phantomreviews

Havent wanked a bad phan phic in AAAAAAAAGES, so heres 2 for the price of one!

The first one is a horrendous Jekyll & Hyde/POTO crossover full of all those great Phantommy elements - Christine bots, dwarves and homoerotic lust.

The 2nd is an insane Les Mis crossover with Erik doing the timewarp again to meet an incontinent Eponine.  Enjoy!

PS Sorry if my deleted words dont show up.  I did it in MS Word and it totally fails at converting to LJ format, so I have had to go through this mess manually to try and re-add my comments.  Probably missed a bunch, but never mind.


CROSSOVER 1 - Jekyll and Hyde

It was nothing but a perfectly ordinary day. YAY FOR GRIPPING OPENING LINES! Erik was idly walking up and down the corridors by the dressing rooms, knowing no one would be here at this time of night, after all the performers had gone home. He'd been in Christine's room for a while, verifying that the CHRISTINE FEMBOT behind the mirror still worked. It wouldn't do to have his plan go awry when HIS POLYTHENE PAL refused to cooperate. But, really, after that was done, he didn't have much of a reason to be down by the dressing rooms. So now he was simply strolling around, making sure nothing was going terribly wrong.

The darkened halls were silent, his quiet FLATULENCE PROBLEM barely making a sound. He glanced into one or two of the larger communal dressing rooms for dancers and chorus singers, stopping to pick up a forgotten TAMPON. He twirled it in his fingers briefly before pocketing it and was about to continue on when he heard footsteps around the corner. Suddenly a rather nervous-looking man came barreling into the hall, clutching a  BARREL.

"Bernadette!" he called out, A HILBILLY accent obvious in his voice. "Bernadette, you left your EIGHTEEN YOUNG UN’S IN THE BARREL AGAIN, YOU COTTON PICKIN…" he trailed off when he saw the empty, darkened hall. "She's already left, hasn't she? WELL FRY MAH HIDE.  I suppose I could leave this in her dressing room…"

"Yes, your friend is gone YOU DISGUSTING INBRED HICK. Nearly everyone is gone at this time of night. I would have expected you to be gone as well."

The nervous man SQUEELED LIKE A PIG at the sound of Erik's voice, dropping the BARREL in his surprise. He quickly scrambled to retrieve the YOUNG UNS, calling out, "Who's there? I'm not doing anything wrong. THERE AINT NO LAW AGAINST CHICKEN MOLESTERING IN THESE HERE PARTS, AND I just… one of the singers left this backstage and I thought she might want it. I had hoped to catch her before she left."

Erik, deciding this might be something to WASTE MORE TIME THAT WOULD OTHERWISE BE SPENT IDLY WALKING UP AND DOWN THE EMPTY CORRIDORS with, stepped into the half-light coming in from the still-lit JOINT PROTRUDING FROM THE HILLBILLYS TOOTHLESS MOUTH. The other man dropped the BARREL  once more and SQUEELED quite a bit at the sight of the intimidating dark figure.

 “SQUEEEEEL PIGGY!”

"Who are you?" Erik asked, cutting off the man's  THUMB WITH HIS CIGAR CUTTER, BUT THE INBRED HICK DIDNT MIND BECAUSE HE HAD 3 THUMBS ANYWAY.

"I… I'm Henry. Henry Jekyll. I, well I don't work here, but I help out sometimes. It… gives me something to do, I suppose, BECAUSE I GET SO BORED WITH MY BUSY MEDICAL PRACTISE AND DOING EXPERIMENTS INTO THE NATURE OF MAN AND HELPING LITTLE GIRLS WALK AGAIN AT THE LOCAL HOSPITAL, I’M JUST SOOO BORED THESE DAYS.  OH, ER... SQUEEEL! ."

"Why are you here?"

"Here in the Opera House, here in Paris, or here in this hallway? ((LOL)) I'm sorry, but you weren't very specific."

"All of them, YOU DIRTY  PIG FONDLER."

"Oh… all right, then. I, well, I explained why I'm at the Opera House, and I explained about the BARREL. I… I'm in Paris because… I, I needed… a change of CLOTHES, I’M LOOKIN’ FOR A NICE TAFETA BALLGOWN. I'm on a holiday, of sorts."

"I see. Do you often go sneaking about the Opera House at night?"

(( HELLO KETTLE.  I’M THE POT.  YOUR BLACK! ))

"No, almost never. I… just wanted to return Bernadette's YOUNG UNS." He'd stopped shivering by this point, but still looked rather INBRED. Erik was sure he was afraid he was in some sort of great danger, with a frightening man in FILTHY DUNG SPLATTERED OVERALLS AND A PITCHFORK interrogating him in the hallway. Really, though, he'd begun to tire of the man's stuttering, scared answers. He was a bit of a boring fellow, AS OPPOSED TO WILD PARTY ANIMAL ERIK, WHO SPENT HIS SATURDAY NIGHTS WALKING UP AND DOWN CORRIDORS. 

"I am sure that if you leave it in her dressing room she'll find HER YOUNG ONES tomorrow."

"Oh, , YEEE HAW, I was thinking that." Henry nodded eagerly, EIGHTEEN GENERATIONS OF SIBLING MARRIAGE AND SLACK JAWED YOKELLRY obvious in his voice. When Erik said nothing, he hurriedly dropped the BARREL on a table in one of the dressing rooms before coming back out to wait for Erik's command like an obedient PIGGY.

"You may leave, if you wish."

"Yes, thank you." Henry walked quickly out of the hallway and disappeared around the corner once more. That little bit of entertainment done with, Erik decided to just head home and try to find something to do LIKE WATCHING ROACHES MATE OR COUNTING THE KNOT HOLES IN THE FLOOR. He wasn't in the mood to meet up with other late night wanderers.

Erik had been watching the sceneshifter for several minutes, AND WAS DISTRESSED WHEN HE FOUND IT WAS TURNING HIM ON , trying to figure out why the man had struck his attention in the first place. His appearance didn't set off any alarm bells- he looked just like one of the many rough, hardened backstage workers, with the exception of being a bit smaller than most, JUST UNDER 3 FOOT. He wasn't doing anything unusual, perhaps getting a bit too close to the EASY GLIDER DELUXE CHRISTINE BOT WITH REALISTIC STRETCH VAG INTERIOR MODEL 2.4 down here in the third cellar, but he didn't show any sign of knowing it was there. HE WAS SO SHORT HE WALKED RIGHT THROUGH THE LEGS, AND GOT A CLIT ROUND THE EAR.  Erik wasn't sure why, since he could find no logical reason for it, but something about the man just seemed wrong. Perhaps it was his appearance after all, OR PERHAPS IT WAS THE EIGHT FOOT LONG, EXTRA HAIRY LEG THAT WAS DANGLING SLACKLY FROM HIS FOREHEAD. Erik scrutinized the sceneshifter once more, and felt the same sense of something being slightly off, but found nothing to explain it. It must have been his imagination, OR HIS PILCHARD SANDWICHES IN HIS POCKET THAT HE FORGOT TO THROW AWAY LAST MONTH, perhaps he needed some sleep… COFFIN TIME!

Suddenly the man moved decidedly too close to the CHRISTINE BOT for comfort and if he didn't move away quickly, he was going to find himself trapped in the middle of a rather unpleasant African jungle, AKA CHRISTINES BUSH. Erik toyed with the idea of simply letting the oaf fall into the EXTRA WIDE SUPER STRETCH VAG CANAL, it would certainly provide him with a laugh or two, but eventually decided that he had better things to do, such as WATCHING PAINT DRY.  The fools still hadn't gotten it through their thick skulls that when the local ghost requested  THE WINDOW TO THE FEMALE SHOWER ROOMS to be left open, they really ought to OPEN IT…

The sceneshifter tripped, apparently over his own THREE feet, and went stumbling headfirst into the backdrop from Le Prophete. Erik cursed under his breath as he darted out from behind the opposite backdrop and pulled the grubby man away before he fell into the now-gaping hole OF THE CHRISTINE BOTS PLEASURE CENTRE. He dropped the shocked man unceremoniously on the floor, quickly closing the EASY STRETCH VAG CANAL and turning to leave as the man called out.

"When did the old backdrops get CREEPY SEX BOTS?" His French was rough and heavily accented with what Erik pegged as an ANNOYING, COMICAL, MIRANA RICHARDSON-ESQUEaccent.

"When I chose to put them there." Hopefully his comment would be cryptic enough that the man would puzzle over it, giving him enough time to leave for the managers' office BECAUSE SOME DEFORMED SCENE SHIFTER FINDING ERIKS SECRETS JUST DOESNT MATTER COMPARED TO THE WEIGHTIER ISSUES IN LIFE.

"You put them there? What are you, the Opera Ghost?"

Erik stiffened briefly, THE MAN WAS STILL SO DAMNED ATTRACTIVE, before forcing himself to relax BY SMACKING HIS BULGE WITH A LUMP HAMMER, but deemed the question unworthy of an answer.

Receiving no reply, the man continued on. "Why did you save me? THAT WAS THE CLOSEST I GOT TO A FACEFULL OF BUSH IN MY WHOLE LIFE!"

"It would have been too much of an inconvenience to me if you'd fallen through, I CAN ONLY GET THOSE REALISTIC INTERIORS FROM VERY SPECIALIST ONLINE RETAILERS IN AMSTERDAM, AND MY PAYPAL ACCOUNT IS ALL BUT EMPTY."

"Oh, an inconvenience to you? What about to me? I think I would have been pretty inconvenienced. NO WAIT, I WOULD HAVE ENJOYED IT ACTUALLY"

"I have better things to do than stand here and listen to you talk to yourself.  LIKE WALKING UP AND DOWN CORRIDORS.   If you don't mind…" He turned to leave the room, but the man had sprinted across the room and grabbed him just as he was mulling over the sceneshifter's insolent audacity.  “INSOLENT BOY!” HE THOUGHT TO HIMSELF.

"I do mind, actually," he nearly purred, LAPPING FROM A SAUCER OF MILK AND pushing a knife against Erik's throat. "And you're not leaving this room unless you promise not to tell anyone you saw me here.

 

((WOAH WOAH WOAH ISNT THIS SCENARIO SORT OF UPSIDE DOWN AND INSIDE OUT?  SHOUDLNT IT BE ERIK HOLDING THE KNIFE AND MAKING HIM PROMISE NOT TO TELL WHAT THE SCENESHIFTER FOUND?))

 

I have things I don't want the rest of the Opera finding out about... LIKE WHAT I DO WITH RATS IN AN EVENING." 

"Everyone has secrets," Erik replied as he easily disarmed the man and trapped him a vice-like VICE. "I don't share secrets. Not yours, and especially not my own. If you have any care for your own life, you will stay away from this cellar. If I see you down here again, I won't hesitate to throw you down that OH SO STRETCHY, WET VAG CANAL myself. And the next time you attempt to threaten my life, your own will be over before you can understand what is happening."

He released the man, who scrambled for the door, glaring at Erik all the while. Erik ignored his UNDENIABLE GOOD looks, HE WAS IN LOVE AND HE KNEW IT, THIS WAS SIMPLY A LOVERS SPAT.   disappearing into darkness to head for the managers' office. If they didn't understand this time, he would make them wish they'd never set eyes on box five.

It was impossible to ignore by now- the loud humping on Erik's door. He'd tried to ignore it at first, but soon it became too bothersome to ignore. “GET A ROOM, YOU SHOW OFFS!” HE CRIED.  He still hadn't the slightest idea who would be knocking SOMEONE UP on his door, but it would probably be best to find out. If nothing else, it would stop the knocking UP.

He opened the door on a vaguely familiar very frantic, very wet man.

 

((LOL, I GOT NOTHIN’....))

 

Erik was about to ask the man who he was, but that was quickly taken care of.

"I-it's me, Henry Jekyll," the man panted, wringing the LOVE JUICE out of his SWOLLEN MEMBER and dripping all over Erik's doorstep. "You're the one I saw that night a couple weeks ago, a-after the show by the d-dressing rooms? EXCUSE M-M-M-M-Y S-S-S-S-STUTTER!"

Erik continued to stare silently as Jekyll caught his LIPS WITH A PASSIONATE KISS and a small puddle pooled around his feet.  ((EWWW!))

"Do you remember me?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I just swam across the l-lake. IM IN TRAINING FOR THE GUINESS BOOK OF RECORDS “FASTEST HILLBILLY TO SWIM A LAKE WHILE PLAYING A BANJO” WORLD RECORD.  I wasn't aware there was a lake down here. I don't remember how I arrived here, really, THEM DRUGS SURE MAKE ME FORGETFUL. Can I come in YOU, please? I'm in a terrible bit of trouble."

Erik stepped aside wordlessly and Jekyll tripped inside HIM, pulling the door closed after himself. As he stood shivering and dripping on the rug ((EWWWWWWW!!!)), Erik finally spoke up.

"In what sort of trouble are you attempting to involve me?"

"N-No, I wasn't trying to… well, I… I-I think I killed someone."

Erik raised a surprised eyebrow behind the mask ((FIRST MENTION OF A MASK AND WE ARE 5 PAGES IN)) . He wouldn't have thought the man had enough  HAND-EYE CO-ORDINATION.
"But it wasn't like that," he quickly explained. "I didn't kill him. Well, I did, but I… I wasn't myself at the time. I couldn't control it… him. I… I suppose you'll see in a minute or so. I’M coming."

Jekyll laughed hollowly and Erik looked at him in confusion until his face was suddenly contorted with pain and he dropped to the floor. Now Erik watched with a sort of alarmed fascination as Jekyll squirmed and writhed and screamed on his floor. When he finally stilled and stood up once more, his appearance had changed.

The, still vaguely familiar, man now standing in front of Erik was ABOUT 4 FEET smaller than the lanky Jekyll, and Jekyll's SWILL STAINED OVERALLS hung on him oddly. His hair was a bit longer and uncombed JUST LIKE A...WIG! WIGGG!!! , his features were rough, he looked muscled beneath the loose-hanging clothing, and something about him seemed somehow wrong. It was then that Erik realized why the man looked familiar.  IT WAS THE EXTRA LEG THAT DID IT...

"Remember me?" the sceneshifter growled.

"Yes. DARLING!! The last time we met, you nearly landed yourself in my PLEASURE chamber then decided to make empty threats to the man who'd just saved you and confessed to putting the trapdoor there himself."  ((WOW TRY SAYING THAT QUICKLY THREE TIMES WITH A MOUTH FULL OF TOFFEE!))

The sceneshifter's confident expression had wavered slightly at the words ' PLEASURE chamber', but he remained otherwise unaffected by Erik's words. "Empty threats? I just BONKED a sceneshifter who got on my bad side. Or should I say my good side? Want to know something?" He took a few steps closer to Erik, leaning up toward his face with a crazed glint in his eye. "It felt amazing. I've never felt better."

Erik shoved the man back a few steps. "I regret that you have a problem I cannot help. HERES THE PHONE NUMBER FOR JERRY SPRINGER.  Did you have a reason for coming down here? I'm almost positive it was you who ran away down to the lowest cellar you could find. Fitting for such a lowly piece of society's scum. Or did you come only to boast to me about your accomplishments? I assure you I have no interest in the subject, I’M ONLY INTERESTED IN WALKING UP AND DOWN CORRIDORS."

"I…" For a moment the man looked confused, struggling for words. "I'm Hyde, by the way. Edward FLORENCE Hyde."

"A very important piece of information, I'm sure. Again, Monsieur iHyde /i, why are you here?"

"I… don't want to get caught," Hyde mumbled. "I knew you could do something about it. Perhaps the Opera Ghost could take ME OUT TO THE BALL GAME…"

"No," Erik answered shortly.

"I don't want to run again. That was too much work. I can't be forced out of the Opera House, AT LEAST NOT UNTIL THE GILBERT AND SULLIVAN SEASON IS UPON US. I could stay here…"

"No."

"You could help me EAT the body WITH SOME FLAVA BEANS, before they…"

"No."

"There must be something you could DOOOOOO…" HE BEGAN SINGING THAT SONG OUT OF “GREASE THE MUSICAL”.

"No. I refuse to entangle myself in your BIG STRONG ARMS, YOU HEARTBREAKER!. You made the mistake of SCREWING a man and putting yourself in danger of being caught. It is no fault of mine that you are an amateur who can't cover up his work. You are the one who can deal with the circumstances. YOU ARE THE WEAKEST LINK... Goodbye, Monsieur Hyde."

Erik picked up the man by his GONADS and dragged him back outside to the banks of the lake. Hyde protested and squirmed, but soon found himself KIND OF ENJOYING IT, kneeling in the chilling water of the underground lake. Erik dropped his NUTS and Hyde forced himself to remain upright and not fall face-first in the water.

"If you come back to my home, you will quickly find yourself cooking ME A BIG STEAK DINNER TO SAY SORRY , , drowning in YOUR OWN JUICES, or being strangled by the Punjab lasso. If you are lucky, you may get to choose which of the three you prefer."

Erik abruptly turned and began walking back to his house.

"Why do we always part with threats? WHAT ABOUT A KISS, YOU TEASE!" Hyde called after Erik's retreating figure. He received no answer and was left alone in the lake, clothes seeping up questionably clean water.

Erik personally hoped he'd never see either of them again.  NO MAN COULD COMPARE TO THE PURE PLEASURE OF THE SUPER DELUXE CHRISTINE BOT V 2.4 WITH REALISTIC SUPER STRETCH, EASY GLIDE VAG CANAL WITH FAST WIPE INTERIOR.



And now the Les Mis horror...



A UFO descended over the nighttime streets of Paris. It was too dim to clearly see, rippling between the houses and around the opera.

Into this faint unseen glow walked the shadowed figure of a man, whose golden RIMMED SPECTACLES seemed to reflect the glow and make it amplified.

The shimmer collapsed, and the world whirled. OR DID THE WHIRLED WORLD?

Erik fell through the tapestry of existence, WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! landing again in the nighttime streets of Paris, changed into those of an earlier time. He looked around, taking in the changes. With all the sadness, perhaps I have become mad, OR FALLEN INTO A REALLY BAD CROSSOVER PHAN PHIC. Well, he was not to think of that now, I’LL THINK OF IT TOMMOROW.  AND I’LL NEVER GO HUNGRY AGAIN!!!. Nothing looked right... but ignore that. (( WOW HE TAKES THIS SUDDEN TIMEWARP THING BETTER THAN DAVID COPPERFIELD IN THAT TERRIBLE “SECRETS OF THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA” TV SPECIAL)) His intended last words to give to the Persian still fresh in his mind, “YOU ASTRAKAN WEARING FREAK! WHY DONT YOU MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS AND LEAVE ME IN PEACE!” he set through the streets, trying to find his way in a city transformed. But as the night wore on, he realized that WITHOUT THE AID OF HIS SAT NAV he had become lost, the landmarks no longer familiar. EVEN THE MCDONALDS AND STARBUCKS WERE NO LONGER THERE.

He passed a few small houses and endearments (?) in shadow; it seemed as if night had just fallen. Without knowing it, Erik passed a small garden in which an elderly man was reading DIRTY MAGAZINES. As the sun was rising, AS IT OFTEN DOES WHEN NIGHT HAS JUST FALLEN,  he grew nervous... if he should be seen, well, in the open... he could not let himself be INDECENTLY exposed AGAIN, HE HAD A COURT ORDER ABOUT THAT! He looked around, frantically, not seeing any good hiding place nearby.

"Père SHIA Ma beuf," said a man's voice from the garden a few steps away; "would you like me to water your garden WITH MY PEE PEE?"

Erik Farted behind a fencepost, looking out to see who had spoken; not a man at all, actually.

A frail girl stepped out, AND FRAIL GIRLS VOICES DO SOUND SO MUCH LIKE A MANS DONT THEY,  into the garden, before the elderly man. She was very young, perhaps around the age of sixteen, and wearing nothing, her arms hidden by a WELL READ COPY OF twilight. Her appearance AND LACK OF FAITH was disturbing, though her face not unpleasant—had she not been battered by the DEEP FAT FRYER, she may very well have been pretty. Now, though, her face was shallow, her eyes bleak, and some of her BRAINS missing THANKS TO A GAPING HOLE IN HER CRANIUM. It must have been her, Erik realized, who had been speaking to the old man.

The elderly man, SHIA Ma beuf, as she had called him, seemed alarmed by her sudden and almost ghostly appearance. Before he could say anything, the girl had filled the watering can WITH HER OWN URINE and was going from plant to plant, soaking each, the EPO-water spilling onto her bare feet.  SHE GENTLY SUNG TO HERSELF “A LITTLE DROP OF PEE CAN HARDLY HURT YOU NOW...”

Erik backed into the shadows, his eyes coming aglow again as he receded into the darkness. Poor girl. Poor ailing girl. POOOOR THING, HE HUMMED A SWEENEY TODD TUNE.  His eyes turned back to his surroundings, and he edged into an alleyway. And poor, lost Erik, WHATCHA GONNA DO? YOUR IN 1832, HEY WHATCHA GONNA DO. Where would he go? It would be a long way to the opera house, if he could even find it anymore, BECAUSE, YOU KNOW, IT WASNT BUILD ALL THEM YEARS AGO. OR WAS IT?

He faintly heard the old man say, "You must be A LUNATIC, for you EAT THE flowers."

"I am noLUNATIC," said the other. "I'm a demon, but it's all the same...to me."
The next part of the conversation was quiet, and Erik couldn't hear it, although more than once the girl asked after a Monsieur Marius. The old man gave a long, GUTTERAL FART and suddenly the girl ran from the garden, her eyes STREAMING. She didn't notice Erik, even though she sped past him ON HER MOTORBIKE.

Once she had left, Erik continued on his way. If he could not find the way to the opera house soon, at least he should find some place of refuge. After wandering for a time, he came to an old market-garden WHOREhouse, in which he decided to SPEND the night WITH A PROSTITUTE.  “OHHH EPONINE”, ERIK SAID.  “MY NAME IS MADDIE”, SAID MADDIE, FOR T’WAS HER NAME.  “TONIGHT, YOUR NAME IS EPONINE, BITCH!”

If the world changes around me, he thought, it must be that I am changing within it. ((HUH?)) When I realize that there is no one in the world to love me for myself, and that it only remains that I should die, surely then comes the time that I can no longer see the world as it is. Nothing will stay constant! Christine must be torn from me, and I must let it pass. Everything else must change. It is as if I am in my own chamber of mirrors, to see a new world, one without the hope of Christine loving me, without even the same Paris. And there is no escape but to die.  ((SORRY I DIDNT UNDERSTAND A WORD OF THAT EXPOSITION))

His mind wandered further and further into darkness. It is my own torture... if no one can care for me, there must be no one. Erik must be shut away. Everything will be shut away. All my desires went to Christine, and now they are passed away. His thoughts deepened, lonely, bereft, and muted into a calm feeling of emptiness, until there was nothing left.

DUNNO WHAT THAT WAS ALL ABOUT EITHER.  I GOT NOTHIN’.

 

 

Hi guys, recently I've been taking a break from reviewing Phantom movies (well, more ran out of the damned things) so I've started reviewing the books. I've taken a look at the trinity of Leroux, Kay, and finally...Forsythe! Part 1 of my brutal assasination of FF's awful Phantom of Manhattan is now online! Yay!


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p_b… Leroux Review

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F0c… Susan Kays "Phantom" Review

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=myb… Phantom of Manhattan Part 1

Part 2 coming soon...

With a title like “Black Roses Don't Always Mean Death” I was well and truly fascinated!

Taken from this monstrosity

 

I do not own Phantom of the Opera sadly...Thank the lord!!!

Today was a day just like any other well for me anyways. (Dont you hate it when people say ANYWAYS. Unless its an amazingly intelligent way of showing us we are in the modern day time frame rather than the past? Nah, I think shes just a dumbass.)It's 3:00pm on a Friday and I just got out of school. I look around at all of the kids laughing and talking with friends and some calling their parents to ask for rides and permission to go out on the weekend. I don't do either of these anymore. My parents died in a car accident last fall, it was just after my eighteenth birthday... and it put a real downer on my planned night of drunken debauchery, I can tell you. lucky me. I inherited everything including a small but comfortable house in the enchanted forest outside of town which I share with a green Ogre called Shrek. As for friends I have only ever had one true friend Raoul de Changy, (do people in the modern day have DE in between first and last names anymore?) but he moved away right before my parents died his father got an offer from the company he worked for that he could not refuse. He found a dead horse in his bed. There's nothing wrong with me, I could make friends if I tired (if you TIRED? TRIED! TRIED!), but ever since the death of my parents I couldn't look at other people without feeling jealous of their families and how happy they were. I sigh and walk to my little blue Toyota under the tree. I get in and start towards my home.

About half an hour of watching the houses get further and further away (WTF? When you drive houses get nearer and nearer. Is she driving BACKWARDS? Or driving forwards while looking out the rear window? THATS DANGEROUS, WOMAN!) I pull into my driveway and stop the car. I open the door and walk over to the mailbox on the side of the house. There's a couple of bills and a magazine or two nothing of interest. I dig around in my pockets for my keys, just as I am about to turn the door knob the feeling is back. You know that feeling you get when someone is watching you? Well I have it all the time. (It's called paranoia, sweetie) And I mean all the time everyday, everywhere I go I feel as if someone or something is watching and waiting. I scan the tree line and see nothing, suppressing a shudder I turn the knob and go inside. I set the mail on the table and turn on the stove to make tea. I pull my ipod from my backpack, put on my headphones and press play. (dont you think this “writer” spends an awful lot of time describing in great detail every mundane detail of the day that has nothing to do with the plot? Well, two can play at that game...) I then found the battery was dead so I went to the car, put the keys in the ignition and drove all the way to the nearby town, watching my house get further and further away and I nearly hit a car doing that, he screamed “you dumb bitch!” but that happens to me a lot anyway so I dont really mind, anyways where was I oh yes I went to the shop and bought some batteries but I ddint have enough money so I went to the nearby red light district and made a few dollars by pretending to be some guys grandmother called Iris and after that I could buy the batteries so I drove home watching the red light district get smaller and smaller in the distance and I hit a tree because I should have been looking out the front really but never mind, anwyays after that I walked home backwards and hit my front door and dropped my keys and when I got inside I put the batteries in and then my ipod said I had an error with my digital rights management so I went online and loaded up internet explorer and went to itunes.com to download the firmware or whatever that is but it said I didnt have enough space so I repartitioned my external hard drive to get an extra 3gb of space and downloaded the drivers and installed it on my ipod but then I realised that I had formatted the drive with my mp3s on so I had nothing to listen to except the free mp3 that came on the ipod so I had no choice but to listen to The sweet sound of "Dark Waltz" sung by Hayley Westenra sounds in my ears. I sing alone belting the cat out the high notes as I dance around the kitchen.

We are the lucky ones
We shine like a thousand suns
When all of the color runs together

I'll keep you company
In one glorious harmony
Waltzing with destiny forever

I continue my trip around the kitchen preforming (PREforming?) what I remember from ballet. I soon move on going into the living room.

Dance me into the night
Underneath the moon shining so bright
Turning me into the light

Time dances whirling past
I gaze through the looking glass
And feel just beyond my grasp is heaven

Sacred geometry
Where movement is poetry
Visions of you and me forever

Copying and pasting extensive sections of lyrics doesn't count as real writing, you know.

Careful not to trip or hit any furniture I pretend to waltz with an invisible man all the while my singing echoes through the empty house.

The Invisible Man sounded like Claude Rains to me, and he kept saying “Why are we dancing? Were wasting time! I have the POWERRR to RULE! To make nations GROVEL AT MY FEET! Even the moon is frightened of me. Frightened to death! The whole world is frightened to death!” but I didnt know what he was talking about because I dont watch movies that are older than 1997.

 

Dance me into the night
Underneath the moon shining so bright
Turning me into the light

Dance me into the night
Underneath the moon shining so bright
Let the dark waltz begin
Oh let me wheel - let me spin
Let it take me again
Turning me into the light

I let out the final note letting it ring throughout the hall. Sighing I turn around and head back into the kitchen to get my tea when I see something black move out of the corner of my eye. It may have been my pupil. I whirl around still panting from singing and dancing, to see absolutely nothing. I should have known, I was being foolish of course there's no one there I live alone and have no one that would ever visit, not when I spend my days singing Hayley Westernra.. Still I can't dismiss that feeling, it's comforting (feeling there is someone watching you is comforting?) but creepy I am not sure what to think of it. I go back into the kitchen and was about to grab my tea when I realize that I didn't lock the door when I came in because I walked in backwards . Oh well, it's not as if I need to, I snort as I'm turning into a pig and I make my way to the back door. I reach out and lock the door with a resounding 'click', close my eyes and spin around on my heel and right into a solid object. An object that I don't recognize and has according to my hearing a heartbeat. (WHAT?? Does she have superhuman hearing?) My eyes open wide as I see a figure dressed in all black with a white mask covering the right side of his face. (Oh great, another Gerik story, perchance?) I let out a scream that could rival screech owls Hayley Westernra and bolted to the kitchen. I made it about ten feet before strong fricking long arms caught me around me waist (is she a cockney? “Ee cort me rand me waist, ee did!”) dragging me back and a white cloth with some nasty smelling liquid was pushed over my mouth and nose. “Sorry, I have a cold and this handkerchief is used,” he said. I looked up and saw black eyes gazing down at mewith victory, pity, determination and... guilt mixed with another emotion I couldn't quite place. Well at least I think they're black they're so dark everything is getting dark. I swayed back and forth slowly before my world went as dark as the man's eyes.

Read and review please let me know what you think. Advice and tips welcome!!! Give it up before its too late?

 

Chapter Two !

 

I sat up with a jolt, breathing coming in short painful gasps. My head spinning I bit back a sob as I looked around the room. It was perfect. The walls were a deep midnight blue and white lace curtains veiling a large window with a window seat. Posters of my favorite movies adorned the walls along with a rack of CDs all of which I owned or had wanted. A shiver ran down my spine as I realized how much this man knew about me. Man?... Oh! All of my memories flooded back at once like a river bursting through a dam. I have to get out of here! I wrenched the covers off of me and moved to stand up. I made it a couple of steps before something gave a sharp tug around my waist and I plummeted to the plush carpeted floor my breath knocked out of my lungs.

Once I had caught my breath, my hand went instinctively to my waist the source of my demise. My fingers wound around a rope of fine blue silk. Aparently I cant spell and the room had come complete with luxurious restraints. Oh no! I've been kidnapped by a S&M freak! Great, just great I thought as I slunk back onto the bed. I buried my head into the soft pillows and screamed. I put my all into that scream. Maybe I should have tried it not into a pillow as it would have been louder and more effective. I screamed for my parents, my pain, my sorrow, my fear and most of all I would never hear Hayley Westernra in concert again for my life. Finally after emptying my bowels and bladder lungs, silence engulfed the oom. (The oom?)I panted , slowly turning into a dog, tears running down my big floppy spaniels ears face trying to gain composure. I felt my muscles begin to relax, only to tense immediately from the sound of five three staccato knocks upon the door. Shave and a haircut – TWO BITS! I held my breath as I heard the jingle of keys, a lock snap open and watched as the doorknob slowly turned.

In stepped my captor. He looked about twenty-five, medium build, strong but not bulky. He wore black leather underwear , dressshoes,what looked to be tailored black slacks and a white poets shirt with the first couple of buttons undone reavealing a pale chiseled chest. He still wore the gimp white mask, it contrasted greatly with his apparel and his raven hair. After looking him up and down I looked into his eyes. I found myself paralyzed by the amber orbs, they seemed to bore into my being. (Well, its certainly starting to bore me) Searching for what I did not know. I let out a slow shaky breath and waited. He stood in the doorway his mouth opening and closing as her struggled to speak. (Oh, Erik is a woman now? The correct wording should be SHE struggled. Oh wait, I think she means he. Dont you proof read?) After what seemed like an eternity his mouth snapped shut only to open again this time forming words.

" I apologize for last night and the rope," He smiled sheepishly gesturing to the blue silk with his chin. "But I had to be sure you wouldn't run off."

" I do hope the room is to your liking. I designed it myself," he sighed as he walked slowly into the room closing the door behind him. Wait, let me get this straight. this guy kidnaps me and the first thing he does is apologize and ask my opinion of the room?! (Yeah, I know, isnt the writing awful!) I was snapped out of my trance when I saw he was moving closer. I stumbled on the bed, my limbs flailing, trying to get as far away as the rope allowed. He grimaced at my attempts and sat down on the edge of the bed making a visible effort not to frighten me. After an uncomfortable silence I spoke my voice faltering, " Who are you? Where am I? Why am I here? What have you done with... My I... Ipod...," I bit my lip to hold back the tears.

"Oh! How rude of me!," he exclaimed. " My name is Erik, you're in my home and as for the last question...all in due time, my dear. I'm just in the process of copying some better mp3s to it. Hayley Westernra, indeed!" He smiled a grim smile awaiting my reply.

"When are you going to let me go," I inquired tears filling up my eyes threatening to overflow.

"Never, Myahahahahaha!" he replied without hesitation his eyes burning with determination. That's when I lost it. I couldn't hold it back anymore. Sobs racked my small form and I wrapped my arms around myself trying to hold on to my escaping breasts. I shuddered as I felt two arms snake around my waist pulling me into an embrace. I don't know why I let him. Maybe it was because I was emotionally and physically exhausted. Either way I didn't care that this man had kidnapped me, at this point any comfort was welcome even coming from him. I flung my arms around him and cried into his chest. He pulled me close until his mouth was next to my ear. I could hear him whispering words of reassurance in a feeble attempt to sooth me. I made out the words, "No harm will come to you."

Soon my sobs faded to sniffles as I pulled away to meet his eyes. They were so remorseful and I thought a saw a glimmer of a tear. He blinked it away before I could have a closer look. "If you aren't going to hurt me then why am I here? I have no relatives to give you money. It's not that I am not grateful for you peaceful intentions, but I still don't understand why.," I choked on the last word my voice breaking, damned puberty!

"Christine," his voice sounded like a gentle carebearss. Like soft velvet in that little boys smile. Blaaack Velvet.... running across my skin.

" I could never do anything that would cause you pain. Apart from when you fell off the bed earlier due to my restraints but you shouldnt have been trying to walk backwards. What the hells wrong with you??? I cannot reveal my reason for you're being here, but in time all will become clear.," (ooh we have so much of this story with no punctuation and now we have a period AND a comma! Woohoo!) He spoke quietly, but with conviction.

" Now," he said a new cheer in his tone. "If I untie you do you promise not to run?" I sniffed and nodded slightly. His hands reached behind him and reappeared with a large knife. I swallowed hard and pedaled back on my scooter until my back hit the headboard (this girl has REALLY got to stop going backwards, it causes so many accidents) . His smile soon became a frown, his mask moving down with the corners of his mouth.

"Christine, I told you I would never hurt you. Please trust me.," his amber eyes soft and pleading. Hmmm... says the man that drugged me and took me from my home for no apparent reason. (Why, its almost like the author is pointing out flaws in her own characters dialogue! That saves me a job!) Though he did comfort me and this room is quite flattering. What choice do I have? (Scream for your life and try to escape?) I scooted closer to him and shut my eyes as he reached for me. A short tug later, I let out a breath as the corset pressure around my waist disappeared. I opened my eyes to see that the knife was hidden again and Erik was standing offering me his hand. He grinned as I put my hand in his and he began to lead me to the door.

 

Chapter 6

Seduction

Left alone in the Westcott Inn’s dining room, the Marquess (Marquis?)of Brookridge ordered a brandy and waited. He’d promised his companion that he would allow her some private time upstairs in her room – time to freshen up and time to decide if she wanted to invite him in for the night.

Gratefully, Mary did not return from the kitchen to visit with him further. He was not in the mood for small-talk and facing his Gerard butler’s mother, a woman who had been much like a mother to him as well, would certainly put a damper on his current state of mind.

Stephen Hawkins muttered silent curses at the slow progression of the wall clock. voice recognition computer. He would allow her a half hour, and then he would go upstairs. Surely that was ample time for her to prepare.

In his mind, the decision was already made. He did not seriously question her willingness to admit him; she’d shown her interest in a dozen unspoken ways throughout the evening. Still, something nagged at the back of his neck.  Damned fleas. It was an uneasy feeling, as if a piece to the puzzle he was creating had been forced into its place.

Perhaps I am out of practice, he told himself.

Unexpected dalliances with beautiful strangers were not the type of entertainments he normally enjoyed. He was more of a Super Mario Galaxy man.  Mistresses were for sexual appetites, while brief encounters with handsome women were usually kept in the far safer realm of flirtation.

This woman had already proven to be quite surprising. He’d enjoyed the afternoon and evening spent talking with her. She was refreshing and unique, but Hawkins could not simply abandon the matter there. He wanted her, with a drive that he could not recall having felt before. And if this frustratingly uneasy feeling refused to abate on its own, he would talk with her, forcing it from existence so that they might move ahead with the pleasurable night he envisioned.

Thirty minutes elapsed before he rose from the table, settled the bill, and left through the same door Christina had used earlier. A long hallway led to the room she occupied, and while the lateness of the hour meant that no other patrons roamed about, he felt their presence beyond closed doors on either side.  What, hes Darth Vader now?

The sputtering of oil lamps accompanied his footsteps as Hawkins stepped tentatively to the door. He did not use the handle but pushed the planking itself.

At first he did not notice her, only a large bed with a single candle flickering on the table beside it. A fire burned within the hearth to his left, and it was there that he found her, bathed in the fire’s warming glow.

Her back was to him, one hand placed delicately on the mantle piece with an empty wine glass perched between her fingertips. Her hair was unbound, the light from the fire setting the flowing tresses ablaze in ribbons of gold and red.  I threw a bucket of water over her to quench the blaze.  Her damned head was on fire, the stupid bint!

He quietly closed the door, placing his hat on a nearby chair before slowly moving toward her.

“Just so that we are clear, Mr. Hawkins . . .”

“Erik,” he corrected.

Her head lifted slightly but she did not turn. “I have allowed you in, Erik, but that does not mean that I need welcome you further.”

He chuckled inwardly, “I am at the lady’s disposal,” he said, moving up behind her so that he could slide a gentle hand down her arm.

An excited shiver rippled through Christina but nerves sent her stepping away. Turning toward him, she motioned to a small table where another wineglass sat beside an opened bottle. “Would you like some more wine?” she asked.

“No, thank you. I had a drink downstairs,” he said, coming closer.

Hard as she tried, Christina could not stop the flutters in her belly.  What a time for her diaharea to return.  This was what she wanted, she reminded herself. And now, after seeing the dark, smoldering look in Erik’s eyes, after watching the panther-like way he carried a dead gazelle in his mouth his tall, broad-shouldered form toward her, she wanted it all the more. But something inside her would not relent; something was refusing to allow her the simple comfort of steady breathing.

Hawkins’ body had sparked to life the moment he’d entered the room. It's alive!  ITS ALIVE!!  That long, flowing hair and lean, sensuous body was enough to bring any man to his knees, but it was her eyes that captivated him. Depth and humanity dwelled in those shimmering green pools, but along with it, lived knowledge and pain far more advanced than her tender years should warrant.

Hawk watched her carefully, caught between his fascination at her constant contradictions and the uneasy feeling that he may have miscalculated the situation.

She turned back to the fire, finding it easier staring into the flames rather than his consuming gaze.

Hawk found this little game amusing but still prefered Mario, and moved in behind her, splaying his fingers wide and running them down the length of her silky hair. Christina’s pulse quickened. Unaware that he was watching her in the mirror’s reflection, she allowed her eyes to drop shut out.  Curse that cut price laser eye suregery!

This eager response pleased him so he moved even closer, feeling her body’s heat through his clothing, he placed one hand at her waist while the other trailed along her neck, dipping beneath her hair where his fingers began a game all their own.  "Catch the flea! 

“Have you ever been loved before, Christina?”

Shocked from nervous introspection, her eyes blinked open. “Have I ever been in love?”

“No, sweetheart. Have you ever made love?”

Floundering somewhere between her pride being wounded, the vulgarity of the question, and the realization that he asked it out of concern that she may be like a virgin, touched for the very first time, Christina found herself in the odd position of defending her character while still portraying herself as a wanton woman. Searching for a response, she settled that perhaps deflection was the best approach.

“That’s hardly an appropriate question to ask a lady. I would never presume to ask you such a thing.”

He chuckled vomited into her hair. “No, I’m sure you wouldn’t.” He reached around, turning her within his arms until they faced one another. “You have a face and body that beg to be worshipped, Christina . . .” he ran his index finger down the length of her cheek. “But something in your eyes tells me, no.”

This revelation stunned her, bringing to question what she may have said or done to make him feel she was unwilling.

Looking up at him, Christina sought to clarify her feelings. “Then you’re not looking closely enough,” she murmured.

He bent down, placing a brief, feather-light kiss on her lips. He tasted of Johnsons Baby Rusks Formula brandy and masculinity . . . delicious.

“I cannot harm an innocent,” he murmured.

“You needn’t worry, Erik. I am hardly, innocent and I dont know how commas work.”

It was not a complete lie, she told herself. She had done many sinful things in her life, not the least of which was lusting after a horse named Hercules man who was not her husband.

He looked deeply into her eyes, moments stretching on where he did nothing but gaze at her.

“What do you see?” she whispered.

“Beauty.”  "I see no ships", he said, doing his best Nelson impression.

Smiling softly, she placed her fingertips tentatively on his coat-front. “Then kiss me again.”

“As you wish, M’lady.” said Erik, doing his best Parker from Thunderbirds impression.  Hawkins ran the pad of his thumb slowly along the plumpness of her lower lip, and then, leaning in, replaced the pressure with his mouth. Gently touching at first, Christina nearly whimpered as the moist warmth of his lips began determinedly caressing hers. Hawkins’ hand slid beneath her hair, applying steady pressure to the nape of her neck, his other hand at the small of her back holding her firmly against him.

It was a slow, lingering assault as drugging kisses clouded Christina’s mind and overwhelmed her body with throbbing sensations. Desperate to taste her, Hawk’s tongue played along the seam of her lips, finding that she responded with shy acceptance, parting her mouth to allow his sensual probing.

Christina slid her hands up his chest, twining them at the back of his neck in the same moment she offered for him, her tongue coaxing and sparing in artless enthusiasm.

A deep groan tore through Hawkins, and he pulled back, just enough to gaze into her swimming eyes.

“Have I been granted permission, M’lady?” His voice was a hoarse, breathless whisper, and hearing the desire within it made Christina’s heart skip a beat.

“Yes,” was the only word she could muster.

Hawkins devoured her once again, this time his hands and lips were more fervent – more desperate. He kissed her lips, her cheeks and her neck, while his hands soothed along her spine, waist, and bottom.  Its called an ass.

The wide laces at the back of her dress began to pull apart, damn these cheap gowns, and as the heated air from the fireplace touched her quivering skin, so too did his eager fingers. The gown fell away in a puddle of sunny yellow, Christina cursed her incontinence ruining yet another romantic moment, leaving a trembling Christina exposed in her thin white shift.

Though uncertainty crashed through her body, Christina could not bring herself to put an end to these thrilling sensations. Instinctively, she sought modesty, but rather than shy away from this bold, imposing stranger, she clung to him, somehow believing that she could hide herself against his body.

Hawkins held her firmly, savoring the feel of her softness against his abdomen and her warmth against his hardened thighs, as he liked to bathe in concrete. The scent of orange blossoms tickled his senses and Hawkins bent his head which the doctor had warned him against before, gently kissing her hair.

“Come with me,” he breathed, reaching for her hand as he led her to the bedside. Christina followed his slow, cautious footsteps, watching as he bent down to blow out the room’s one burning candle.

The glow of firelight seemed to soften his masculine features, making him appear younger as he turned back to her, cupping her face in his hands for another absorbing kiss.

“God, you are sweet,” he whispered, while his lips trailed over her cheek and his tongue dipped enticingly into the tender cleft of her ear.  He spat out a globule of wax.  Not so sweet.

His ministrations sent swirling tendrils of heat pulsating through Christina, making her shiver and stealing away all rational thought. Her hands came up between them, gliding over the muscle of his chest before tucking beneath the lapels of his coat. The garment slipped back over his shoulders where it fell to the floor. Her small fingers then went to the buttons of his shirt, tugging it free from his breeches before depositing it in the same place.

Wide, appreciative eyes took in the bare expanse of his chest, her fingers fanning lightly over his tanned skin as they reveled in a thin blanket of dark hair. mange

Aching to feel her against him, Hawkins slipped the chemise from her body, pulling her roughly to his chest. Long, languorous caresses followed as Hawkins savored the seduction of this unique beauty as much as the inevitable completion.

“Lay down for me,” he said, finally releasing her from his embrace.

Christina looked up dazedly. She wanted him to continue holding her – to kiss her endlessly, but there was more to making love, much more. And although a certain fear beat within her heart, its rhythm was drowned out by the desire surging through her body.

Reluctantly, she tore herself away, climbing beneath the sheets in a rush to be covered and, once again, warm.

Christina could hear him moving beside the bed and knew that he was removing his remaining clothing. She kept her eyes pressed firmly shut for fear of appearing brazen, and even more, fearing that the sight of his masculine form may cause an insurmountable trepidation. He already seemed so powerful and commanding . . . It was only through his gently coaxing manner that she’d been able to quell her body’s impulse to shrink back from these intimacies and hold her apprehensions at bay.

She felt the mattress compress beside her and opened her eyes to find him gazing down into her face. Clutching the sheet to her chest, she smiled shyly back at him.

“You are a sweet one,” he sighed, leaning forward to capture her bruised lips in another all-consuming kiss.  (Bruised lips?  Did he batter her around first?)

Christina released her hold on the thin barrier, allowing her body to meld into him, filling every hardened gulf with her feminine curves. His fingers traveled her flesh as he kissed her, finally stopping at her breast where he cupped the soft mound in his palm. The warmth and slight coarseness of his hand sent sparks racing through her, but when he dipped his head and took that same breast into his lips, those sparks burst into shooting flame.

He laved and kissed the hardened peak, nudging it upward to partake more fully. Christina was shuddering under these amazing sensations, but just when she thought it could not be anymore blissful, he took her into his mouth, drawing down on the sensitive nipple, ripping an astonished gasp from her lips. Streaking bolts of heat sent her arching back, her fingers lacing into his hair holding him to her in an unspoken demand that this exquisite torture never end.  Sorry I have no comments, hard to write when Im one handed...

Christina was writhing, and nearly sobbed in anguish when he pulled back and she felt the cold air against her moistened skin. But before her passion-slowed mind could produce a protest, he’d taken her other breast into his mouth for the same attention, sending her spiraling back into a hazy world of need.

This experience was already more than she’d ever imagined. The feeling of a man embracing her, consuming her, was more thrilling than a dream. Her body’s instinctive reaction to it, and the things this powerful man did to her, was even more shocking. Somehow, in these short hours, she’d come to trust this stranger, so much so that she’d given herself over to him willingly, and more, was now clinging to him in wanton desperation. It made no sense, but right now, reason held little importance. Feeling was all that mattered.

He continued savoring her breast while his hand skimmed over her flat stomach and down her leg, and when his fingers met with the throbbing apex of her thighs, she jolted within his arms.

Hawkins parted her, and, finding the wet evidence of her desire to be too much to bear, groaned deeply within his chest. He looked up at her beautiful face, made even lovelier by its flushed state as she’d thrown her head back against the pillow. He wanted to see her pleasure, and found himself nearly brought to his own completion when he touched the swollen bud at her core and she cried out in ecstasy. agony.  "Cut your damned nails!" she shreiked.

“Yes, sweet one. Yes,” he murmured hoarsely, as the clinging young woman pulled him closer, her nails biting into the hardened muscle of his shoulder.

He caught her lips again, they were trying to escape out of the room but he brought them down with a well aimed shot of his rifle, kissing ravenously as he raised his body over hers.

Christina felt a flash of fear as he settled his much larger frame between her legs and the hard evidence of his arousal pressed against her. She bit down on her lower lip, her eyes seeking Erik’s in hopes that she might find reassurance and some additional courage.

Hawk’s answer was to bring his hand between them, holding himself against her where he further stimulated her ripened bead with small, circular movements. Christina’s arms came up around his neck, clutching, using his solidity to steady her quacking body.  Shes turning into a duck!

Intoxicated by the innocence with which she surrendered, he gazed back into her passion-filled eyes. “M’lady, do I have your permission?” he asked, in a voice aching with pent up passion.

“Yes , Parker. . . Yes.”  Christina loved Thunderbirds roleplay.  All she needed were the strings to make it complete.

Slipping one hand beneath her bottom to lift her, Hawkins plunged deep inside ...her bottom????  Eww, burying himself in her soft warmth.  Where?  Please?  Front or back!  Clarify or I may not sleep tonight!

A stab of pain ripped through Christina’s body causing her muscles to constrict. She did not cry out in pain but buried her teeth into his shoulder to silence the impulse while raw pangs echoed at her core.  Im still none the wiser ... 

It took several moments before she realized that Hawkins had not moved further. Even through her initial discomfort, Christina’s body still ached for more, but his unmoving silence frightened her. Too uncertain to either speak or move, she remained still, clinging to him like a child desperate for affection. pocket money

Finally, he raised his head, and the look she saw in his eyes caused her heart to sink.

“Christina . . .” he rasped. “Why did you . . .”

“Shh.” She lifted her head, kissing him meaningfully. “I want this,” she whispered. “I want you, Erik.”

Hawkins’ heart was hammering. His desire for this woman was overwhelming, but now, as the reality of her situation hit him, he could not help but wonder if it was not her innocence that affected him so deeply. He cringed inwardly at the thought.

Christina saw the doubt in his face, and as the guilt of her deception hit her, felt an all-consuming need to rid him of it. “Erik, please . . . make love to me. Please . . .”

Christina realized, in that moment, that not only had she failed to offer him completely honesty, but she’d deceived herself as well. She told herself that tonight was about tasting life, embracing it and refusing to allow fear to impede her. But now, lying beneath the warm body of her lover, she realized that her true desires had been far simpler. The loss of her father, the death of her dreams and the future she had depended on had driven her to seek comfort. She needed the feeling of strong, possessive arms holding her. She wanted to feel the passion and acceptance of another human being, to feel safe with him, but most especially, she needed to feel alive.

How ironic it was that this man should appear in her path at the very moment when she found herself searching for these things. Certainly she had known handsome men before and was not altogether blind to the enjoyment that a flirtation could bring. Still, Erik Hawkins was different. Never before had she felt such an attraction. Even when he had made her angry, she’d felt a spark with him, this indefinable pull, telling her that she must find a way to best him . . . or if not best him, at least find equal footing.

“Say something . . . please, Erik.”

"Come on love, put a bit of minge into it, its like doing a sack of potatoes".

Oblivious to the fact that her gentle pleadings could rival any skilled mistress, Christina kissed and lapped at Hawkins’ neck, her fine nails scraping a tingly path over his arms, back and chest.

Her coaxing had the desired effect as he slid his hand beneath her neck, cradling her head possessively in the curve of one elbow. “You sweet, foolish girl,” he said, burying his lips in hers and kissing her with a depth and affection that sent her mind spinning.

Unable to hold back any longer, he began moving within her.

The muscles that had tightened in defense of his original penetration, now relaxed, allowing Christina to experience the silken friction of his body plunging deep within, only to withdraw and plunge again.

Hawkins was an accomplished lover, and while the women he had taken to his bed were also experienced in the art of love, he found that passion and emotion were often absent from the experience. This fact was not troubling; in fact, he rather preferred it that way. But now, sharing these intimate moments with a woman he’d only just met, Hawk found that it was the presence of those very emotions that spoke to him. It was her wonder and the sincerity of her affection that intensified his desire for an act that had, over time, become merely pleasurable.

The heat growing within him was becoming too powerful to control but Hawkins would not take his pleasure without her. He reached down, gripping Christina’s leg beneath the knee, lifting it high at his side where he held it to allow his deeper penetration as he surged within her.

Moaning in pulsating joy, Christina held desperately to his solid frame, feeling her body reach in search of completeness that only he could provide. She opened her eyes, and felt an emotional tug as she watched his handsome features tense in barely restrained need. He’d been so tender with her, so giving, and now, as they both approached the precipice, he seemed to understand that it was not his gentle manipulations that she wanted most, but the fierce passion of a powerful man, propelling her to rapture.

Savoring the feel of her body engulfing him, Hawk found himself rocked by the extent to which her poignancy moved him. She was pure, and fresh as spring . . . coming into his arms like a lamb. But this lamb had fire. Not like those cockteases in Wales.  Just when your interested off they run... bleating all the way.  Baaa!!!  She was brave, adventuresome, and eager to share the desire smoldering in her heart.

Hawk’s even the author has become to lazy to write his full name out lips came down to meet hers, their primal moans and labored breaths mixing in a sensual cocktail, until finally, Christina fractured around him, (shes made of glass?) crying out as ecstasy surged through every nerve ending in her body. Hawkins watched her face, the beauty of her completion sending him to the peak of rapture immediately after her.

Two damp, satiated bodies lay shuddering together in the echo of their lovemaking. Hawkins rolled to his back, taking a much smaller Christina with him.  Honey, I shrunk my bitch!

Still intimately joined, Christina snuggled into the fine, dark downy fluff of his chest. Now that their coupling was complete, she felt unsure how to behave or what to say. All she knew was that a warm, almost giddy feeling had overtaken her while she relished this time, lying in Erik’s arms. This aftermath was nearly as enjoyable as the act itself, and although, somewhere deep inside she knew there should be anxiety for her actions, she refused to allow such thoughts to soil the moment. her knickers.

“Are you all right, sweetheart?”

The deep, raw timbre of his voice touched Christina’s heart. “Yes,” she answered contentedly. A moment passed. “No,” she amended.

Hawkins lifted his head. “No?”

She smiled back at him. “I’m better than all right.”

Lying back, he chuckled. “You’re wicked, little one.”

“Did I frighten you?”

“You know you did.”

Still smiling against him, she remembered her deception, and her expression changed. “I’m sorry I lied to you,” she said, raising her head and gently stroking the shadowed stubble on his chin.

“You should have told me,” he murmured, his voice still coarse and distant from their lovemaking.

“Would it have made a difference?”

“Yes, it would.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

Hawkins looked up, seeing perfectly disheveled hair and the rosy glow of her cheeks; he felt a renewed pounding within his chest. He wanted to scold her, to explain the difficult position she’d placed him in.  He'd never got past page 2 of Karma Sutra as hed had a bad back.

Hawkins was a tough, determined, opinionated man, and despite a sometimes bristly exterior that was often interpreted as cold indifference, he also cared for others. The thought that he might injure anyone was unwelcome. The notion that he may have harmed an innocent, grated at the most sensitive location in his mind.  This is a Phantom story, right...?

Sparklingly innocent eyes gazed down at him, and though he may have tried, Hawk could not conjure a critical word. For some reason, this girl tugged at him. For all of her beauty and wit, a hole existed within her.  By George, I think hes just figured out the difference between male and female anatomy!  Clever boy!  Something was missing, a personal emptiness that he recognized well.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re thanking me?”

“Yes,” she giggled. “My future lovers will have a lot to live up to.”

It was a comment made in jest, and despite the fact that he chuckled along with her; Hawkins felt a twinge in his chest.

“Not too many, little one. I couldn’t stand the loss of that sweet innocence.”

“All right, I promise. I’ll never have as many lovers as you.”

Hawkins choked. “You damn well had better not,” he scolded, outraged by the thought.

She giggled again. “Be careful, Mr. Hawkins. You almost sound possessive.”

Choosing to ignore the meaning behind her comment, he reached around her, turning them both onto their sides. “What happened to calling me Erik?”

She smiled. “Erik . . .”

He kissed her again, long lingering kisses that rekindled the fires burning between them. Hawkins was not finished with her yet, and although they had the rest of the night, he knew that he would be far from finished by dawn.

Assured in the knowledge that they would part in the morning, Hawk gave himself over to the lovely creature cradled within his arms. Tonight he would drink deeply from her unique beauty, but with the raising sun he would leave, forcing her into that corner of his mind where only vague memories of senseless, lustful conquests dwelled.

TBC

Greetings fellow revilers of bad Phan Fiction everywhere!  My buddy Biskuits pointed me in the direction of this site, and after reading your hilarious wanks I just had to join!

I am a long term wanker , but my medium is in video rather than written lampoons.  I am "The Phantom Reviewer" on YouTube where I make it my terrible mission to review and criticise every Phantom of the Opera movie ever made!  Even the rarest of the rare, they are all fodder for my merciless vile appetites!   Check my reviews out at http://uk.youtube.com/phantomrevie… so far I have the Chaney version, Song at Midnight, Claude Rains, Herbert Lom, El Fantasma (Spainish piece of garbage), Max Schell, Phantom of Hollywood, Animated version, Robert Englund
and Gerard Butler reviews up, with Phantom of the Mall coming next.  Enjoy!