Title: Too Close

Summary: She had one more very small piece of innocence that needed to be taken.

Rating: NC-17

Ship: Hattie/Dame Olga

Warnings: Incest, femslash

Kinks: Incest, first time, blood play, restraints, sex on a kitchen table.

A/N: Ugh, this is my squick. And I totally hate myself for writing it. God. Bring on the pitch forks and torches! Oh, and by the way, I had written this for my (failed) EE kink meme, hence why I would think to write something so…wrong.

Hattie was a giver.

Oh, no, not a giver of gifts, in the socially acceptable sense, but rather a giver of lewd sexual favors in the hallways at parties, a giver of oral sex and hand jobs to both the male and female persuasions. She was a giver, but never a receiver. She preferred to tease; getting off instead on the begging of her "lovers," coming to climax as soon as they uttered the magical--"please." But despite all of her…exploits, she was still a virgin, in physical terms, anyway. And this piece of innocence greatly bothered Hattie's very impure mother. Of course, Dame Olga wasn't at all proud of her daughter being a whore, but she was annoyed by how…tediously and selflessly Hattie went about doing it.

"A whore ought to get something out of it, Hattie. " Dame Olga had told her daughter, her tone that of a very concerned mother. Hattie had simply rolled her pretty blue eyes and scoffed, however, responding with the stock; "I am not a whore, mother." Olga had anticipated this, so she took on a more direct approach, hoping to convince her eldest daughter how to properly engage in copious acts of meaningless, one-sided sex.

"You're getting nothing--"

"Mother, I honestly don't feel comfortable discussing my personal affairs with you."

"But I'm your mother!" Olga had pressed on, taking Hattie's hands in hers.

"Mother or not, I still don't want you snooping around my sex life."

"Hattie-darling," Olga pressed on still further, standing up, and making Hattie stand, too. She grasped her daughter's shoulders, closing her eyes briefly, before opening them again, and locking eyes with Hattie. Olga took notice that they had the same eyes; icy blue and catlike, cold and malicious…

"Hattie," Olga began, smirking slightly as she spoke, "honestly, if you're going to be a whore, at least do it properly!"


It was all very sudden and very surprising then.

Olga's lips pressed against Hattie's, and the manner was most certainly not chaste. It was hungry, and insistent, soft and tasting of the sweetest sin. And of course, Hattie considered pulling away, it was the first thought on her mind, but Olga's hand sliding up her skit knocked that thought right out of her thought process.



The command was barely more than a whisper, but it carried, and Hattie thought better of her choice of actions.

"Mother…" it was a moan this time, as Olga's fingers pressed against the heated center between her thighs.

"Well, I suppose you're not as bad of a whore as I thought…" Olga mumbled, pressing Hattie against the kitchen table.

"On the table," her tone was wonderfully guttural, and Hattie felt rooted in place. A table? What, did she not deserve a bed?

"On the table, Hattie, now."

Hattie nodded once, and slid onto the table, laying on her back, eyes fluttering in anticipation. Olga was on top of her then, straddling her, and Hattie felt a wave of desire…followed by the crippling sensations of shame.

"Hattie-darling," Olga whispered into her ear, hands tugging at the hem of her skirt, intentions clear and somewhat disconcerting.


"You still have…your innocence.."

"Yes, but--"

"I want to take it from you…"

Hattie shivered, and shuddered when she felt a tingling between her thighs. It was all so terrible, and wrong and socially unacceptable, but honestly, what could she do at this point? She had reached an impasse, and she didn't feel terribly compelled to fix it.

"Hattie, tell me…tell me now…do you want me to take your innocence?"

Hattie bucked her hips, desperate and wanting release, but she wasn't at all sure who exactly she wanted it from. She considered, somewhat frantically, that she may have been enjoying the advances that Olga was employing upon her, and maybe, just maybe, she wanted her mother to take her innocence.

"Mother…mother, please…"

"Please what, Hattie?"

"Please…please take my innocence, mother…"

Olga was all but willing to oblige, and in an instant she had deprived Hattie of her skirt; pulling it off slowly, apparently reveling in the convulsions that were shaking her daughter's form.

Her panties; white cotton, were strikingly wet, Olga noticed, and with a smirk, she slid them off, not bothering calling attention to Hattie's reluctant arousal just yet.

"Hattie," Olga began, her fingertips tracing circles on Hattie's inner thighs, "you look so pretty and untouched…" her fingers brushed briefly against Hattie's soft, perfectly pink folds. She was so fucking innocent that it almost hurt to look at it. Well, innocent physically, anyway.

Hattie arched her back, whimpering, and Olga snapped to attention, chuckling slightly, she slipped he head between her daughter's thighs, inhaling the intoxicating scent of sex.

"Mother…yes…" Hattie moaned, bucking her hips into her mother's face. Olga's tongue darted out, quickly pressing against Hattie's aching, wet center, and she fucking savored the taste; sour and faintly sweet…it was just so Hattie….

"More…" Hattie gasped, her hands entangling themselves in Olga's hair, pulling slightly, feeling lightheaded from her mother's ministrations, wanting more…needing more….

"Oh, Hattie-darling," Olga had pulled away, and was staring at Hattie expectantly, her tongue slowly and seductively licking her lips, which were shining slightly from their contact with Hattie's excitement.

"Y-yes, mother?"

"Say please."

"Please, mother…"

"'Please mother' what?"

"Please eat me out, mother."

"Good girl." Olga smirked, disappearing between Hattie's legs again. Her tongue darted out again, slowly and teasingly pressing against Hattie's clit, reveling in the loud, high-pitched moan that escaped her daughter's mouth. Her hands grasped fistfuls of her mother's hair, pulling it, and her back arched, and she was unable to keep still for more than a fraction of a second. Her eyes rolled back into her head when Olga took her clit between her teeth, nibbling slightly, causing a--"Oh, god, yes!" to escape Hattie.

Hattie shuddered, shaking violently, her back arching high off the table. And suddenly (and disappointingly for her daughter) Olga pulled away, licking her lips again, that fucking seductive smirk on her face once again.

"Hattie-darling," Olga said, crawling up, and placing her moist lips on Hattie's--"This may hurt just a little."

"Oh, mother, ow!" Hattie gasped into Olga's mouth. Two long, slender fingers were penetrating her deftly, curling harshly, moving in and out of her, ignoring the tightness and the sticky red liquid that was signaling the cause of her daughter's "pain."

"Oh, mother, it hurts!"

"It won't hurt for much longer, darling…"


Another abrupt, very rough thrust, and Hattie was silenced by Olga's lips on hers, which managed to stifle a moan of pain.

"It hurts…" she was whimpering pathetically now, shuddering and gasping, her lips still responsive nonetheless.

"Mother, please…" she bucked her hips into Olga's hand, tilting her head, offering Olga her neck. She obliged, nipping at the pretty pale flesh, and quickly slipping another finger into Hattie's tight hole. She curled them--thrust hard--

"Mother! Oh, god, mother--harder…deeper…"

Olga's teeth sank into Hattie's neck, and she thrust into her for a final time, moaning when her daughter's muscles tightened around her fingers.

Hattie moaned; high-pitched and fucking excited.

Slowly, Olga withdrew her fingers, and sat up, still straddling Hattie's hips.

"Darling, open your mouth." Olga commanded silently, her fingers, which were wet with her daughter's blood and arousal, twitched. Hattie obeyed, and closed her eyes, and slowly Olga traced her fingertips along Hattie's lips, watching with sick fascination as she shuddered, and licked thoroughly, whimpering at her own taste, which was bitter and sour and faintly sweet.

Olga pulled away, and kissed Hattie's lips again.

"I love you, darling. See? That's the proper way to be a whore."