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Another World: House of the Holy	By : Estromale Category: +G through L > Hey, Arnold! Views: 3141 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Warning: Rated NC-17 because I decided to put in the naughty bits in all its glory. If it sounds bad, forgive my maleness.

Helga walked home that same day, her hands in her pockets. The leaves had stopped falling, and frost was beginning to gather, now that temperature was below thirty degrees. She shivered slightly, walking into the City Park. There was a neat skateboard enclave made especially for those who did stupid stuff like that, and Helga enjoyed watching to see how many times one of those idiots would fall and sprain something just to look good. She walked over to sit on a bench, and was surprised to see Gaz there, sketching in a pad.
“What are you doing here?” Helga asked, sounding cross. She was still a little upset about the comments Gaz had made earlier, and thought the park would be free of people she knew.
“What’s it look like?” Gaz shot back. “I never saw a sign saying this was your park.”
“Never mind,” Helga said, glaring. She hated that Gaz was the only one she could never unnerve. “Why the heck are you sketching in this weather?”
“Why are you standing over me in this weather?” Gaz asked just as defensively. “If you think hard enough, you might get an answer.”
“Cr-Iminy, you frustrate me!” Helga exploded. “Don’t you ever take a rest from being an absolute jerk?”
“Don’t you?” Gaz replied. “As far as I can tell, you’ve never been ‘Ms. Zen’ when I’ve been around you.”
Helga took a deep breath again, then just sighed. “I shouldn’t even bother,” she said, at the same time Gaz said, “The skaters.”
The two looked at each other. “What?” They asked in unison.
“You first,” Helga said.
“The skaters,” Gaz replied. “I’m sketching them. It’s not easy, since they move too much, but its fun to try anyway. There’s something about their movement that inspires art to me...that’s why I draw them.”
“Really?” Helga looked skeptical. “I always thought it looked clumsy and show-offy.”
“Before I met you, I thought poetry was about doom, gloom and how stupid people are,” Gaz replied. “I found out it also has feeling too.”
Helga blushed a little. “You didn’t act like you thought so.”
“In front of those drips?” Gaz smiled a little. “They’re better off seeing me when I’m just sarcastic and bitchy. It helps to balance the group.”
“What do you mean?” Helga asked.
“Take a look: Sandy’s simple as can be, but sweet as sugar. Timmy’s this great optimist who makes sure that we are all protected. Eliza’s got all these great plans, and is the first to make friends and extend a hand. They’re all pretty happy, functioning people, if you really think about it. If these stuck up idiots at the school had their brains out of their asses; they’d have made friends with them long ago. The fact that stupid people have problems with differences shows you how uniquely shallow and superficial they are. You get someone like me, who’s the best example of a parent’s worst nightmare: rude, crass and noticeably different. By the school’s stupid example, I’d be left by myself, but look: the three say ‘hey, we like you, come hang with us.’ So I do, even though I have no idea how people like them and people like me coexist in the first place.”
Helga shrugged. “I don’t know either...if the gang had been smart, they would have listened to you and left me alone.” Helga couldn’t help but realize she said this purposely to see what Gaz really thought about her.
“I’m like that about everyone,” Gaz said, “but I was more like that with you. See it would have been easier if there was another optimistic, happy guy like the others. They’d known their place and smile and all that sappy happy stuff. You come along, and I start to wonder if my own part in the group is in jeopardy.”
“And is it?” Helga said, slinking her eyes a little.
“Not really,” Gaz said. “You’re better at showing you have feelings: they can sense hurt from a mile away, and they feel like it’s their duty to fix it. They’re stupid that way...but hey, what can I say? It’s kinda nice too.”
“Hey, let’s get something straight!” Helga said, nose to nose with Gaz. “I am NOT a little lost puppy dog, and I don’t need the group. Better yet, I don’t need you and your psychobabble about good and bad and love and all of that other mushy crap! I could get along just fine without you!”
“Just try it!” Gaz said, pressing her nose right back to Helga’s. “You think you’re so strong and tough and unbreakable? Ha! You’re as full of optimism as they are, Pataki! I’ll bet you always were!”
“Prove it!” Helga said, a few pigeons suddenly flying as she issued her challenge. “From the first time I met you, you thought you were just so superior and so mysterious with the purple hair and the skull thing!”
Gaz got up, putting the drawing pad in her knapsack. “If you’re going to shoot your mouth off like that, then I will prove that you’re just like them!”
_
Helga had followed Gaz to her house, and though it was widely known that Gaz was the daughter of the famous scientist Professor Membrane, it didn’t hit home until she went through the house and viewed all of the different gadgets and robots that scurried around the house. One of them looked like a slinky cat with red eyes, but Gaz pulled her away from it.
“Oh, you don’t want to go near that one,” she said. “Mimi gets...testy.”
“Right,” Helga said, giving the evil looking cat one last glance, then being shoved in Gaz’s room. It was in the dark except for the purple black light glowing on the right side of the room, shining on her posters: Edward Scissorhands, The Crow, A Rob Zombie and...one with big, pink happy flowers.
“Um...what’s that one about?” Helga asked, noticing how unlike the other posters it was.
“The pig demands...strange things,” Gaz replied, and Helga looked frightened, but relaxed as she settled onto Gaz’s bed, which seemed to be the most comfortable bed she’d ever been in. The down feathers in the pillows cushioned her head, and she sighed.
“So...why isn’t anyone home?” Helga asked, eyeing Gaz’s collection of Kafka, Nabokov, Irving, Gaiman, King and a lot of other books she was pretty sure would put her father in conniptions.
“Well, Dib’s living at his boyfriend’s place,” Gaz said, rolling her eyes, “And dad’s at the show. He usually is for a long time.”
“Oh...wait, what?” Helga shot up. “Your brother has a BOYFRIEND?”
“Yeah, so?” Gaz said, looking disgusted. “Don’t remind me. The two of them are so...ugh...cute.”
Helga snickered. “Boy, do you have a problem with relationships.”
Gaz shrugged. “Hey...get up a moment and put your hands above your head? I have to move something, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“What?” Helga asked, putting her hands above her head. “What are you talking abo...”
Helga didn’t get to finish her sentence. Gaz had taken a pair of handcuffs and had fastened them around a nearby bedpost.
“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” Helga said angrily. “Get me out of these cuffs! Are you crazy? Are you in some kind of pig cult or something? What the...”
The words died in her throat as Gaz quietly unbuttoned the top of her dress, allowing just the flimsy striped shirt. She then pulled off the dress, and Helga saw Gaz was wearing black silk panties. She swallowed and tried to concentrate on being angry and outraged, so she closed her eyes. “You sick pervert! You get me out of these cuffs and...”
“Shut up,” Gaz replied, and Helga started to reply, but felt Gaz’s hand on her back collar of her dress. She was being raped...wasn’t she? “Gaz,” she murmured, “Get me out of these. I m-mean it!”
Gaz paused only a moment, and slid closer to Helga, now whispering in her ear. “Why? So you can continue to be angry or sad or whatever strange feeling you have that makes you act like you have to fight people to win? Come on, Helga, look at me a little closer. Just because I didn’t submerse myself in your poems don’t mean I didn’t like them. It just posed a different affect.”
“What effect?” Helga said, straining in vain. “I didn’t write it to be sodimized!”
“Of course you didn’t,” Gaz replied. “But then, you know what a good relationship is like...or thought you did, I think. You know what it’s like to fall for someone and then get pricked. Well I’m not giving you a chance to get pricked...at least, not in the emotionally draining way.”
“What...what are you going to do?” Helga said, her voice tiny.
“I’m going to love you, Helga,” Gaz replied, lightly lifting up Helga’s dress over her head, leaving Helga in her light blue panties, her budding nipples shivering with goosebumps. “I’m going to do so in the way the body falls to its knees and cascades into different invisible lights and makes it real, like the black light you see in the corner. What I’m showing you is the dark side of love: the flowing of blood, the rising of hormone levels, the magic of kiss to kiss. You knew it with someone you loved already, so you know it had to be good: now you’ll get to have it with someone who’s simply been waiting to show just how good they are at it.” Gaz lightly ran her pointer finger down Helga’s back, and Helga’s shuddered, starting to feel damp between her legs.
“W-why me?” Helga asked, taking breaths. “Why?”
“Because you’re the one that I wanted,” Gaz answered, winking. She lightly undid the bow in Helga’s hair and allowed the gold hair to fall carelessly, lightly nibbling on her neck. “I like the guys for different reasons: but you are something different, some kind of shining nebula that is willing to put herself out because her hand dealt her a hard blow. So now I’ll take my OWN chance, Helga: I’ll show my passion, my emotion, and my heart, if not to sound overly cliché.”
Gaz grasped the back of Helga’s panties and lightly slid them off, her lips going to Helga’s back. She gently started to nibble and kiss the small of her back, her hands freely roaming around Helga’s stomach and thighs. Helga shuddered and whimpered, straining against the cuffs. Phoebe had never, EVER taken a full-on dominant act like this, having her chained and helpless. Helga was unsure how she wanted to feel about it. Gaz’s hand now grasped her buttocks, and Helga gasped loudly, her knees buckling. Who would have recognized Helga G. Pataki like this, shivering, and at someone’s mercy?
“Gaz...Gaz please...” Helga moaned, “Let me out of these cuffs. Pl...” Gaz spread her cheeks apart now, and lifted her head to give Helga a longing lick. “Ga...Gaz...oh Gaz...”
Helga had spread her legs before she even fully realized what she was doing, and felt complete and utter humiliation and euphoria at the same time as Gaz took Helga’s lips gently into her mouth, rolling and licking inside her netherlips. Helga started to strain from the handcuffs again, but not for escape: from pure ecstasy. “Gaz...please...I don’t...”
“You do,” Gaz said, and continued to lick and stroke Helga’s damp vagina. “In fact, say you will, or I won’t. It’s your choice: pleasure or pride.”
“Pleasure,” Helga said, her eyes slinking back, though her voice still trembling. “I’m claiming them both.”
Gaz smiled. “I thought you’d say that.” She produced a small silver key and opened the cuffs. “Now I’m going to see if you want to go or stay. It’s your choice to make. You could go back to hating the world and cursing everyone in it because you lost your love…do you really want to?”
Helga looked softly at Gaz, no longer feeling the humiliation of the nudity of her body. Her shoulders sagged; she could hear Gaz breathing gently, her own mixed emotions fixed on her face by her blushing as evidence. Gaz had never, for all the time she knew her, blushed, no matter how pale her skin was. Helga looked down a moment, and then looked at Gaz.
“You knew what I wanted, didn’t you?” She said softly. “You knew that if I did something like this again, it could be like Phoebe. It’d have to be where I wouldn’t fear being hurt anymore.”
“Great minds think alike,” Gaz said, and she took off her boots now, leaving her knee stockings as her only cloth.
“I want this,” Helga said, and she could feel the lust and burning in her eyes. “I want it with you.”
Helga paused, and Gaz seized the opportunity. She lifted her back against Helga, pinning her to bed, Gaz now on top of the taller girl. She held on to the taller girl’s arms and slowly began to grind against Helga’s pelvis, and Helga let out a long gasp, and rubbed against Gaz, producing the same climatic feeling that Gaz was giving. Helga allowed her head to bend forward and lovingly licked the smaller girl’s pointed breasts, reveling in the soft sigh the girl gave, knowing her pleasure was reciprocal. Gaz sighed, another sign that Helga was getting to the seemingly emotionless girl, and continued, her tongue now bathing more into the contours of Gaz’s body, loving bathing all the way down to her thighs. Helga had seen the riding crop that was hung up across Gaz’s bed, and knew that, perhaps many nights to come; they would make use of it. The thought of it brought out a mischievous grin, and it did not go unnoticed by Gaz. She stopped Helga from traveling further down from her inner thighs, instead allowing her legs to get entangled with Helga’s.
The two of them rubbed against each other again, but harder and faster, a buildup starting in each of them, and burning so badly that Helga yearned for release. She whimpered gently when Gaz suddenly stopped, yearning for Gaz’s warm, burning body against hers again.
“Not yet,” Gaz gasped, as if knowing what Helga was thinking. She turned herself around on Helga stomach, as Helga pulled Gaz’s buttocks more closely to her. Helga trembled in the sliding feeling of Gaz’s tongue again in her most private region before indulging in this herself, bringing Gaz’s own vagina to her lips, licking and stroking in succession. The two were both moaning now, Helga’s passion growing even more, Gaz no longer being silent about her own. Helga exploded into multiple orgasm, crying out Gaz’s name, and a moment later, from Gaz’ muscles locking against her own, Helga knew Gaz had reached her own orgasm. The two of them collapsed, and though Helga had not thought it possible, Gaz laid her head gently on Helga’s lap and curled up, snoring quietly.
_
Sandy couldn’t get the look off her face. “Yer kiddin’!” She said, looking scandalized. “Since when does Gaz actually have a libido?”
Helga shrugged, unable to get her silly grin off her face. “You got me. I guess she was just keeping it all inside. I wouldn’t even be telling you all this if she hadn’t given me permission.”
“You got permission to tell us this?” Timmy looked indignant. “Boy…you really did a number on her!”
“I did not!” Helga said. “You know how she is! I couldn’t do it without her telling me how this destroys friendships and makes our relationship less and all this other gloomy crap!”
“Well, that sounds more like her,” Eliza said, giggling. “But I guess you never know how much a person is willing to show of themselves until they’re alone.”
“I don’t even want to KNOW what you two do alone,” Timmy said, snickering.
“Well why not?” Helga said, grimacing. “You could use the pointers! You have the worst chick magnet I’ve ever seen.”
“She’s right, ya know,” Sandy commented. “You really suck at getting women.”
“And speaking of suck,” Helga said, smiling evily, “when WAS the last time you and Chester saw each other anyway?”
“Hey! That was a long time ago…really!” Timmy protested, but the other girls fell over each other laughing.
They saw Gaz come into view, and they exchanged smirking expressions. “So what?” Gaz said immediately. “It happens! I am human…unfortunately!”
Helga smiled. “Hey Gaz…what do you think of Timmy’s chances with a girl?”
Gaz looked pained. “Timmy’s gay,” she said, matter of fact. “What are you talking about, girl?”
“I AM NOT GAY!” Timmy thundered, and the girls erupted into laughter, except Gaz, who eyed them all with bemusement. “Idiots,” she declared, and then turned so that they wouldn’t see the smile on her face.
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Another World: House of the Holy