| Lecterotica- By RunningWiththeDeer |
| Lecterotica 1: Dress Up/Dress Down Hannibal Lecter closed and locked the bedroom door, then seated himself comfortably in an armchair, legs crossed and hands clasped over one knee. Clarice Starling stood in front of him, and very slowly undressed. This is how they always began, and she had long since abandoned any attempt at a showy presentation. �Just take them off, Gypsy Rose,� he�d chided her the first time. �The strip tease isn�t necessary.� But she insisted on taking her time; it got her aroused to do it that way. She liked the feel of his eyes on her. His observation of her was so intense, it was like fingers on her skin. Finally, she stood still, entirely naked, and met his gaze. She felt so vulnerable, so completely within his control�and yet, she knew her power over him as well. He kept his eyes on hers, then let them drop gradually, to survey all of her. �Turn around,� he said, his voice thick and low. She obeyed, holding each position until he gave her the next instruction. By the time she faced him again, she was very hot and ready to begin the next phase. She never knew what would follow, but always waited for him to tell her. He made no move to undress, and this told her what she�d already guessed: He was in a mood to have her play the submissive role. Lecter liked variety, but was not addicted to novelty, and this, in a range of degrees, was their most typical scenario. �Light the candles,� he said. She proceeded to the dresser, where a parade of candles in varying sizes and stages of consumption was arranged. She took awhile to light them all, aware of his close scrutiny, as the flickers of light and shadow on her body gave him an endless variety of spectacles. By the time she was done, the dim afternoon light through the heavy curtains had disappeared altogether. She resumed her place in front of him. He stared into her eyes for a long time, lips parted slightly, then blinked, as if trying to force himself out of a trance. �Well.� he said. �I have something for you.� He reached behind his chair and came up with a small flat box, wrapped in beautiful ivory paper and tied with a ribbon of dark green silk. She reached to take it, but he withheld it, and she stepped forward, arranging herself carefully on his lap, legs spread wide, straddling him. He wore his standard attire: a white linen shirt, open at the neck, and black trousers. Now her breasts were mere inches from his face; she could feel his breath on her nipples, and they hardened further in response. She took the box, being careful not to obstruct Lecter�s view of her, and hesitated before beginning to open it. She knew better than to try tearing into the paper. Finally, she bent and took the ribbon in her teeth, pulling it gently until the bow disappeared. Then, with her tongue, she manipulated it until it fell away and trailed to the floor. She did the same with the paper, prying the tape loose with tongue and teeth, licking slowly at the seams until they yielded. She was grateful to find no tape on the box itself, and simply nudged the edges of the top with her tongue until it lifted. Tissue paper covered the contents. Still looking into Lecter�s eyes, she blew gently on it until the folds parted. Only then did her eyes leave his face. The box contained a minuscule silk lace camisole in emerald green. Underneath were a pair of black fishnet stockings. The bottom layer was a collection of delicate chiffon scarves, all in varying shades of green. �Thank you, Dr. Lecter,� she whispered, using his formal title as she only did now at such times. �Lay the first two items on the bed, then kneel on the floor with the box,� he said. She did as he asked, keeping her movements slow and smooth as he watched. �Arrange the scarves in a row on the floor, near the bed so I can reach them easily. I want the shades to graduate from darkest to lightest.� There were ten scarves. She laid them out carefully, then paused, waiting. �Now rise, go into the bathroom and change into your outfit.� It was difficult to stand; there didn�t seem to be enough air in the room. She found a pair of black patent leather sling-back shoes with two-inch heels waiting on the rim of the bathtub. It took only a few minutes to don the slip, so short it covered only the top of her buttocks. The neckline plunged to her navel. The spaghetti straps were loose and kept falling down, first one side, then the other. The stockings had seams; they were elasticized at the top and easy to arrange without garters. Finally, the shoes. When she emerged, Lecter lay on the bed, feet touching the floor, resting back on his elbows. He had removed his shirt and unbuttoned his trousers. He wore no undergarments and his erection was fully exposed, engorged nearly to the max. Clarice took a deep breath and fought the urge to drop to her knees in front of him. She watched his arousal increase as he studied her in the outfit. The left shoulder strap dropped again and she raised a hand to fix it. Turn page to next part of story.... |