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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.

Chapter List
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Part Three
Bellum's POV
It's difficult to accept the reality of what I had done to that poor girl. I don't even really know why I approached her the way I had done. When it happened, I felt a part of myself shut off and disappear. Almost as if I were just observing what I was doing and had no control over it. When we had broken our kiss to look at each other, when she informed me of the distress signal in the sky, I was suddenly back in my body; present and in control. The way she just fit so perfectly in my hands as I clasped her and held her tight... the way she looked at me... I feel like that image of her isn't going to leave me for a long time.
I had more wine after she went, trying to dull the rushing anxiety and the fear fizzling in the pit of my stomach, stemming a strong growth of pressure in my chest, as if I were nauseous. I didn't mean to scare her, because when she arrived, I already knew she was uneasy and had come to me deliberately to confide in me personally about something private. I can't blame the alcohol. I can't blame the stress of my workload... I can only blame myself.
It's hard to not keep checking back at the curtain. Any moment, I keep waiting for her to arrive back. But, then I ask myself, why would she feel she had to? I had taken advantage of her. If anything, she had every right to report me to authorities. Having taken a glass of full bodied red to calm my own nerves after the bath, I thought maybe if I were frank with her, she'd warm to me. But, not that frank. Why did I expose myself to her? Why did I call her so seductively? What was wrong with me? I made her cry, when I was just trying to be playful with her. Had my mind really been distorted so much when she played with my breasts in the bathtub? Why had my brain romanticised that so much?
Am I really attracted to her?
The clock in the lounge chimes, declaring it is 1AM. I haven't got work tomorrow, but I still feel obligated to go in to keep myself preoccupied... distracted more like. Sighing with guilt, a deep pitted sadness, I close the curtain, switch off the lights and head to bed. There's an unpleasant anticipation nesting within me, filled with ugly ideas of the future. That being that there was no future... after what I had done. I deserve all that I get.
I'm sorry, Buttercup...
In attempts to calm my still busy mind, I begin masturbating. It was something I'd done since I was a teen as a habit to ease myself into a goodnight sleep. I have toys, but I'm too lazy to go and fetch them. So, I resort to my own tools of the trade: my hands.
However, as I try to embed myself in wondrous pleasures cast by my own touch, a familiar face keeps creeping into my subconscious.
Stop it.
But, the more I try to dismiss the face, the more vividly it imprints into my imagination. And then I start to hear her voice, that rasp, that delicious husky tone that requires no effort on her part to be sexy. I hear her call my name...
“Ms. Bellum...”
Stop it!
I see her lounging on my sofa in an opened button shirt and her underwear. Her chest all sweaty and her devilish kinks matted and spiked. Her eyes beckon me and I find myself ravaging her tiny form with my lips: enjoying her grunts and groans, as I lick along her tummy and take a nipple into my mouth as I did earlier. My tongue has memorised its size and the taste of her flesh. I cup her tiny body, taking her whole and for myself.
Please... no...
My memories are cursing me, screaming damnation at me, yet my hands don't stop. They can't.
She cocks a brow at me and I see, from nowhere, I'm suddenly wearing a strap-on. They're comfortable, stretchy boxers and the phallus is soft silicone. I watch her nuzzle the false cock and take the head into her mouth. As if she's experienced, she begins to casually bob her head up and down on the toy and I automatically motion my hips in a rhythm. I try to pull her away, gently grabbing some of her hair to restrain her duty, and she offers me this thirsty look. Somewhat agitated. Her mouth barely leaves my replicating manhood, her tongue still wrapping around the head, waiting to take it back in. Those large, emerald-like spectacles judge me. They spell me out as a hypocrite.
“You can't always help how you feel... Ms.Bellum” she fires back at me, my own words, slyly. It feels like an aggressive retort, to put me in my place and I let her resume in her actions, swallowing my cock up into her.
How she's able to take so much is beyond me (the power of fantasy and the imagination I guess). My motions become quicker, my hands, once holding her back, begin to force her further, making her take more of me into her with each thrust. I become more demanding, moaning at the vivid sensation of her beautiful, charcoal hair against my finger tips. She begins to choke a little, then squeak and whimper and she looks up at me again, allowing me to slam my toy deep into her, deep throating her, yet she does not protest to breath.
Please...
She's just as submissive when I take her. Having her splayed out on her front on my desk. I guide my toy gently inside her, producing a deep and adorable moan from the girl, who positions herself, readjusting for comfort, onto all fours, ready for me. She fits so perfectly in my hands as I grip her and begin bucking my hips, filling her with my false phallus. She pants and whines loudly, and I do too, just hearing her enjoy herself.
“Harder” she tells me.
In the waking world, I'm rubbing my clit manically and pinching one of my nipples, panting, trying to maintain my cries of pleasure, thinking of the heroine, the sweet little girl who I'm ravaging in my thoughts.
The girl murrs and moans, turning onto her back so she can look at me and I keep going. Her tiny mitts grab mine, gripping to her midsection as I fuck her. Her voice is what sells it most. Her adorable puppy like cries and yelps, as my movements become rougher, deeper. She loves it. Having squinted her eyes for a while, tensing, I can only imagine she's feeling the impending climax. Taking a deep breath and withdrawing a quakey exhale, she gazes up at me.
“Sara”
My name, the way she says it, echoes in my brain. I want to kiss her.
Eventually, the waves reach upon the shores of my ecstasy and I arch my back, allowing for them to crash, resulting in a powerful orgasm. My cry is contained, sounding more like a petrified wail than one of pleasure and I relieve my clit from it's suffocation and abuse, still feeling it throb from the continuing pulsing within me. My legs give out and I fall into a heap on my bed, feeling droplet of sweat run down my thighs. After the dim of the frantic electricity in my groin, I reach for my side drawer and take out some tissues.
“That was quite a show”
I tell myself that the words were just in my head, the fantasy aspect has already diminished. I freeze and I feel the eyes of something, someone, in the room. However, this time, the voice spoken is blatantly clear, I can feel it and it's coming from the foot of my bed.
She sits cross-legged, leaning back a little and gazes at me with a half-lidded expression. I'd never known for the girl's eyes to glow like that and I'm creeped out. I finally gather the courage to turn my head and fully see her, seating there in the centre, like a cat. She appears a little ruffled, probably from a fight she'd had. Her tone is a bit more confident and frank, a stark contrast to the shivering wreck she was earlier. A knot lodges in my stomach and throat.
“You wanted me to come back... right?” she asks, a little softer.
I'm still honestly rather flabbergasted she even came back. Willingly. Nodding slowly, I pull the sheets up to cover myself. How long had she been there? Was she there the whole time I was pleasuring myself?
“I... I never meant to frighten you” I say. “There's no excuse for what I did to you... it was wrong. You came to me to confide in me in something troubling you and...”
She stops me, raising a hand to her own lips. The illumination from the giant eyes makes it a tad easier to make out her form in the dark. My heartbeat drums in my ears, getting gradually louder and faster. I gasp in surprise as she levitates up and hovers over to me, closer. My head presses to the head board and my face tingles with heat as she rests herself on my upheld stomach and chest. Her tiny feet bare down, close to my groin and her hands rest upon my heaving chest. Those eyes...
The intensity of their shine simmers done into a more gentle glow.
“I did come to you, Ms.Bellum” she confirms. “Because I need you. I got sick of waiting and thinking I could change things, how I felt about you. How I've been feeling about you for a long time”
I hate myself, feeling my arousal bud again, warmly stinging my regions, upon hearing those words.
“I just wished you coulda just read that stupid letter”
Her growl is a bit shocking. She's not angry at me, but herself. Annoyed.
“I'm useless, Sara. I can't make out a damn thing and what to say without having some plan about it. You know as well as anybody else I'm a dimwit who can't put words together like some poet and who hates confronting what they feel and why. I just wanted to throw the card your way with that stinking flower and be done with it. I was half expecting you to either just throw it away or laugh at me and belittle what I had been feeling for so long. I didn't expect you to sweep me up in your arms literally and... dammit, Ms.Bellum! I didn't think you'd look so confidently into my freakin' heart and soul and bring to life what I'd only dreamt you do to me!”
We're both in a puzzling and hideous concoction of realised emotions. She frowns at me, and, even through the harsh blackness, I can spot a hot blush on her cheeks. Her breathing is becoming a bit hard and she's trembling. I gulp as I feel her hot breath on my chest. Chewing her lip, she leans forward and rests herself on my bosoms, maintaining that determined look. We can feel each others heartbeats pump in rhythm to one another. Her motions are intentional and I shiver pleasantly as she tweaks and pulls gently on my nipples. I'm soaked again...
“It was amazing... the way you touched me in the bath. And I wasn't kidding when I said I wanted to return the favour” she says, a tad bashful, but still withholding some form of her typical cheeky nature.
"B-baby" I whispers, my voice, usually strong and authorative in tone having disintigrated. "Wait..."
She finally smiles. “I like it when you call me that...”
My entire body begins to tingle with the harsh fire that engulfs me head to toe. To escalate my senses, pushing them and my mind further over the boundaries that have for so long been set in stone, she breaks the invisible glass wall of doubt and fear between us and takes one of my nipples into her mouth. I'm completely ecstatic, but paralyzed by the conquoring desire for her and feel myself go weak as she attacks my breasts so viciously.
Panting, I watch her suck and nip on my tits, licking so hungrily at them, only amplifying the idea of how long she's caged these feelings. She's so desperate and wasting no time, kneading my huge tits and taking as much as she can into that mouth that suckles so hard and her groans of sexual craving vibrate through my skin. I cry out and press her to me, feeling my legs spread for her, despite her tiny frame. My fingers wrestle and run through her soft little locks.
She nips a little too hard at my nipple, but my hips thrust up, my moans a battling mesh between pain and pleasure.
“Yes... Buttercup, yes... more” I plea, awash for a ferocious shame as she exerts her dominance over me, this little cherub.
She moves up, practically crawling over me and seizes the sides of my face to kiss me. An immense heat builds between us and I immediately stick my tongue into her mouth to taste her again, whimpering at the raging hormones, the animal like lust between us.
I begin to strip off her dress. This time, Baby girl, I'm not going to stop....
End of Part Three
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A Night with Ms.Bellum