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Idol Hands	By : Clocktower Category: -Misc Anime > Crossovers Views: 2327 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not hold the copyright for the Hellsing, Harry Potter, Bayonetta, or Tomb Raider fandoms. I do not profit from this story.

Chapter List
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Where the ceiling had been now protruded an enormous eye. Unblinking, its great pupil the size of a dinner plate, it focused on the two in its thrall. They didn't know why they'd both come to this room, neither could say why they locked lips and dueled each other with their tongues. The bronze-skinned one with the long, yellow hair took great pleasure in dominating the other, pushing the bushy-haired one's tongue back into her mouth, sucking it back in as she pleased.
Neither paid any mind to the swimming pool sized eye above their heads as they removed their clothes. The one with the yellow hair had brought a long, rubber phallus which she held while the bushy-haired got down on her knees to lubricate it with her mouth. When both ends of the phallus were slick with saliva, the yellow-hair slid it between the others legs as she lie on the floor. The bushy-hair whimpered, such was the intensity of the feeling. The blond was quieter when inserting her end of the phallus into her own womanhood, but once the two were joined and working their hips in proper rhythm, she grunted and moaned with abandon, making herself think of a rutting pig.
The eye never blinked, but it did quiver as it focused on every small movement the creatures beneath it made. The sensations they were producing in themselves interfered with their breathing, caused them to vocalize against their will. Still, they craved more of it, touching their sensitive breasts to heighten their arousal and the depth of pleasure they felt.
At first they faced each other, fondling themselves, licking their breasts as their hips worked against each other to press pleasure from the phallus they shared. Each felt exposed, shamed, though the more they did this with each other the more familiar, the more numb they became.
"You grunt like a pig when you cum," said the one called Hermione.
The one called Integra nearly did cum at those words. Filthy, base language, it made everything all the more wretched and delicious.
"You cum when I grunt like a pig," said Integra.
It was too much for them to stand any longer. They turned themselves so their buttocks could slap against each other and went hard for a long time, the eye above them rolling in ecstasy as they made each other cum, both uttering guttural noises of the deepest gratification.
Seras woke up feeling cold and sore even though she lay in the middle four poster bed with a cloud for a mattress, one imported from Heaven.
She was cold because she didn't have a heart beat. She was sore because she'd spent most of the previous night hanging by her arms from a ceiling, writhing as she was kissed and sucked by the sweet lips of Lara Croft.
Where was Lara? Where were her clothes? Loathe as she was to leave the bed, she did so, only to be met at the door by Lara herself, dressed in a short night robe of purple silk. "Good morning," said Lara. I brought you something to wear while your clothes are in the wash."
She handed Seras a black version of the robe she had on. It felt wonderful against Seras' skin, especially against her breasts. Her nipples popped against the fabric, grew even harder as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Lara, by deliberate contrast, loosened her robe, showing off most of what she had to offer. "I find fighting its influence every waking moment to be rather exhausting," she said. "I like to pick my battles."
Seras let her arms fall, let herself enjoy being ferociously eye-fucked by Lara.
"What's going on? What is that thing in the basement and how is it doing this to us?"
Lara smiled coyly and bid Seras to take one end of a loveseat by the window, over which was drawn a heavy, black curtain. "Do you know what I do for a living, Seras?"
"Er, no," said Seras, who thought she'd read an article in a magazine once about the famous Lara Croft, but hadn't been able to recall many details beyond the fact she was a figure of some controversy.
"I'm a collector," said Lara. "Some might say thief, bandit, or tomb raider, but most of what I find I turn over to the British Museum. I only keep things you might describe as troublesome."
"Troublesome, that's the word for it," said Seras, remembering how loud she'd screamed when she'd finally cum after hours of the most delicious, sucking agony.
"There's a room in this house I had built specifically for that object I'm sure you thought you were confiscating," said Lara. "The room is lined with certain materials and built in such a away that the idol's reach won't extend far outside the walls. I might have suffered some unusually frisky dreams while sleeping here, but nothing I couldn't live with."
Seras' eyes had fallen to the shaded cleft between Lara's breasts. She wanted to nuzzle them, to kiss them each in turn. "If we get the thing inside that room, will this all stop?"
"That's the hope. The idol is a conduit, a link between the world we can perceive to another one we can't. There's something on the other side of it reaching in, influencing things."
"A demon, sounds like," said Seras.
"Something along those lines, I suppose," said Lara. "Though no amount of holy water would ever bother it."
"Sounds like someone I used to know," said Seras, sadly.
"Right. Well, anyway, I'd planned to slip the thing into a special pouch, the one I had over your head for a bit while..."
While she'd fucked Seras with her pistol. Seras realized she'd only really met this woman for about fifteen minutes, the rest of their time together had been spent under insane circumstances. Who was this person, this woman who'd seen parts of Seras that she herself had only just met?
"I don't know if you'd noticed, but the idol has grown in physical size, likely fed by contact with you and the others," Lara said.
"And you, now," said Seras. "Is it still influencing us? I feel... I had this dream."
"I suspect that wasn't a dream," said Lara. "Who is that woman?"
"Her name is Hermione Granger," said Seras. "She was sent by the Ministry of Magic to spy on us and steal the idol. They think it's too dangerous for non-magical folk to have."
Hermione had told her much more than that. Much more. Seras had her laid out at the foot of the idol, its power infusing them both, binding them together. Everything Seras did brought Hermione to new heights of ecstasy, every lick, every suck, every probing finger. Seras had taken such cruel pleasure out of making Hermione cum until she couldn't breathe, out of keeping her on the edge of orgasm for hours at a time, she almost didn't care what lies the spy told or didn't tell. Once she knew all there was to know about Hermione, the Ministry, and her mission, Seras kept asking her questions. Did she have a boyfriend? How often did they fuck? Who fucked her better? Who did she want fucking her from now on? What was her name? Say it louder.
"Seras!" Lara shouted.
"Hmm? Oh, sorry, what?"
"You'd gone off for a bit there, love," said Lara. "We've got to bring that idol under control, and to do that I think we need to know about how it came to be out of control in the first place. What shape was it in when you found it?"
Seras thought back to that night, to the sensation of being pulled at by slimy tentacles and violated. She shuffled her long legs, feeling the wetness between them. "It was sitting on the TV stand in some bloke's room," said Seras. "There wasn't anyone around, it was like the ship had been abandoned."
"It was supposed to be inside a stone sarcophagus," said Lara. "The man I had smuggling it for me wouldn't have opened it."
"You're sure?"
"Positive," she said.
"Maybe the idol took control of someone," said Seras.
Lara's robe had been creeping open, the edge of the purple fabric not quite hiding the dark crescent of an areola. She shrugged her shoulders, her nipple slipped out. She noticed, but let it be, locking eyes with Seras. "You're filthy. Come, take a shower with me."
Fully aware of herself, Seras followed Lara into the bathroom. She gasped at the sight of it. White tiles, marble surfaces, gilded fixtures, an angel playing a harp wouldn't have looked out of place. Lara took off her robe to hang, looking sideways at Seras to do the same.
"This feels... different," said Seras, hanging her robe next to Lara's. She was filthy, had to agree. She felt sticky all over, especially her pussy.
"How do you mean?" said Lara, undoing her long, tight braid. She looked like a different woman with her hair down, as she turned the knob to the golden shower head nearby. Steam rose around them immediately. Seras watched as Lara stepped under the jets, her brown hair darkening in the hot water.
"Do you always invite strange women to shower with you?" said Seras, stepping under the water, wincing in pain. With her body always at room temperature, Seras was sensitive to sudden increases in hot or cold, but she adjusted quickly to anything short of open flame.
"Do you always accept invitations to shower with strange women?"
"You don't seem so strange," said Seras. "That's what I mean, doesn't this feel, I don't know, different from before?"
Lara pulled over a stool with her foot and bid Seras to sit on it while she fetched a soap and sponge. She started chaste, soaping Seras' back and arms, scrubbing them with the sea sponge, massaging supernaturally stiff muscles. Lara's fingers were absurdly powerful and Seras moaned as the knots in her were worked out.
"It does feel different," Lara said, soaping up Seras' breasts. She was gentle with the sponge, careful not to hurt the sensitive nipples she'd stiffened with her touch. "But I'm not sure I entirely trust my feelings right now."
Seras swallowed hard as Lara's fingers slipped into her pussy, finding her spot almost immediately. "Have you ever made yourself cum in the shower?"
"O-once or twice," said Seras, feeling like a rubber cord was being twisted up inside her.
"Only once or twice? You must've done it wrong, or you'd do it all the time," said Lara, her lips brushing Seras' ear.
"Is this... is this it? The thing back at the Hellsing Manor?"
"I don't know. Like you said, it feels different," said Lara, working her fingers deeper, holding Seras tighter to her wet, nude body. Her fingers, soft, powerful.
Seras looked up, saw only the white tile of the ceiling. She felt the cord inside her winding tighter, oozing a deep sense of calm anticipation the denser it became. Last night she'd been a meal. Ripped open, exposed, savored. She'd loved it, wanted to be eaten like that again and again, but this was altogether different. She was being fed, being given something, built up and protected. Soon the cord would snap and every fiber of her being would come undone, caught and gathered in Lara's arms.
"It feels good," Seras said before it all blew apart. There was no water, no stool, no tile under her feet, only Lara's wet skin, her living heat, lighting up the dead halls left dark by Seras' death years before.
When she returned to her senses she was gasping for breaths she didn't need, caught half off the wooden stool in Lara's embrace. She looked up into the woman's deep brown eyes, felt her lips part. Suddenly Lara pulled away, letting Seras gently to the floor. "I wouldn't trust any feeling too far, if I were you," she said. "At least for now."
Seras felt wet, alone. Old dishwater came to mind. She looked up at Lara, standing with her long, shapely legs spread, her wet, trim pubis on full display. "Of course, you can probably trust any feelings you might have about returning a favor," she said.
Seras stuck out her tongue as far as she could, enjoying the look on Lara's face as she showed off how agile it was. Lara sat down on the tiled floor and spread her legs, her expression that of someone strapping into a roller coaster as Seras crawled like a cat to its milk bowl. She began lapping, suddenly realizing all the women she'd licked had distinct flavors, none of which she could described beyond saying the woman's name. Integra. Hermione. Lara.
Lara.
"Seras," Lara said with each gasping breath as her own name was written across her clitoris over and over again. For fun, Seras wrote her own name, which on the second run brought Lara over. She held Seras by the hair, bringing her thighs tight together, a move that might've drowned a mortal woman but left Seras free to wiggle her tongue around against Lara's spasms.
Seras lay her head over Lara's pussy like a lioness over a kill, licking her lips clean. Slowly she crawled up Lara's body, hot water falling on them both. "If the sarcophagus is what was keeping the thing under control before, we should probably find it, or at least what's left of it," Seras said.
Sitting up, Lara nodded. "The Derleth hasn't gone anywhere, I saw to that much," she said. "We'll wait until nightfall, then search it."
Seras worried about what might happen at the Hellsing Manor between now and then, but figured it couldn't be helped. Going anywhere near the idol now would put her firmly back in its thrall, and given what she'd spent all night doing she needed some sleep.
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Idol Hands