Diabolik Dominatrix

№➊➋

Fonts Used:
Invertor by Olga Ryzhychenko
Intensa Fuente à € by Edumorcel
Impact Label à by Tension Type

№➊➋|❝White Elephant❞

“Did you miss me?”

There is silence in the room.

The blonde woman's smile balances precariously on her face with every stretch of inactivity, nearly on the verge of slipping with irritation, until:

“I-I ....”

A tidal wave of overwhelming emotions and nearly drown Chouko. A scarce few tears leak from her eyes, so many feelings bursting to be expressed, yet the pure emotion crushing her windpipe and choking her words make them stutter pathetically:

“I..  m-miss~ed you so~o mu..ch-!” And the dam of her eyelids breaks and the tears shake her already trembling body as she crushes her mother in an embrace.

And it's with great fortune that she does, for the mother can scarcely hold back her distaste at the revolting and mawkish display. She makes eye contact with her lover Richter and the man stares back knowingly. A glimmer in his eyes tells her what she had almost overlooked and then she sighs silently before returning her daughter's embrace:

“I know,” she endeavors to reassuringly pat her daughter's back, holding back the urge to shove the mess of tears and cries away from her.

“I'm so-” her voice cuts out like a radio. “I'm so sorry, that I almost- I almost k-killed you,” the grief narrows her voice into a mere whisper at the end and anyone who heard such a thing would see the absolute, genuine emotion of it. It is enough to make stone statues cry and move even the saints in Heaven to tears on behalf of the little vampire. Bitterness stings the older woman: even Richter pities the girl.

“You didn’t know of Richter’s plans. How could I condemn you for your ignorance?” Easily like I've done to so many in the past.

“T-thank y-you! Thank you, Mother!” And though the mother is disgusted to be trapped in the emotional embrace of the vampire woman, because her mortal body surely doesn't have the strength to move her, in the deepest corners of her mind she admits to herself that Richter is right, after all. With this display, Chouko relies on her, and so she can use her. And she must. And she will.

It's with this thought that she bears the uncomfortable hug and manages to rub the girl's back in the simulation of care, yet she cannot completely hide the shudders of disgust and desire to separate. Karlheinz, the girl was crying and snivelling into me like I was a tissue or a teddy bear!

But she sucks it up, and realizes she can both get away from the imbecile while still holding her unfaltering adoration and affection:

“Darling, why don't we get ourselves cleaned up, and then we can better discuss what comes next?” It's posed as a question, pitched with compassion. But it's an order and with but a few more seconds the superficial coating of tenderness would melt from the fury of the inner hatred it conceals.

“Yes, Mother,” a whisper of assent, and inwardly Cordelia is both pleased and irritated, but she expresses this only in the eyes she makes to her lover and she tells him to stay away. He did a negligent job of inspiring fealty within her daughter and now she would have to rectify that. As they say; if one wants something to be properly done, one must do it oneself!

Cordelia has no worries, however, she has been controlling her daughter all her insignificant little life, and no amount of years of separation could cancel that hold. This would be easy, Chouko would be under her absolute authority again, she would serve her purpose. And afterwards? Afterwards belongs to the victors and no number of puppets and children would steal her victory from her.