'd said, holding both her hands in yours at the gate, your bag already over your shoulder. So please, for once in your life, be patient.
She was not, by nature, a patient woman. She had built an empire out of not waiting for things, for permission, for respect, for anyone to tell her no twice. But she had learned, somewhere in the years since you'd first stood your ground in her receiving hall and refused to be afraid of her, that there were exceptions worth making. That patience, when it was for you, was not weakness. It only felt like it, in the hours it demanded of her.
The phone rang at half past two in the morning.
She had it against her ear before the second ring finished.
"Alcina." Your voice came through a wall of static so thick it barely sounded like a voice at all, thin and warping, cutting in and out like something dragged underwater. "Alcina, can you—"
"I'm here." She said it too loud. She didn't care. Cassandra had already gone still in the doorway, watching. "I'm here, I'm listening, say it again—"
"—hear me? I don't know how long—" The line hissed, swallowed half your sentence whole, spat you back out mid-word. "Miranda needs the samples from the east wing, the ones in the— the cold storage, she needs them before the equinox or the whole cadou line collapses, I need you to…"
"Slower." Her knuckles had gone white around the receiver, the wood of the vanity creaking faintly under her other hand. "You're breaking up. Say it slower."
"—can't, I don't have…. Alcina, I don't have long on this line, please just listen…"
And she did. God help her, she did, she who had never in her life simply listened to anyone, who interrupted kings and any lord by fun, sometimes Miranda herself when she felt brave enough, sat perfectly still with her eyes shut and let your broken, static-drowned voice wash over her in pieces, catching words like they were coins falling through her fingers. Cold storage. East wing. Before the equinox.
"I'm here." she said again, softer this time, the way she never let anyone hear. "I'm here. I have it. I have all of it."
Silence. Not the static kind, a different silence. Her hand tightened so hard on the receiver that Cassandra actually rose from the doorway, alarmed, before Alcina waved her back down without opening her eyes.
Then, faint, unbearably faint, almost lost under the hiss: "I miss you."
Something in Alcina Dimitrescu's chest, something that had been clenched since the first ruined phone, unclenched all at once, so suddenly it nearly hurt.
"I miss you more than is dignified…" she said, and her voice cracked on the last word in a way she would have denied to anyone but you. "Come home. Whatever she wants from you, get it done and come home, do you understand me?"
"—trying. I'm trying, I—"
The static rose, a wave of it, drowning your voice syllable by syllable. She pressed the receiver so hard against her ear it left a mark. "Say that again. Say it again, I didn't…"
The line went dead in her hand, and this time it stayed dead. No dial tone, no hiss, nothing at all. The single call spent, gone, exactly the way you'd warned her it would go.
Alcina sat with the receiver still pressed to her ear for a long moment after there was nothing left to hear, long enough that Cassandra finally crossed the room and gently, carefully, took it from her hand and set it back in its cradle herself.
"Mother."
Alcina didn't answer right away. She was looking at the door, or past it, at the long dark hall and the stairs down to the east wing, already counting the steps to the cold storage in her head.
Then she stood, hands that were not quite steady, and her voice came back sharp and commanding, closer to itself than it had sounded in three days.
"Fetch Bela. Tell her to leave whatever she's doing, we have samples to prepare, and I will not have my wife come home to find this house has failed her."
Cassandra almost smiled. "So you were listening."
"I am always listening," Alcina said, already moving, already half a corridor ahead of her own daughter. "I simply choose, most days, not to act like it matters to me."
Behind her, the phone sat silent and dark on the vanity, useless now, nothing left in it but the shape of your voice still ringing somewhere behind her eyes. There was an equinox to beat and a wife to bring home, and for the first time in three days, Alcina Dimitrescu finally had something to do with her hands besides wait.
The house woke up in a way it hadn't in three days.
Bela arrived within minutes, hair still damp, boots not even properly laced, face still flushed from the hunt, and took one look at her mother's face before she stopped asking questions and started giving orders of her own. Daniela was sent for lanterns. Cassandra didn't wait to be told anything, she was already halfway down the east stairwell by the time Alcina reached the landing, calling back over her shoulder that the cold storage locks hadn't been touched since autumn and would need oil before they'd turn.
"Then find the goddamn oil!" Alcina said, and didn't slow down.
The east wing at that hour was colder than the rest of the house, so bitter only Alcina could go there, and as she worked her way into it, she kept thinking that she had not touched the cadou samples herself in years, that had always been your work, your careful hands and your careful notes, jars labeled in your small, precise handwriting that she'd never admit to reading over sometimes, alone, when the house was too quiet. Now she stood in front of the same shelves and had to think, actually think, to remember which markings meant which strain, which vials could bear the cold of the carriage ride and which would spoil before they ever reached Miranda's hands.
"This one…" She remembered the description you'd told her as she held a jar up to the light, "she'd have flagged this one for discard. Look, the color's wrong."
It took the better part of two hours. By the end of it Daniela had gone twice to check the road from the east tower, twice come back with nothing to report, and the third time she went Alcina found herself following, unable to stay in the cold storage a moment longer once the last case had been sealed and there was nothing left to do with her hands.
The night was clear. Cold, but clear, the kind of sky that made the stars look closer than they had any right to be, and from the tower she could see the road unwinding pale in the dark all the way down toward the tree line. Nothing moved on it. She stood there long enough that Daniela quietly stopped hovering at her elbow and went to find Cassandra instead, leaving her mother alone with the view.
Come home, she had said. As if it were that simple. As if saying it into a dying phone line could make the road produce you any faster.
She did not know, afterward, how long she stood there. Long enough that the cold stopped registering. Long enough that when the first sound finally came, wheels, faint, and then the particular creak of Miranda's carriages, a sound she'd have known anywhere after all these years, she almost didn't trust her own ears.
Then she saw it. A shape on the road, dark against dark, moving.
"Finally!" Her voice cracked through the tower like a whip crack, and within seconds all three of her daughters were at the window beside her, no longer pretending patience, no longer pretending anything at all.
"That's her," Daniela breathed. "That's her carriage!"
The girls were already moving before she finished speaking, down the tower stairs in a rush of movements and a flutter of wings from sheer excitement, Daniela laughing about something Bela said, Cassandra outpacing them both without seeming to try. Alcina stayed at the window a moment longer, watching the carriage grow from a shape into a shadow into something almost real, something with edges, something that was, finally, finally, coming up the last stretch of road toward the gate.
She let out a breath she felt she'd been holding since the phone rang three nights ago. It came out unsteady, more like a shudder than a sigh, and she pressed one hand flat against the cold stone of the windowsill as if the wall itself might hold her upright a moment longer.
Then she moved.
Alcina did not run, had not run in longer than she cared to remember, had built an entire life out of the principle that she arrived when she chose to arrive and never a moment before. But her steps down the stairs were faster than dignity strictly allowed, faster than she'd have permitted herself in front of anyone but you, and by the time she crossed the receiving hall the girls were already spilling out through the front doors ahead of her into the cold night air, lanterns swinging, voices rising over each other.
The carriage came to a stop just inside the gate. The door hadn't even fully opened before Daniela was at it, before Bela was calling something about the samples being ready, before Cassandra hung back just enough to let her sisters have the moment first, the way she always did.
And there, stepping down, tired, travel worn, achingly real after three days of static and silence and a phone gone dark on a vanity, there you were.
Alcina stopped at the top of the steps for exactly one heartbeat. Long enough to look at you. Long enough to let herself believe it.
Then she came down them the rest of the way, past her daughters, past everything, and pulled you into her arms like she meant to make up for three days of not being able to in a single embrace, one hand at the back of your head, the other locked around your waist, her face buried against your hair as though she could will herself to stop shaking simply by holding on hard enough.
"You're late…" she said, voice rough, muffled, nowhere near as steady as she wanted it to be.
You laughed, tired and a little broken, and felt her arms tighten in answer. "I know. I'm sorry."
"Don't." Alcina pulled back only far enough to look at you properly, hands framing your face like she needed to check, needed to be sure, that you were whole and unbroken and truly here. "Don't you dare apologize to me. Just." She stopped. Swallowed. Pressed her forehead to yours instead of finishing the sentence, because some things, even now, she couldn't quite say out loud in front of an audience.
Just don't leave again, she meant. Just stay.
Behind them, Daniela was already talking too fast about the cold storage, Cassandra was rolling her eyes fondly at her, and Bela stood a little apart with the particular quiet satisfaction of someone who had been right all along, she will call, she will come home, and had known it the whole time.
You reached up and covered one of Alcina's hands with your own, still cold from the road, and she held on like she had no intention of ever letting go again.
Sunday Poll: Lady Dimitrescu / Sex Worker Reader | Multifandom
Your body is given to Lady D to fufill a debt. But what if you've already resound yourself to oblivion and instead found a pair of breasts you'd like to die in.
Warning : ⚠️ Dead Dove 🕊️ Don’t Eat / Blood and Major Gore / Vampire / Big Lady Kink / Tenticle Kink / Tongue Kink / Reader Body Gore/ Primal - Prey Kink / Pain and Pleasure / Lady D's Claws / Religious Kink / Mother Miranda Lore / Daughter Bugs Mentioned / The Village Resident Evil / Castle is a Maze / Oral sex / Sex Worker Slurs / Vivid Cuts / Not good use of rosary beads / 5k words? NOT SANE / Breast Gore / Smothering Kink / Reader is Ready to Die / 18+
Your hand held an ink black beaded rosary, you shivered from the water that was still dripping from your hair.
Upon your arrival to this haunted home you had been driven nearly to frost bite. As a maid who did not introduce herself stripped you of your dress upon arrival. Not caring of your decency but ridding you of the stained fabric, the traces of ugly blood stains and evidence of men's enjoyment of you.
Your face and body may have been stripped of the dirt, but just like a horrible memory, under your fingernails were still dark with dried blood and dirt.
Just as your soul would never be clean.
You stated at your surroundings, your nipples hard from the violent cleaning.
You had been transported from the village. Where you had worked in the oldest living profession.
Was this what your mother had wanted for you, no.
Did you love being taken in the dark by men who smelled of booze and adultery.
No, but you’d been saving money. And making it a hell of a lot faster than being some barmaid.
But your stupid brother (well, half brother) had fallen into a gambling debt, and without parents - it seemed his burdens were yours.
Even though you had never been at the card table, somehow you had been gifted like a workhorse to settle his large charge.
That’s how you were brought to the castle.
At first you thought like so many others that you were to be worked to the bone as a maid. Then killed in whatever mysterious way made all those young women go missing.
But once the brutal cold gave it’s final kiss to the back of your bare ass, and you’d been dropped into the foyer on the castle.
You were no longer sure what you were here to do.
The dampness from your rough bathing made your skin seem to glow in the dim light.
Engulfed in it’s heat, large fireplaces booming with life. Light casting shadows on clawfoot lounge french furniture around you. The kind of high end items that demanded to be looked at but not touched by the likes of you.
You were sure that whatever life in the village, was far behind you.
That whatever awaited you in the castle, this was to be your final act.
You just prayed it was a quick end.
You were not born in the village, not like your half-brother.
Your mother had taken you far away from this place as an infant. Many people had commented on how it showed, that you were never aware of their ways.
Your still damp feet seemed such a stark contrast to the marble floor, as you tiptoed deeper inside.
Small puddles trailing behind you in the shape of footprints.
You couldn’t help but wonder when someone would pop out and slit your throat.
Just because you hadn’t been raised with the superstitious folk below this intimidating castle…it didn’t mean your mother had not spoken the lore.
The large woman with her monstrous form, her hunger. Her sickly sink and horrible temper. Her three daughters and their scythes and bugs. Could the stories be true? Or was it just folktails to make you eat your vegetables and make good decisions?
Good decisions was something you’d give up long ago.
You held the rosary closer. It had been the only object you’d been able to keep.
You’d love to consider it silly that in your final moments the beaded rosary in your hand gave comfort. Just as your mother had hoped it would.
You felt in the shadows of your fate to be a hypocrite, holding the rosary.
You did not hold the beads with the intentions to pray to Christ, or even Mother Mary.
No, you were raised to pray to a very different mother.
Now you pondered if this was the day you’d meet your ‘creator’ the great and powerful Mother Miranda.
You stepped closer into the room, careful not to touch the enormous carpet.
A bead of water dropped from the tip of your hair down your spine and then over the curve of your bare ass.
Your shoulders squared, not embarrassed by what you were or why you were here.
You had lost prudish things many years ago.
Your thumb pinched the round bead into your pointer finger so hard it would leave a mark.
You gave another three steps into the room. With its velvet drapes, its gold leafing and vast paintings.
You found no beauty in any of it.
One more step inside, you tried not to linger on the doors, the possible exits.
You did not pray, didn’t utter Mother Miranda's name in this space.
Bt the further time ticked on, and no one came out to speak to you, the longer you were sure you were in a game.
A game you had never been prepared for. Did not understand the rules to.
You twist around to see if your ears were betraying you, or if someone might be behind you, stalking you, watching you.
You look up the grand stair cases that curl with their old wood up to the next level.
Do you dare to go up?
Do you leave?
You wouldn’t survive, your damp hair and that snow would surely take your toes before you made it out of the strange gardens.
You fist the rosary, and bring your body into the middle of the vast space. It’s ceiling higher than you’d ever seen.
You wait.
Another bit of water runs down the underside of your breast, down your stomach, then drops onto the marble floor.
“I didn’t know prostitutes carried rosary beads.” A melodious, silky woman's voice rang out from the top floor. It was too easy, how she could break the silence.
Your knees buckled and you tried to lok up to find her.
You were quiet for another moment, but you figured if this was the end of your life you might as well speak.
“They were my mothers.”
“Yes, that emblem, at the end, Mother Miranda. Here I thought you were new in this land.” The owner of the house spoke with such certainty, you’d never heard anyone take up space like this before.
You back up and curl your head to the left to see if you could find where the noise was coming from.
“I-I, I mean, are you M-mother Miranda?” You question, not really sure what was story and what was fact.
A booming chuckle could be heard, it started deep and then ended flittering a lady like.
“My, my no, I must say - I had hoped for a virgin. You would have been a devine addition, but you’ve been soiled by some village man things.” The merciless voice now spoke as though she was talking to herself about you, not to you anymore.
Your rosary beads are held tightly as they cast a long skinny shadow onto the ground.
You try to keep your breathing even, show no fear.
“You are a curious little thing.”
“If this is my end, may I make a request?” You dare to try, figring if you don’t ask, you won’t get.
“Let’s here it?” Her tone is more monotone, but there’s a hint of curiosity.
“Make it monstrous.” You say, and this is met with silence.
Graveyard type of silence that promised to last forever.
It stretched on until a nine foot tall figure came down the steps, materializing like a lady - not a beast in front of you.
Her long brimmed hat made it look as though she was in ‘My Fair Lady,’ about to go to see some horse race. Not slaughter a naked prostitute on her pretty manor floor.
But as she practically floated down the stairs it was close to angelic, the lady was in no rush. Your eyes couldn’t stop finding her clevage. As nothing you’d ever seen came close. Her breasts were alluring, commanding your mind eve.
You swallowed the excess saliva in your mouth, not wanting to allow your mind to go there.
When the devilish woman came to the bottom of the stairs you fought that her height was positively intimidating.
“Now of all my years, I’m quiet sure no one has ever given such a wish.” She tells you and you are convinced now with that cream dress about to burst from her boobs.
That this is not Mother Miranda.
“If it’s my end, I feel that I might be granted it?” You couldn’t help but change your own vocabulary in front of this woman.
Who’s dark lips curled in delight, seeming to notice how you straightened your spine and changed your speech patterns.
The tall Lady of the manor let out a long breath through her nose as she decided if this was interesting or if you were wasting her time.
“Monstrous?” She repeated, and you thought of all the legends, of the lore, of the fairytale turned to monsters who savaged young ladies.
“If this is how I die, I want to go out in an intresting way, not like the other girls who work in the village. From cold, from illness, from boredom, if you’re going to murder me - I want it to be intresting.” You shrug one shoulder, your breast bounces in the action and the giant ladys eyeline follows the movement and then resumes studying your face.
You don’t know why but you feel as though that is a clue that you don’t understand.
“You stand in my home dripping wet and nude, and you want to go out with a…bang?” The ninefoot woman towering over you is really making sure you know what you are requesting, there’s a glint in her eyes that seems to not allow herself to enjoy whatever you are instructing.
“Exactly.” You nod once, as her dark eyes size you up, all the way down to your toes then back up to the top of your wet hair.
“You are unquestionably not from around here,” The brim of her hat casts back as the woman seems to settle in her spot.
“So you’ll allow me this last-”
“I’ve allowed you a rosary, what makes you think I would deny you such a last rite? You think me monstrous in every way then?”
You panic, and not from fear of violence but of offending such a gorgeous creature that cannot be found anywhere but the walls of this castle.
“NO!” You shout too rudely causing her to arch an eyebrow comically high. But you shake your head and try to smooth it over. “I don’t find you monstrous, I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever- I don’t mean to offend. You are clearly stunning!” You compliment rushed, but positive that you mean every word.
Now the lady risks as though lies will get you nowhere.
“I mean it, I mean you must own a mirror?” It’s flirtatious but your zoned in face clearly makes it so the Lady of the manor knows you aren’t simply kissing ass to safe your hide.
You knew your hide was about to be skinned, and yet you still were complimenting her.
The dark eyes that hold you are all consuming, as she takes the brim of her large hat and places it on the corner of the armchair to your left. Her long arms making it effortless even though it’s clearly far from your body.
Speaking of shadows, hers could eclipse the very thought of you in this space.
“Child of Mother Miranda, do you know who’s home you are groveling in?”
The large womans dark curls are so classic, she’s gorgeous in that timeless way.
“No, my lady.” You say back,, ignoring the idea that you were groveling. With your bottom lip still, your spine straight, and your eyes meeting the intimidating being in front of you.
You were clearly not groveling.
“This is my castle you stand in, I am one of Mother Miranda’s most favorite, part of her family, her council. You may have heard of me, they call me Lady Dimitrescu.”
Your eyes must have doubled in size, because yes - you’d heard of her. But no one had ever called her beautiful. The mention of blood drinking, long talons that slice muscle to shreds, and that bottle the virgins essence.
Those stories were coming in quickly.
The bug daughters were the least of your worries. You were in the den of the biggest predator.
“Lady Demit-escrew?” You stumble on the name, which is silly, but something about being in front of her made you stutter and lose your poise.
The biggest lips you ever saw curled in enjoyment.
“You can call me Alcina.”
Now you were practically making heart eyes at this murderous siren.
“Alcina.” You say back, but the adoring way you did it made the large vampire seem untrusting.
“Why do you say it like a lover?” She scowls as though you are lying.
“Sorry, I mean Alcina you’re just…wow.”
You were thrown off guard as Alcina’s laugh was more carefree now, more of a flitter as she covered her mouth like a young blushing bride.
“You are a strange little human.” Lady D practically giggles at you.
You look down at your barefeet, your kees shaking slightly for a very different reason now.
“I hope that’s a good change of pace?” You try again, though now with the intention of getting her to laugh again, to get her to keep smiling like that.
Alcina’s chin moves up, but her smile doesn’t drop.
“You stand in front of me, bare and violated. Shivering in the castle that has more babes' blood than a cemetery, resound to your fate of death…and you wish to hold me in such banter like we are in a garden getting acquainted?” Lady D’s explanation of you hitting on her only made you grin harder.
“I see no better time to enjoy beauty than on the steps of my demise.” You really don’t know where this bravado was coming from. But if anyone was gonna kill you, you hoped she’d do it. Preferably from the weight of her boobies on your face.
You blush, heat rising to your ears, but you stand uncompromised.
Alcina dropped her niceties and studied the places on your body that scarring had healed over. Proof of your job, but also your cruel last five years, the intensity of sex, money, dead family, and overall violent acts.
“You have lived a life of hardship.” Lady Dimitrescu summarized, though it wasn’t pity or even empathy. Rather a sort of fleeting thought on your character, she didn’t seem to look down on you for it.
You’d have thought less of her if she had.
“Times are cruel, I like to think I survived.” You pinch your shoulders back even further, pride earned.
Lady D’s gaze turned to the fire burning in the fireplace, then to the window that had heavy curtains hiding the light, though it peaked out of the crack between the velvet.
As though she was making her decision and just checking the clocks.
Then her dark red lips moved faster than you were ready to follow.
“I’ll tell you what little fighter. I’m going to give you a chance I have only ever given one other soul. But I find you rather intriguing, and I do not enjoy squashing such a fascinating bug. You run, and run fast, and we’ll see if you can last. How does that sound?”
You are confused and your face displays that, you chew on your lip but ask;
“Like hide and seek?”
“Not exactly, but I will follow that idea - I’ll allow you a head start. First round I’ll even keep it…less monstrous. How does that sound?”
You feel like it’s a trick question, but it’s rhetorical and Alcina’s gaze moves up and just at that second the longcase antique grandfather clock upstairs chimes. Telling you the time, and working as your pistol at the start of the race.
You eye Alcina one more moment, not sure why you would run from such a sensual woman.
But she see’s your hesitation and helps by letting fear coat the game, her hand goes from closed to open, then the lore of her claws becomes your reality.
Her five foot long claws gleam in the light and you almost fall on your ass from the sight.
But your feet squeak and you slip on a bit of water before running as fast as you could past the vases towards the front door. You grab the heavy doorknob and it doesn’t budge.
“Now that’s cheating!” The siren’s voice is no longer just seductive, but now it’s the melodoious tone of the thing hunting you.
Your running back to the main foye then turning to go down steps. You hear Alcina’s heels click heavily on the floor and you turn around to find three doors.
You panic opening the middle door and quickly becoming lost, but you bind up the steps, unsure of what level of the house you started on, or how many up or below there were.
But the blood pumps in your ears, your addrenaline not aiding you as much as your barfeet do.
You hate that you make thudding noises at how fear makes you drive your legs harder. Not as quiet as a mouse, but closer to the barreling of an elephants footfall.
You open doors you don’t know what will be the other side, wondering if the daughters woud be behind one, you find a kitchen, unsure when you’d bound down stairs to get to this level.
There’s no staff, and you can see light from a window with no opening; they must have left for the night.
Not that you would get aid from them hiding you.
Besides, Alcina had said you were cheating once, you feared what would happen if you did it twice.
You see bottles of wine corked with labels, as you lean forward to read a name.
You see a reflection in the top of the dark red - a silhouette that towers over you.
You twist around just in time to hear her laugh.
She slashes across your chest - not deep enough to kill you, but enough to puncture your skin and let long wounds blossom red.
It appeared like a beast would claw at it’s meal.
Five long ribbons of your skin now open, Alcina beamed at the sight - like she’d marked you as hers.
But instead of ending the game here and having her meal.
Lady Dimitrescu claws shook as she inhaled the smell of you.
Closing her eyes in delight, you couldn’t be sure if it was her way of playing with her food. Or if it made tracking you easier, you never imagined that it was a possessive display.
You backed up, the wine blood bottle getting bumped off the table, falling neck side down and shattering, causing Alcina to growl irritated.
The sound making you wet, yeah clearly you were going to need to think about why that was later.
But as you tried to stalk backwards away from the razor blades that had just sliced you.
You stepped your heel right into the broken glass, you quickly tried to take the weight off.
But neither the pain from the incisions that Alcina had produced or the foot pain reached your mind yet.
Adrenaline pumping through your body the only sensation you could taste at this point.
Alcina’s non-clawed hand reaches out to stop you from stepping back, but you don’t notice as you reach down to rip the bit of the bottle out of your foot.
Causing blood from your bleeding breasts to drip down onto the bloody wine.
Alcina hisses with desire too strong to allow her the luxury of foreplay, as she reaches out again, but you stagger backwards, losing your balance.
You see a small light and the option of a crawl space down to what you feared might be a cellar.
You push the table in Alcina’s direction and then sprint towards the steps up. Choosing door number one where the light came through.
Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t easily evaded, as her claws had reached out.
Sliding across your right ass cheek just enough to scratch but not enough to cause the amount of bleeding coming off your chest down your stomach.
You were losing blood quickly, but your heart was racing, and you felt as though this was the game of your life.
You feel something sharp and realize your body must be screaming, but you can’t identify which part of your wounds are catching up to you.
You wrench open a door and hear Alcina from below bellow up.
“ROUND ONE IS DONE! NEXT TIME I WILL NOT BE SO LENIENT!” Her voice is blood-curdling and you hate that you smile at the threat. Feeling more alive then ever before.
You go up two levels, then around a staircase, running by old oil paintings, priceless antiques, vases and tapestries.
The castle didn’t seem to have an end, every door had two more options, every staircase led to another level you had not seen yet.
Until you come to a room, with the largest bed you have ever seen, it’s dark wallpaper, broodingly large furniture, it smells of fancy perfumes from faraway lands. You walked further into the bedroom, hoping stupidly that it was Alcina’s.
Two large hooks hang from the ceiling, blood and dead tissue dangled from one of the rusty chains.
You tried to ignore that fact, as you walked around the room, eyes straining to make out every painting, as it was lit only by a dying fire.
You stopped, your palm carefully placing over the bloody streaks across your chest, and you flinch in pain of your own touch. You stare down at your hands now covered in bright red blood.
The sound of wood creaking from a giant force has you spinning around the room to hide. Eyeing the bed, you fall to the ground and scoot under the bedframe.
Your foot almost stops under the bedframe, you twist it to the side and hide underneath the mattress, holding your bloody hand over your face.
Alcina bursts through the door, she’s breathing heavy and sounds strained. As though this was the best part of her year. This was her marathon, but as her hand grasped the white, pristine door, she calmed instantly.
“You run and hide better than any silly village girl, that’s for sure.” Lady Dimitrescu says as she works to catch her breath.
You smell the metallic engulfing your senses as pain starts to catch up with you.
The red proof of Alcina’s blow stars to pool under your body out towards the edge of the bedframe.
You are afraid of the bit of lightheadedness that is attempting to cloud you.
You can see her heels, and the edge of her dress, but the noise is what clearly demonstrates your fate.
A sound of the door shutting and the click of a key in a lock.
You have picked poorly.
“For a whore you taste far more delicious than any virgin I’ve had,” Alcina tells you wetly, a sort of slurping noise, making it clear that she’s licking her own claws clean.
You hold your hand over your mouth to try and stop the sound of your breath. If only you could get your heart to stop being so loud in your chest.
Alcina’s heels moved towards the bed, but instead of throwing the mattress across the room and stringing you up onto the meat hooks.
She twisted towards the door and sat down.
You held your breath as the weight of her as to the right of your shoulder.
She wasn’t pinning you, just near you, as the noise of her jewelry being taken off rattled you.
Each noise was as loud as alarm bells.
“It’s been so long since I found any morsel so intellectually stimulating. Besides dear Mother Miranda, I have been so very directionless.” Alcina set her necklace and earrings down on the side table with a clinking noise.
“You will, of course, forgive a lady of my caliber for not having better table manners, but alas. I’ve given more foreplay than I can stand.” Her voice curled like poison in a vile at the end as she had found the foot of the bed, grabbing your wounded foot in her grasp.
You don’t mean to scream, but you’re sure she’s crunched the bone as she yanks you like a horror movie out from under the bed.
Holding you up like a fish, you’re upside down as she’s got your leg in a tight grip.
You aren’t crying, but the blood that sliced your breasts, opening your left nipple, now drips towards your face.
Alcina studies the red handprint across your mouth, as you had tried so desperately not to give away your position under the bed.
“You know I almost wish to tell my maids not to clean up your adorable little footprints.” Alcina holds you higher and twists you so that you spin to see the footprints of your bloody heel all around the room.
You didn’t have a chance; you marked every single step you’d taken.
You close your eyes in defeat, sure you would die quick.
“Next time I’ll make sure to show you my true form.” Alcina giggles manicly and your eyes shoot open in confusion.
But Alcina tosses your body on the bed, and you wince in pain as she quickly unzips the back of her dress, stepping out of it with her corset and silky slip.
Your legs start to scramble back, figuring that your monster simply didn’t want to get her dress ruined.
But Alcina makes an annoyed noise and then grabs both of your ankles to stop you from moving. Her left hand is holding something tight in her palm that you don’t notice.
“Easy, my morsel, I won, now you’ll allow me my pound of flesh.” Her canines seem bigger now, though Lady Dimitrescu doesn’t continue undressing but you can see far more of her cleavage now and you’re sure that’s where you want to put your face forever.
“Al-lcina-” You shiver as you watch her climb onto the giant bed, it creaks nder her weight. But you don’t have time to wonder where she’ll drink from first.
Because her eyes burrow into your own, then her jaw drops, and instead of those pretty canines. You witness her dark purple tongue, that of an animal, or something sickly.
Then it rolls out, longer and longer, less like a tongue and more like….a slick tentacle.
Your thigh muscle strain, as your fight of flight isn’t sure what to make of this.
But Alcina’s true monster form must have…wet tentacles? Because the pointed tip wetly slides from your calf to the underside of your knee. Tasting your hamstring like it was…well ham.
“A-Alcina?” You question, not sure if you're more scared or aroused at being pinned and seeing clear down her corset.
A bit of the slug-like piece of Alcina slithers towards your cunt, blood coating it.
The tentacle moves back into the vampire's jaws, as she slowly releases one of her limbs. She swallows the blood as Lady Dimitrescu displays great self-restraint to not rip your throat out as she gets another mouthful of your blood.
Her left hand opening, stringing the rosary in front of your face. The end of it tickles your bloody stomach. As you sharply inhale, more blood rolls down your ribcage and onto the silk sheets of Lady Dimitrescu's bed.
“You dropped something,” Alcina smirks and she lets the small beads dance in and out of your bellybutton. It tickles, if you could focus on just that. Not the amazing amount of blood loss.
It feels so dirty to use the beads in such a sinful way…if you could believe in such a thing.
You fidget just a smidge. Your ass cheek against the soft bed burned almost as much as the gaping wound across your chest.
You made sure your voice was strong;
“Ooops,” you tease back. Remembering your desire to die by a monstrous proportion.
Alcina grins but pushes the rosary beads towards your lips.
“Hold it for me, and pray. I want to hear you pray.” Alcina instructs and you hesitate before letting your bottom lip slowly pull down.
Lady Dimitrescu likes that and makes an approving noise as your teeth capture the dark beads that once hung by your mothers bedside.
“Pray.” She repeats and you find the memories of the words;
“Great ones,-” You start, and the vampire opens her jaw once more and the long tentacle makes wet noises as it sludges out of her mouth, longer than before. Lady Dimitrescu in her corset, lets her monster form only in her mouth. It caresses the space next to your lips, then it leaves a wet trail falling down your chin. Down your bloody neck, smearing the blood down your open wounds, as you make sure not to mumble.
“H-hear our voice, together as one in reverence. We call on thee within the endless dark to deliver us into f-” You stop as Lady Dimitrescu’s slimy friend has moved to your cunt.
You gasp and almost drop the rosary beads in your moan at the wet tentacle pushing into your cunt. The tip is already stretching you bigger than any stupid man in an alley.
Lady D is going to make you cum, she’s going to make you fucking cum.
But her hands grab at your thighs too hard, reminding you to keep going - keep praying. So you try to focus, as the agony mixed with arousal.
“into f-into fate's hands. As the midnight moon rises on black wings, so we make our sacrifice and await the light at the end. In life and in death, glory to Mother Miranda". You say the prayer like a good little girl. As Lady Dimitrescu fucks you deeper than any whore in the village would ever be stretched.
Her slime drips down your labia and mixes with your own cum.
You shiver and your toes curl as you feel Alcina reach her destination, your womb, but she doesn’t stop trying to stuff her tentacle tongue into you.
Wanting to make sure not a bit of her long sex limb would fill you up, make your stomach bulge.
Like a god damn rope she keeps filling your insides. You can’t hold it all, but the wet squelching noises keep filling the room. As more of her fills you.
You understand now, so much deeper than you ever have before, you practically see Mother Miranda when you close your eyes. So you start again, just as Alcina wants you to.
“Great ones,-” You start the prayer again as Alcina is beginning to lose her mind with a sort of feeding frenzy desire.
Your teeth clench on the rosary beads as the end of it rests against your cuts.
The vampire grabs at your ripped chest, her manicured fingers digging into your wounds like you’ve always belonged to her.
For the rest of your days, Lady D would fulfill her promise. She would make it monstrous.
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