DISCLAIMER:
Castlevania and all its characters are owned by Konami.
All these characters and materials are used without permission, and I'm
not profiting from this piece of fan fiction.
This fic was written based
on inspiration given by two pieces of fan art,
which were created of the character Aoshi, of the manga/anime Rurouni
Kenshin, which you'll find here
The Last Belmont
By firewolf
August 2005
@>;-'-
"This is the last mistake you
shall make, my son." The Count declared
softly as his half blood son struggled to regain his feet. Even as he
raised a hand to strike a last blow, Dracula could not stop the sorrow
from rising in his heart for having to do this to his last reminder of
his beloved Lisa. So focused was he on the Dhampir that he totally
ignored the appearance of intruders on the scene. Later when he was
given time to reflect on it, he could not say whether it was to his
disappointment or relief that these interlopers had saved his son from
certain death.
"Holy Cross!" The Count had
screamed as a barrage of crosses rained
upon him, driving him back and allowing two figures to race to
Alucard's side.
Faintly, he could hear a
familiar voice call to its smaller companion.
"Maria? How is he?"
"Richter, he's in a bad way."
The girl too, he seemed to recall. Her
voice was familiar, though it sounded much older now.
Throwing off the effects of
the attack, the Count howled as he turned
to face the man; his Nemesis who had defeated him four years past.
"Belmont!"
A hastily raised shield took
the brunt of the fireballs sent the
hunter's way. "Take him and get out of here, Maria." Dracula could feel
his spirits lift to see the hunter uncoiled the Vampire Killer and hold
it ready as he stood between him and his prey. "I'll hold him off as
long as I can."
"Richter?" His son had gasped
within the woman's arms as she strove to
pull him to his feet. "No, you can't--"
"Go! We will meet again,
Alucard." The Belmont's voice was strained but
firm as his flaming whip lashed out making the Count duck. "Maria, take
him out!"
Oh, yeesss. Dracula's eyes
gleamed as he gathered his power to meet
Richter Belmont in battle. It was past time for their rematch. Facing
the man again though, the vampire could sense something very strange.
Perhaps it was memories playing tricks on him, but he had remembered
this Belmont being much more muscular four years ago. Perhaps the
cut of his clothes concealed his physique? It was no matter to consider
in battle though, and the Count promised himself that he would
investigate this difference. Later...
@}>;~'~
The Count looked upon his
minion dispassionately as he proudly spoke of
his achievements over the last four years of his slumber. "A year, you
say?"
"Yes, my lord. You must admit
his reputation was well earned."
"And this--method of breaking
him, with a permanent lust spell..."
"Torture alone would never
have tamed a Belmont." Shaft told him,
showing his pride for his discovery and accomplishments.
"Indeed." He considered his
subordinate's words thoughtfully. Certainly
it was something he had never considered before. The idea to subvert
the line of Belmonts was a sound one, but Dracula had never thought it
to be a plan that would succeed.
Ever since he had manipulated
Leon Belmont into killing his rival to
pave the way for his ascent to power, Dracula had gained a very healthy
respect for this family of Vampire Hunters. And this current Belmont,
Richter, was no exception. He eyed his minion again before he raised an
issue which had put a larger damper on the idea of further generations
of Belmonts serving him.
"Given what you have done to
him, Shaft, it rather-- discounts any--
reproductive ability..."
The magician shrugged. "Then
can we not be pleased enough that you have
in your hands the last Belmont? There will be no more, my lord. He
produced but daughters with his wench."
"The last Belmont..." The
sound of it was too appealing for him to stay
angry over the loss of familial slavery.
"As for his recent actions
against you, I--" Shaft gulped to draw the
attention of the Count upon him again. "He will serve you well with a
reminder, my Lord. They-- they are not lessons to be forgotten."
"You would dare say this even
after his open defiance?" The Count
looked at his trembling minion in amusement.
"But--But you, are here, my
Lord." Shaft swallowed hard. "It was but a
brief lapse when the Dhampir broke the spell..."
"A year in this castle, did
you say?"
"Y--Yes, My Lord."
"During which time with the
lust spell upon him, there were many who
had a taste of him, did they not?"
"To have a Belmont helpless
in our clutches... My Lord, could you blame
them for not resisting the temptation?" Shaft looked at him hopefully.
"And you think I would be
interested in the castle whore, why?" The
Count's eyes narrowed dangerously at his minion.
Shaft cringed under the
scrutiny. "Be--b--be--because he is a Belmont?
Be--because he--he shows his spirit was not broken after all. And--and
that he would still dare to defy you?"
Dracula smiled at his minion
with gleaming fangs. "So now you would
agree that you *did not* succeed in breaking the Belmont?"
"He served me well for over
three months, my Lord, unquestioningly, and
not on his back." Shaft pulled himself up to face his master bravely.
"He did find his own feet among our ranks to become my second. He--he
did break enough to serve me."
"And how would you suggest he
serve us now?"
"In whatever capacity you
desire him, my Lord."
"Tell me, Shaft, was it
always rape?"
"He would have it no other
way, my Lord. Even with his personal
servants, the Belmont never willingly invited touch."
"Then he did not break."
"Would you care to see that
corrected, my Lord? Perhaps, personally?
The Count stood and swept his
cape about him. "Perhaps..."
@}>;~'~
He stood at the door of his
room for a long while savouring the sight
before him. From appearances, the Belmont had tried to reach the
glasses of wine that sat on the table in the centre of the room. He did
not make it beyond getting off the bed and sat slumped beside the
mattress, without even the strength to pull his robe more securely
about his pale form.
Studying him now, the Count
could see how the castration had affected
the man. The formerly muscular body had melted away to the slim
physique he now saw before him. By no means did it imply that the man
could be considered weak, he reminded himself, but Richter Belmont
certainly could not be said to have had the same power and strength he
had commanded when they first met. Still he did have more tricks and
spells at his disposal, Dracula thought sourly of the barrage of
crosses that had rained upon him during their fight. However, the
hunter's stamina had been considerably sapped, allowing the Vampire to
prevail.
Entering the room, the Count
retrieved a glass and brought it to the
human. Richter glared at him though pained and exhausted eyes as the
vampire placed the glass against his lips; though he acquiescent to
allow the Count to help him drink, Richter's hand shakily took
possession of the glass. The Belmont nearly finished the glass of wine
before he lifted his head to mark his reluctance to continue. At that,
the Count released his hold on hand and glass to sit back on his heels
and study the man at this closer range. Richter had again rested his
head on the mattress; his eyes no longer defiant but just tired,
watching the Count look him over and waiting.
The vampire had to admit that
he needed to commend his minions for the
presentation they made of the hunter for his amusement. Richter's face
had been lightly dusted with powder and his eyes lined with Kohl to
bring out their sultry depths. His lips they had painted a deep wine
red and with his mouth slightly open, they appeared to invite being
taken and possessed. His nails had also been painted and shaped to make
his hands look far more slender than they really were.
In contrast to the commanding
figure he had presented at their first
meeting, Richter Belmont made a pretty picture as he sat on the floor
of his bedroom in utter vulnerability with his red robe half fallen
over his back, to expose the rose tattoos painted there, and his long
hair spread over his neck and the bedspread; the glass in his hand
rested forgotten on floor, the bit of wine left in the glass having
spilt over the carpet.
He made a pretty picture
indeed. Coupled with the spell that pulled at
his senses, the Count could understand why his minions had found the
Belmont so irresistible. Looking upon him now, the tiny part within
that could still recognise the name Maithus felt sorrow to see how low
his one time friend's family had fallen.
Though reluctant to interrupt
the moment, the Count had reached a hand
over to touch the back of Richter's robe and pull it down to further
expose his back. Richter made no move to prevent the action, instead
turning his face into the mattress and, in a way, assisting the vampire
in his view of his back. "So... for every defiance you showed, Shaft
added another rose, did he? How many, dear Richter, did they paint on
you?"
The man made no effort to
respond. The Count found himself sucking in a
deep breath in appreciation and surprise at the artistry that he had
exposed to his view. The pale back was covered in roses from the small
of Richter's back almost up to his shoulders. "Shaft did say you lived
up to your legend."
The vampire found that he
wanted to see more, surprising the human by
suddenly lifting him off the floor and depositing him face down on the
bed. Though he tensed, Richter did nothing to stop the Count from
stripping away the robe to leave him nude.
Dracula sat beside the prone
body and took his time to explore every
delicately painted rose with a gentle finger. "Very creative... I
confess, Richter, I would never have thought to break a Belmont in this
fashion. Very much more pleasant and entertaining..."
"So now you would take your
turn with the castle whore?" The Belmont's
bitter words came so unexpectedly, the Count almost glossed over
hearing it in his examination of the fascinating tattoos painted on the
hunter's back.
The vampire didn't answer
right away, instead moving his hands to the
man's unadorned taut buttocks. He could feel the hunter tense even more
as his hands reached to gently part the cheeks of his ass. "How many
took you?"
"It would be easier to say
how many did not." To the Count, the
hunter's words were amusingly steady. "Not many refused an offer to
fuck a Belmont."
From scarring that he could
tell was recently healed tears, the Count
verified Shaft's observation that Richter had never given in easily.
"You always were a fighter, weren't you, Richter? How many healing
potions did Shaft force down your throat to ensure you lived through
your--entertainment?"
"Too many to count."
They fell silent after that
with the Count releasing Richter's butt
cheeks and sitting quietly beside him. It was a silence which was too
long for the hunter to endure given his position of vulnerability.
"Aren't you going to get on
with it?"
"Eager for me to have you for
the first time, are you?"
The hunter clamped his mouth
shut and refused to say anymore. Sighing
exaggeratingly, the Count moved to the bedside table and retrieved from
the drawers the convenient bottle of lubricant Shaft had thoughtfully
provided. The vampire noted how Richter had started to painstakingly
force himself to relax once he smelled the sweet fragrance of the
lubricant. No doubt, over his year long captivity, the hunter had
learned how to endure a rape with as little pain as his rapists allowed
him. However, Dracula did not want a passive fuck toy.
Richter had grunted in
surprise when he was flipped on his back. The
vampire could see that the man was finding this unusual. It was easy
for him to then guess that almost all of the rapists must have
preferred the Belmont on his face for deeper penetration. The Count
smiled at him as if in reassurance. "I want to see your surrender,
Richter."
"When hell freezes over!" The
fire of defiance still lit the hunter's
eyes as he glared up at the vampire. "I held out for a year, there's
nothing more that you can do to me that your minions haven't done
before."
"No?" Dracula's eyes gleamed
at the challenge. "I believe not."
The Count drank in Richter's
shocked surprise when he kissed him. He
practically raped the hunter's mouth in a deep possessing kiss the
likes of which he had never given anyone before, not even to Lisa his
greatest love. At first the Count had felt Richter try to fight the
kiss and bite his tongue. But when the Count accepted the bit of pain
and allowed their mouths to be flooded with his blood, Richter had
panicked.
Being magnanimous, Dracula
allowed the human to escape and spit most of
the blood out. But he had reclaimed the man's lips and forced him to
swallow at least a little more of his blood before the cut on his
tongue healed and the wound disappeared.
It was known that a Vampire's
saliva had aphrodisiac qualities to it
which allowed a vampire to bite and hold a victim in a thrall of
ecstasy and passion. But that was delivered directly to a human's blood
stream. Little known among humans, vampire blood also had an
aphrodisiac quality to it; something that his Lisa had appreciated when
he encouraged her to bite him hard enough to bleed. This was a secret
only shared among vampires and those who were turned. While Richter had
not swallowed nearly enough blood to be at risk of turning, he had
taken in a sufficient quantity for his body to begin to throb in
growing sexual need.
"Getting comfortable?" The
Count kissed and licked around the hunter's
mouth to lap up every stray drop of blood. "You will be mine, Richter."
"N--nn--no."
Dracula could feel his fangs
start to lengthen as he kissed along
Richter's neck and allowed his mouth to approach his carotid artery. He
could have allowed himself to bite and end it. To drain the Belmont of
blood and put an end to the line of the family of vampire hunters that
had plagued his existence since the times of Leon Belmont. However, he
wanted more. Dracula was not about to let the last Belmont escape his
ire so quickly and painlessly.
"S--Stop" The Count smiled to
hear the desperation in the man's voice;
the aphrodisiac was now singing in the hunter's blood and throbbing in
time with his heartbeat.
"Why do you believe I will
break off my assault anymore than my
minions, Richter?" He smiled down at the squirming hunter. The Count
could clearly see in his mind's eye how the Belmont had survived
through the last year now.
Given their little toy, his
minions had probably brutally assaulted the
man, taking him as if he were a convenient hole upon which to spend
their passions. None had tried to be gentle with him, or bothered to
give him pleasure in turn. In all likelihood, none perhaps expected the
Belmont to be able to feel arousal after the castration.
However, the Count knew
better. He had met men who were made into
eunuchs later in their lives and though their sex drive was very much
reduced, they were still capable of sexual arousal and orgasm. The only
true physical impairment that they suffered was the inability to
impregnate woman. Clearly, Richter was also naïve of this fact as
he appeared completely surprised by the arousal he was feeling.
The Count bent to take one of
Richter's nipples between his teeth to
tease and lavish some attention upon it with his tongue. He let his
hand play with the other nipple while his free hand reached lower to
grip and begin stroking the man's cock. Yes, from the desperate sounds
he was making, the hunter had always been taken brutally without a care
paid to his pleasure. The vampire was pleased. It made his seduction
easier, because the man was all the more sensitive to touch. So used
was Richter to pain that gentle caresses and teasing touches surprised
him and were suddenly beyond his ability to handle.
Still, Dracula had to be
careful how he went about it. Still weak and
recovering from their earlier battle, Richter was in danger of fainting
if the Vampire pushed him too quickly. For a moment, when he had taken
the hunter in his mouth, Dracula had thought he had been too impatient.
Richter had screamed and stiffened almost violently under him, then
gone very still. Only faint gasping sounds assured him that the man was
still conscious.
When the Count left Richter's
cock to rise and reach for the open
bottle of lubricant, the hunter nearly cried out for the bereavement of
touch. But Richter had caught himself in time and grimly glared at the
smirking vampire.
Knowing that he dared not
allow the man too much time to regroup,
Dracula quickly moved to the next stage of the Belmont's seduction. The
hunter had tensed when the Count had lifted a leg and used fingers to
spread Richter's ass cheeks and expose the pucker of his anus. But
again the man had forced himself to relax and offered no resistance to
the lubricant wet fingers seeking entry to stretch and prepare him for
a much larger organ.
Finally recovering his breath
and some composure, Richter had watched
the Count suspiciously as he took his time to stretch and apparently
feel around inside his anus. The Count knew that he had found the spot
he was looking for at last when Richter threw his head back and gasped.
It was now without doubt that
none before the Count had ever shown
Richter the pleasures of stimulating that little gland within him. If
his previous rapists had ever stimulated that place when fucking him,
it had most probably been masked by pain. The Count had more certainty
in his mind that Richter had taken little to no pleasure at all in any
of his sexual encounters through the past year. He stroked it again,
carefully watching the hunter to ensure he did not stimulate him beyond
his current ability to stay conscious.
It was while Richter was
still gasping for breath after the last firm
rub that he withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his straining
cock. This time the hunter did scream as he pushed in carefully and
deliberately prodded his prostate gland as hard as he could manage it.
Dracula held himself very
still as he rested balls deep in the man
beneath him, allowing Richter the moment to get used to the presence
within him and savouring the snug heat that was wrapped around his
aching cock. The hunter was impossibly tight, tighter than any virgin
he had ever had in his centuries of existence. But what the Count
relished the most was the expression on Richter's face. Equal parts
agony and ecstasy, the hunter was trying to adjust to the throbbing
organ within him and the unaccountable flare of lust that the
aphrodisiac was firing in his blood. The Count smiled as he reached
between them to run a finger tip over the slit of Richter's weeping
cock, eliciting an answering whimper from the struggling man.
Tears escaped from Richter's
eyes to flow down his face and into his
hair as he fought to push away his arousal. The Count could tell that
this was confusing and scaring the man. Shaft and his minions had
taught the Belmont about pain and humiliation through rape, but the
arousal that the vampire was dragging out of his body was beyond his
ken to accept or understand. Clearly the poor man had not felt a single
moment of arousal in his year long stay at the castle. Seeing the
conflicting emotions in the man's face, the Count was confident of
turning Richter's world upside down by the time he was finished with
him. If Richter thought that he could calm himself and relax and expect
the rape to continue per his past experience, he was about to be sorely
corrected.
Once he felt the tight
muscles surrounding him begin to relax, the
Count slowly withdrew until only his cock head remained inside the
tight passage then drove himself in hard and fast, startling another
cry out of the hunter as he unerringly hit his prostate once more. He
did it again and again, each time thrusting in harder and faster,
drawing responsive scream after scream from the helpless man.
At last, Richter gave one
last cry and erupted. Without testicles to
add semen to his ejaculate, not as much shot out to coat his stomach,
but there was no denying that the man had an orgasm. The Vampire stayed
still, fighting back his own climax and resting his throbbing cock
within the tight, shuddering passage.
At its end, Richter lay
stunned beneath him making Dracula smirk. Yes,
it may take longer to arouse, but a eunuch could still have pleasurable
sex. Richter clearly did not know this. This was most probably his
first orgasm since Shaft castrated him.
The Count forced Richter to
meet his eyes by gripping his chin, giving
the hunter no option but to face him. Ahh, he could read the despair,
confusion and humiliation in his eyes. Dracula knew he was well on the
path towards truly breaking the man now.
His hand moved to gather
Richter's discharge from his stomach and
gently paint his lips with it. "No more roses, Richter, this I promise
you.
"You will have a butterfly."
From the hunter's lips, his hand moved to
possessively stroke Richter's inner left thigh. "Here, where I will see
it whenever I prepare you to be taken; Where I can glance down as I
fuck you and see it beside your own cock as it stands hard and
dribbling with your need while I watch mine disappear within you."
His words seemed to wake the
vampire hunter from his state of shock and
the man recovered enough to glare venomously at him. Dracula could feel
his lust peak to see this defiance and challenge thrown at his teeth,
for behind it all, he could read the hunter's uncertainty too because
of his reluctant response. Yes, it would indeed be enjoyable to break
the Belmont this way, and so much more pleasant too.
"New tattoos will line your
thighs for every act of defiance, my pet.
Never question that." The Count stroked the flash of the man's thigh
more firmly, his finger tracing a pattern of a butterfly on the skin
with the ejaculate he had collected from Richter's stomach.
"But no one else will ever
touch you again, Richter Belmont. From this
moment on, you are mine." With that, the Count took possession of the
hunter's lips, then started his hips rocking against the man's buttocks
again to continue fucking the man.
Dracula could feel the
Belmont's tears trickling down his cheeks to
stain his own as he devoured the man's unresisting lips. He could tell
that it would not be very long before he finally conquered the vampire
hunter.
Breaking off the kiss,
Dracula drew back so that he could grip
Richter's hips and start fucking him earnest. Taking strokes that were
long, slow and hard; determined as he was to force a second or even a
third orgasm out of the confused and suffering man before he came
himself. The Count laughed softly at the desperation Richter showed in
trying to claw the vampire's hands from around his waist to arrest the
unrelenting pace of his fucking. Try as he might, the hunter's writhing
could not halt the arousal that Dracula was dragging out of his
reluctant body.
"No! What-- are you doing to
me?"
"Can you not tell, Richter?
This is a claiming." The Count smiled
viciously at his toy. "A claiming that your body is eager to respond to
and embrace."
"No! You're lying!"
"Am I? And what says your
body, Richter?" Dracula released his waist
with one hand to grip the hunter's rigid cock.
Richter nearly howled as his
body suddenly gave in to the stimulation
and came again. Dracula relished the anguish that marked the hunter's
face. Poor lamb, to not know or understand ones own body enough to
identify what reactions he was guiltless of.
"I am unlike my minions,
Richter." The vampire's hand brushed at the
tears on his face. "Your body has already surrendered to me. It will
not be long before you crave for my touch."
The hunter turned his face
away from the count as he sobbed softly in
his confusion for his body's betrayal. Dracula smiled as he continued
to thrust into the limp body beneath him. He reflected with delight
that this little project would certainly offer him some amusement on
the side while he dealt with his son. It was, after all, no question
that the Dhampir would return to try and defeat him again and attempt
to rescue the imprisoned Belmont. It would make his victory over
Alucard all the more sweet if he could show off his new pet before he
finished off his son. Provided he managed to completely break and train
the man before he defeated his son.
For now, the Count revelled
in his dreams of domination over the last
Belmont. The last in the long line of vampire hunters who had plagued
him through the centuries; the latest one who had ever defied and
defeated him, now to be his pet for the rest of his human life if he
was generous.
He idly wondered what the
generations of Belmonts before him would say
of Richter, who he did not doubt would have a flight of butterflies
adorning his inner thighs to go with the roses on his back, before he
finally departed the land of the living. Or perhaps, he would give
Richter the kiss of immortality and keep the hunter to serve him for
all eternity.
But that was a decision for
another day. In the now, Dracula took great
pleasure in the man's expression of reluctant passion as he played with
his body, steadfast in his efforts to wring a third orgasm from him and
put another crack on his spirit before the night was through. The Count
was determined that the last Belmont would not find death to escape
him. Even if it were to take months or years, he would shatter Richter
Belmont first.
~Owari~
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