A Night with Ms.Bellum | By : Honey-on-toast Category: +M through R > PowerPuff Girls Views: 5464 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own The PowerPuff Girls show or it's characters. This work is purely fan work and no money is made from this at all. |
Part One
Bellum's POV
As a woman who is consistently swept into the fiercely tight grip of responsibility, it can be hard to find some wiggle room for leisure. I recall a day when the doctor even warned me of the high pressures I was putting myself through, some essentially bound to the nature of my work, some admittedly unnecessary (but what do you expect from a workaholic who shuns procrastination?). The gentleman, with well meaning I'm sure, urged me to take more days off in the future, to detach myself from the hectic world I had been embedded in for so many years, before I put myself into an early grave. It was certainly a jolt to my senses, coming to terms with my own mortality, my eventual end. It was perhaps one of the lowest points I had ever felt in my life.
I finished up late at the office, the appointment having done a number on my focus. I was even more hesitant to step outside, after a loud bang and growl announced a terrible thunderstorm, which would be unveiled as I drew back the curtain to my workspace. I surrendered. The last of the documents would have to wait till morning.
Hurriedly, I made for my motorcycle, after strapping on my biking gear, soon washed with messy shimmers of street lights, as I dashed out into the parking area. The ride home was thankfully simple. Proceeding on towards midnight, the roads were almost dead and I made a speedy trip home.
As I pulled up outside my drive, I noticed a familiar figure upon my doorstep. At first, I had thought a stray feline had wondered onto my property and taken rest under the shelter of my front doorway. Then, Buttercup's head lifted and her eyes met with mine in an instant. Soaked through to the bone, she had squatted and sat on the cold tiles, clutching a drooping flower. It appeared that as soon as I made myself present, her world appeared to light up: her face, previously low and tainted by some apparent hopelessness, had now beamed with some shed of delight and joy. Although she wasn't smiling, I could see the happiness of my arrival in her eyes. Those wide eyes filled to the brim with excitement.
Removing my helmet, we trapped one another in a gaze, although silent, spoke a thousand words. Then, without so much as a peep, I opened up the door and led her inside.
Doesn't matter how long it's been since I stopped using those 'top-up' metres after I had left home and went on to proper central heating, I always feel grateful coming home to a wall of gentle heat, especially if it's been snowing or raining. The tapping of the worsening weather on the tarmac cancelled out, as I closed the door to my cushy home and hung my coat up. As I turned to my guest, I was surprised that, along with the annihilated specimen with only a few petals remaining, she presented me bashfully with a pink card. A valentine.
As she gazed up at me hopefully, I sensed some fear in her gesture: holding up the envelope, having gone unscathed by the rain by nothing short of a miracle, I saw that as I was drinking in the information, perhaps a tad too long, she began to tremble. Saving her from humiliation and any shed of tears, I gently plucked the card from her dripping paws. The darling had attempted cursive, but had only gotten so far before it had deteriorated into a childish squiggle at the end, clearly having lost her patience.
I guess love really is blind, because despite that the efforts had failed and I was looking upon a mess that would otherwise have been my surname, It was the effort in itself alone that charmed me and I smiled. Before I released her from the anticipation of opening the letter, I placed it upon the coffee table for later viewing.
"Bellum" she muttered, her gruff rasp silent in her voice, as she returned her eyes up at me in disappointment. Before her mood soured by me delaying the reading, I made a proposal.
"Baby, how about we warm ourselves up?" I suggested.
Wringing out a little of her hair by the doormat, the tyke looked to the side, a little bashful. I suppose she had hoped for this to have been a quick meeting, but seeing as she wasn't showing any signs of eagerness for leaving, that was probably making her a little hopeful. Had she real expected me to dismiss her promptly? Cautiously, she stepped further into the confines of my lounge. She'd been here before, but it was evident in her wide and curious eyes she hadn't taken a moment to appreciate how large and luxurious it was. I brag, yes, I make fairly well for myself, but I haven't got a fragile ego that's unphased if I don't try to rub my success in peoples faces.
When the Powerpuff shyly entered the bathroom, I don't think I'd seen her cast such an overwhelmed expression. In my attempts to welcome her, offering to bathe her after having been soaked in the rain and clearly a little emotionally fragile with the letter, I didn't stop to think I might be delivering the wrong impression. Looking back on it now, perhaps the dim lighting with the candles and even going so far as to bathe with her was probably taking a step to far. First thought for me was that it would help her relax and ease up the tension.
I admit, as she finally closed the door and couldn't help but be rooted to the spot as she stared over at me, lying back with the bubbles barely masking my chest, I felt my heart thump quite hard in my chest. It'd been a while since I'd felt it do that. And particularly when she chose to avert her eyes, turning away from me, my stomach felt this strange churn and I was shocked to feel another familiar stirring of excitement in my groin.
When the baby doll finally mustered the bravery to place aside her towel and make her way to the tub, I had to maintain a need for expressing my adoration, as she refrained from using superpowers to assist her and I watched as she stumbled and finally succeeded to climb in, her legs flailing on the way. Slipping in, like a seal, head first, she burred and hummed in delight as her coldness was swept away by the cozy tides of bath water. Doggy paddling, the bath was practically a pool for her.
"Not too deep?" I ask.
"Nah, this is great!" Buttercup responded, her adorable, raspy voice having become a particular pull on my heartstrings, springing a fluttery feeling in my chest. "Man, how can you have everything and be so casual about it?"
It was nice to see she was beginning to ease, particularly after that incident she refused to bathe one would think it would be like forcing a ravaging wild cat into the tub. "Well, I guess one can take what they have for granted. The thing is, I cherish all I've gained, appreciate it, because of the hard work I went through to get it"
"Unlike some people" grumbled the powerpuff, Morbucks coming to mind. She allowed for the water to submerge the lower half of her head to blow bubbles. "You think maybe one day I can have a place like this?"
A natural flatterer. I reached for her, fishing her out and took a sponge to wash her. "I don't see why not, seeing how hard you girls work. It's hard for people, who have been handed everything in their lives, to look through the eyes of someone who has had things rougher. They come to just expect to be treated like royalty. People who haven't been provided much, who work hard, will come to appreciate what they have more and more. You girls have worked hard for everything you have. Your home, your family, friends…"
"Y-yeah" agreed the tyke, trembling under the soft touch of the sponge, massaging her chest in a circular motion. Her legs tensed, attempting to cross themselves, after a tingling sensation triggered by the rubbing of her erect nipples.
As I cleaned her, I dazed out so much, even words failed me. They trailed off into nothing. Her body, cupped too easily in my hands, glazed by the bath water, perpetuated the impression of polished bronze. Candlelight directed soft lines across her body that trembled with each uneasy breath the girl took. I was trapped in an aura that only glowed more brightly, seared with a more intense heat and become more isolating with each passing second. Outside the bubble of bliss, the world canceled itself out, as if it willingly erased itself from my vision, allowing for me to draw my entire focus upon the child and the child alone.
When I had mustered the will to mentally fan that fantastical delusion from my mind like a mist, I had realised I had perhaps been a little too confident in my washing of the raven haired babe, who was shivering in my palms. Not from the cold, but from a whole other sensation.
Buttercup's eyes crinkled and squeezed tightly shut, as she seemingly hyperventilated, her face a stark crimson from the tender motions of the sponge positioned between her legs, which had softened from their previously tense state.
Shocked at my own distraction, I moved the sponge away and resumed dabbing and rubbing other parts of her body. My heart practically hummed in my chest, in my ears, like a hummingbirds. They felt that uncomfortable step away from palpitations, as I was afraid and was convincing myself that it was simply washing for too long and not some unconscious act of yearning for the girl in my clutches. Even after I had pulled the sponge from her stimulated region, she continued to let soft whimpers and cute moans escape her lips.
Finishing, I slowly lowered her back into the water. Buttercup seemed somewhat vacant, worrying me.
"T-There" I softly said, breaking the silence. "All done"
Thankfully, she turned to face me, a new found smile on her face, a goofy expression. I couldn't help but smile back.
"Thanks" she replied, her voice tantalising with that rasp, thicker than usual, sounding kinda husky. "That felt really good, like a massage"
I felt awful. Maybe it was because of the intensity of the bath water's heat. Because I hadn't eaten? Why was my mind trailing off like this?
A light splash of water smacked my cheeks, as the girl swam over to me, closely and confidently placed her hands upon my chest. My breath hitched.
"You wouldn't remind if I returned the favour, eh?" chuckled the darling, her hair ruffled into a nest of black spikes.
I stammered anxiously. "I needn't t-think that be necessary. Why don't you turn your back to me and I'll shampoo your ha-AHN!"
I bit my lip, feeling her paws begin to rub my breasts, pressing gently in her hands. My loins were burning and I hated myself, feeling how wet I was, even under the bath water. Her touch is so bold, yet delicate, as she plays with me, while shooting me that cheeky little grin.
"I sometimes wonder…" started the raven haired tyke. "If maybe even with all this you have it just isn't enough. Someone like you should be treated like royalty. I'd be happy to be your footman of sorts. After all, you deserve it after everything you've done for everyone"
She's taunting me with her innocence…
"B-Buttercup, thank you, but that's quite enough" I breathed shakily. "I insist"
"Nope, I want to do for you what you did for me"
Her movements with my breasts are getting bolder, more confident. It feels so good.
"Really… Buttercup" I pant, trying to keep my hips for bucking. I'm so embarrassed, feeling her amused gaze, as she watches me attempt to keep to the side my pleasure at her touch. She begins nuzzling my chest. "Baby, stop! This is inappropriate" I say, my voice a bit more stern.
I want her…
"Why?" the girl asks cutely, in genuine bewilderment. "What's the matter? Am I doing it wrong?"
Her tiny hands clasp and rub my nipples. I'm gonna go crazy. "Buttercup!" I snatch her firmly. "I said stop"
She obeys, a little taken aback, but she understands. "Okay" she submits quietly, slowly.
I let her down again, trying to keep my composure. What's happening to me?
End of Part One
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