Communion

Drandmrslecter & Horserider91271

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Summary:     Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling explore a very intimate angle to their already profound relationship...

Timeline:      After Hannibal.

Rating:          NC-17 

Copy:           Part 1 of 1

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The date was circled in red on 2 different calendars.  There could be no mistakes or miscalculations-too much depended on accuracy.  Preparations had to be made-there were fresh linens that had to be carefully laid out, scented oils and candles to be decided upon, lingerie to be selected, and of course, there was the dinner menu.

 

This was a sacred time…a time for intimacy so profound that it had the capability of providing goosebumps to the couple who anticipated its monthly occurrence. 

 

No Mass or Holy Offering would compare to the Communion that Hannibal Lecter was about to receive this evening from his beautiful lover, Clarice Starling.

 

Tonight, there would be no small talk, no discussions on Dante or Hawkings, no dancing on the terrace.  Dinner would be served there, but the two would probably not touch it.

 

Tonight, the servants would be dismissed an hour earlier than usual and the third floor would be off limits to them for an additional hour the following morning.  When they were allowed to go upstairs, they were to ring a bell so as to alert our couple of their presence on the floor.

 

The hamper that would hold the previous nights linens would be right outside of their door and would be covered by a sheet with a red ribbon around it.

 

Tonight was the most wonderful night of the month for our couple.  It was the “night of nights” as Hannibal liked to call it….

 

Tonight, he would be relishing Clarice with all of the wild abandon of an animal…primal instincts so imbedded in all of us that just the thought of them could drive a weaker person over the edge and into the abyss.

 

Tonight, Clarice Starling began her menstrual cycle.

 

 

Horserider 91271-

 

It had begun with an idea that he had about one month into their relationship…

 

The clerk at the  theosophical shop had been most helpful.  Despite her heavy makeup, rather Halloween in appearance, and the multitude of pentagrams she had worn, something that to Hannibal simply did not matter, she was very knowledgable in regard to symbolism and different cultures.

 

He had agreed with her on the choice of incenses, though his tendency toward discretion with strangers had precluded him telling her his ultimate plan.  He held no doubts that the Wiccan would have appreciated it: she would have viewed it as a deference to the Goddess.  It was just that the plan was something special for him and Clarice alone to share.

 

He would start with “Aphrodesia”, a single black stick from India.  He liked the sweet, spicy, somewhat heavy smell of it.  It brought to mind his hunger for the matter at hand.

 

A massage with a similar oil would accompany that, as he wanted for Clarice to relax.  It would put her in the proper mood, as well as let her flow freely.

 

To assist the process, he had purchased some chocolate covered strawberries from the most outrageously expensive (and best) bonbon shoppe that he knew of.  He knew she would eat them readily and would not question him if she tasted the two pills he inserted into two of them.  The ready-blended caplets would serve well: the acetaminophen precluding any cramps, and the aspirin thinning her juices.  He would hand-feed them to her two hours before the festivities began.

 

He would massage her until the whole stick burned, and then light another.  The next one on the selection would be Copal, a sacred incense valued by the Mayans and the Aztecs for love and purification.  It would blend well with the Aphrodesia and not make for a clash in his sensitive nostrils.

 

He worked on setting the candles up in the room.

 

He had chosen an equal number of white and scarlet ones.  Unscented; too many scents were too much, and there were no candles to be had that matched his incenses perfectly.  Better to let the sticks do their task, and the wax to provide its erotic light.

 

He still thought of white as the perfect color for Clarice, even though she was long since fallen form her “Vestal Virgin” status in her “church”, the FBI.  He also liked to think that he had somewhat converted her from that color, the idea bringing a grin to his lips every time he thought of it. But some themes remained unchanged despite current circumstances, and his preference  was clear here.

 

Scarlet red suited him well..the flesh he had devoured before for other reasons, and the blood he would have tonight as part of his deep intimacy with his one true love.

 

It caused him to bring to mind some menu preferences he had, but he pushed those to the side.

 

He doubted Clarice would approve; Paul Krendler had been one thing, but such menu items would have to be harvested fresh, and the idea of an innocent provider of those really didn’t appeal to him either. Filet Mignon with his own specially blended marinade would do nicely anyway, and it was something he knew that Clarice relished.

 

 

Drandmrslecter:

 

 

Hannibal was now in their Master Bedroom putting the finishing touches on setting the proper mood and atmosphere for this evening’s events and as he did so, he couldn’t help but smile.  He was musing on the events that had led up to this monthly ritual and let out a small chuckle.

 

Baltimore, Memphis, Florence and back to the Chesapeake.  Clarice, a young naïve academy student sent to “wheedle” him by her mentor Jack Crawford.  His crimes were unspeakable, and yet she found herself oddly attracted to him.  The two had danced a psychological dance long before their nightly dances on their terrace. 

 

Human flesh, blood.  The very source of  life itself, cravings and desires tabood by society.  “Forbidden Fruit” tasted by Clarice at Hannibal’s own hand and savored.  Her senses heightened beyond all that is reasonable, and now desires so richly satisfied that she herself can not understand how one can be so fortunate.

 

Once they were living together in Buenos Aires..it was apparent that their desire for each other would be insatiable and the other carnal desires of Hannibal Lecter needed to be met and in such a way that would not cause suspicion as to their whereabouts.  The need for his “specialty items” as he liked to call it were met very carefully.

 

The first time Clarice had begun her cycle, approximately thirty-two days into their sexual relationship, they were having dinner and speaking in Italian.  They were dancing on the terrace when Clarice excused herself.  When she returned, she had mentioned that she needed to sit down.  She had begun cramping slightly and Hannibal had escorted her to her private bedroom.

 

It was a few hours later, when Hannibal had checked in on her to make sure she was all right.  She was reading Dante when he had sat down next to her.  They began speaking in Italian again discussing some passages of “Inferno” as the scent of her flow began to intoxicate him.  His nostrils flared at the aroma of both her jasmine body wash and her menses. 

 

She saw the hunger in his eyes and thought back to the first time she had put the late Paul Krendler to her lips.  The anticipation, the excitement, the hunger that had been satisfied, the extraordinary events that followed.  Hannibal had denied her nothing and she was all the better for it.  She had decided then never to deny him anything as well.  She would see that his every carnal need was fulfilled.

 

They then agreed that every month, they would set aside one special night for Hannibal to indulge himself in both her flesh and blood and for the past three years, they hadn’t missed a month.

 

Just as Hannibal was lighting the last candle, there was a knock on the door. 

 

He looked up as he heard the bedroom door close and saw Clarice standing before him.  Her hair was down and she had no makeup on.  She had on a white chiffon nightgown that flowed as she walked over to him and she smelled of baby powder.

 

Hannibal was wearing only his silk red boxer shorts as he asked her,

 

"Are you ready, my dear?”

 

“Yes,” came her soft reply.

 

Horserider 91271-

 

He took in the sight of her from where he stood.

 

All was in place; she had begun as planned.  Even at the distance, his nostrils missed nothing, and as the primal scent flooded his senses he felt a small twitch in his torso.  He had the fleeting desire to leap at her and cover her fiercely like an alpha wolf would, but he suppressed it.  He did not wish to injure, merely to pleasure, and her swollen and sensitive organs would surely take contusion from such action.  It would never do.

 

As he watched her with his nostrils flared, she closed the distance to him and looked expectantly into his face.

 

Best to light the stick right then, before she pushed him outside of his control.

 

He turned from her and ignited the slender back wand, then placed it firmly into the holder, blowing the flame out quickly once the end was bright red.  The sweet smoke that arose goaded his desire, and he wondered briefly if the person who had created the scent had named it Aphrodesia for that reason.

 

Quickly, he grasped the vial of Patchouli oil from the lace-covered surface of the credenza.  Too quick, too hard-he felt the tiny bottle shift its shape slightly in his hand. Control...calm must be had before he would continue; he knew he would not stop to bandage his hand should he clench his fist until the bottle broke.

 

Closing his eyes, he watched a mental metronome swing slowly back and forth, back and forth, yes, that was right…slower and slower went the pendulum, his heartbeat and blood pressure fighting him but eventually succumbing to his mental power, and slowing nicely to a reasonably safe rhythm.

 

He paused for a moment until he was certain that they were quelled in their mutiny on him…for now anyway.

 

Clarice watched him as he paused, well aware of his mental struggle with himself, and it pleased her mightily.  She secretly enjoyed watching his lust for her run conflict with his infamous iron-clad control, and the thrill of doing something dangerous filled her, even though she was not yet sure of exactly what he had in store for that night.

 

Perhaps a nice massage?  She had seen him take a tiny bottle into his hand, surely massage oil.  That would be fantastic, it would ease the tension in her back and behind her kidneys.  Hannibal always empathized with her during this time, and was ever considerate by doing such things.

 

He had never failed to amaze her this way.  If the world knew this other side of him, the side that only she had come to know, they would either disbelieve or reel with shock; it would be the story of the century, of that she was sure, and it was fantastic enough to be a legend it its own time, like his brutality. And it was all hers; hers only.  She valued it more than whatever jewel he could present her with.

 

Calmed, Hannibal turned to her and approached her.

 

“You please me immensely tonight, Clarice.  Thank you for wearing white.”

 

“You’re welcome.  I like red on you…it’s very you. Gives you some more color, I hope you’ll wear it again.”

 

“Oh, I have every intention of it…. every intention…” his voice trailed off as a slight mysterious grin slipped over his features.

 

“I’ve pictured white as perfect for you ever since we first met in Baltimore, and even now you are mine wholly.  I like the virginal look on you, it has an appeal.”

 

He slipped his arms around her, to the back of the nightgown where the zipper pull hung.

 

“But I like the splendor of you nude before me better, I’m afraid.  May I?”

 

Clarice had caught the glint of the bottle in his hand.  Definitely a massage was on the agenda, how wonderful.

 

“Please do.”

 

Drandmrslecter:

 

Clarice let the nightgown fall down to her ankles as Hannibal stood before her as he watched it fall to the floor.

 

She was left wearing only her silk panties….and a tampon.

 

Hannibal gazed at her, the red sparks flying like fireworks in his dark maroon eyes.

 

“Lay down.” was all he said to her as Clarice moved over to the bed and got on her tummy.

 

Hannibal poured the oil into his open palm as he then began to massage it deeply into her back.  Clarice let out a small sigh as he rubbed in a circular motion over her entire upper and lower back. Clarice’s muscles immediately began to relax as her eyes remained closed the entire time.  He then slowly made his way down her legs and ankles.

 

“That’s amazing,” she said as he continued to rub the oil into her using techniques he had read about in the Kama Sutra. 

 

“I’m so glad you’re enjoying it,” Hannibal responded, all the while remaining deliberate in his movements.

 

“Now..on your back,” he instructed as Clarice turned over and presented her front to him.  She was laying on the fresh linens he had put there earlier and they soaked up the oil well.

 

Hannibal then gently continued to massage her, starting with her temples and working slowly down from her neck, then her shoulders, arms and hands before moving to her legs and ankles once more. 

 

Clarice’s eyes watched him so she could see the control he was displaying and she almost let out a small giggle.  She knew how “good” he was behaving, almost like a little boy on his best behavior so he can get his treat later. He saw the smile she had on her face as he chuckled.

 

“Are you enjoying this, Clarice?” he asked.

 

“You know I am,” she answered with a smile.

 

“Good,” was all he said as he finished massaging her, placed the bottle back onto the credenza, and covered her with himself.

 

“Are you ready for me, my darling” Hannibal then said looking down at her and balancing his weight on his elbows.

 

Clarice wrapped her arms around his neck and gazed at him lovingly as she answered very softly-

 

“Yes.”

 

“Are you comfortable?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“May I begin?”

 

“Yes, Hannibal, you may.”

 

Hannibal then put his lips to Clarice’s as their tongues embarked on a magical journey.  They began to nip at each other’s mouths as Clarice’s hands caressed his face and as she ran her fingers through his dark hair.

 

Hannibal let out some small moans as his mouth then moved very slowly down her neck to her breasts where he began to tongue her nipples, making tiny circles around each one.

Clarice watched as she sighed and continued running her fingers through his hair.

 

He then ran his tongue further down, now making his way between her breasts, down her tummy, over her belly button and down to the top of  her panties.  His hands caressed each inch of her as he continued to kiss and lick.  Clarice lay there in ecstasy, sighing and softly saying “Yes….baby….yes,” as she felt Hannibal smile.

 

Once at her panties, Hannibal glanced up and looked into Clarice’s eyes.  She continued to watch him as she gave a little nod of approval.

 

Hannibal then slowly lowered Clarice’s panties down to her ankles and removed them.  His stiff penis now poked through the flap of his boxers as he raised himself to get them off and throw them onto the floor. All that was left now was the careful task of removing her tampon.

 

He then looked at her as she continued watching his artful work as she gave another nod.

He took that as his cue as he placed one hand on her pubic bone and the other on the string.  Placing his fingers gently around her labia, he slowly pulled the tampon out as Clarice lay motionless.  He placed the tampon on the credenza next to the bottle of oil, looked at Clarice and said,

 

“I love you.  What I now take from you now I take out of  love and desire, not lust.”

 

“I know.”

 

Clarice then spread her legs as Hannibal then lowered his face to place his mouth over her entire vaginal opening.  His lips were directly on her labia as he then began to kiss and lick them. 

 

His tongue then lightly circled the folds of her inner labia as he inhaled deeply and started to lick her wet and red juices from her soft tissue.

 

He held onto her legs and tightened his grip on her as he buried his head deeper and deeper inside of her, being careful not to press too hard as to cause her any cramping.

 

Clarice held onto his head as she writhed.  She began to groan as he took his nourishment from  her. She continued to say “Yes…” as he continued to eat and drink of her.

 

“Don’t stop,” she managed to sigh as he she felt the vibrations of his groans inside of her as he licked and sucked like a hungry infant.

 

 Horserider91271-

 

It was every bit as good as it had been the very first time....

 

Clarice had watched in pleasant surprise, too stunned to make any commentary. It had never even occurred to her to think that a man would want a woman during this time, much less like what Hannibal was doing to her.

 

The Lutheran home and their teachings about adolescence had not ever sprouted the idea in her mind, nor had any of her brief dates. The only person who she had ever discussed the subject with at length was Ardelia, and they had not talked of this.

 

But like in all things, she might have known it would be a far different experience with Hannibal.

 

She had expected a massage, and was presented with the best one she had gotten from him yet.

 

When he had lit the second stick of incense, the room was thick and dreamy with scented smoke, and a light she had never before seen had crept into his eyes.

 

He had slowly stroked and licked her upper body, making her mad with desire that she couldn't sate; she was on her period, and everyone knew men didn't like to bother around that mess...

 

...or so she thought. Hannibal's hands had inched down to her panties and slid them down her legs. She was quite lost in his other attentions to her when she realized her underwear was clutched in his hand. She looked at him, confused, as he put it to his face and inhaled her essence. She blinked stupidly, transfixed by the peaceful look on his face as his nostrils widened, his eyes closed in carnal pleasure.

 

He opened them then, and she swam in the maroon pools as she heard the low tones of his voice, not venom now but velvet:

 

"Clarice, remember when I asked you if you thought I was helping you, giving you clues, because I liked to think of how you would taste...about eating you up?"

 

A tiny thread of fear pushed its way into Clarice's mind. She shoved it down into the blackest pool of her subconscious until it drowned there and she could reply without a hitch in her voice.

 

As she did so, Hannibal wound the string of the tampon around his index finger and eased it out by such minute degrees that it slipped out without notice and lay on the bed. Neither looked at it; they gazed into each others eyes, suspended in the question.

 

Clarice cleared her throat.

 

"Yes. I remember perfectly. And....you do. You want to now."

 

The possibility had always been there; she knew it from the very beginning. The chance one took when having any sort of relationship with a cannibal.

 

"Yesssss....Clarice, I want your flesh and your blood. Now, here. But you will enjoy it, that I promise you. You are my one true love, Clarice, and I want all of you in every sense of the word."

 

She closed her eyes slowly, and nodded her permission to her fate...

 

...and she could only hope that Death would treat her this way, as the truth of his words came to her suddenly with the first gentle stroke of his warm tongue between her legs.

 

At first he tasted her hesitantly, like a younger man might his first sip of very expensive wine.

 

Then his hunger grew for her body's liquor, and he growled hoarsely as he lapped her juices furiously. She gazed at him, stunned at first that he had meant this, then she lay back and enjoyed the tongue and the teeth that were eating and cleansing her like never before.

 

Hannibal held his lust for his love strongly in check as he lavished his best attentions on every spot that he knew pleased her most, and with her sensitivity at this time, it was more than she could bear.

 

She began to thrash on the bed, bucking against his wet face that was no longer very visible. He stayed there, keeping with her rhythm and not letting up the momentum of his hunger.

 

He growled louder at her, and it was the tiny noises of his suckling at her that met her ears last as she was driven over the edge.

 

She screamed his name, and she felt her abdomen spasm; he nipped her gently then locked his mouth over her swollen cleft, as the delicious metallic flood came with her usual one and he took all of it, savoring it and losing none.

 

When he felt her shuddering let up after a few minutes, he blew gently into her and sucked lightly on her again as she gasped and perspired. When he was quite sure he'd had all she had to offer at this time, he licked her clean, taking his time and allowing her to rest without further exciting her.

 

Clarice had come down from the heady feeling to see Hannibal resting his chin lightly on her pubic bone, his eyes shining a glowing red. That color was matched by another lower on his face...the remnants of the meal he had pleased her so by eating, the last of her juices slowly trickling down to his chin where they held in suspension and did not fall.

 

She was held captive by the spectacle.

 

Had he looked like this at any of his crime scenes? In Memphis? If so, she did not let it trouble her any more than the simple wondering of the question. It was easily the most erotic scene she had ever witnessed.

 

"Hannibal," she finally breathed.

 

"Clarice..." the name was reverent on his lips.

 

"In Bozeman...we always had the flesh too...at communion."

 

"Are you ready for that? Or do you think I could injure you?"

 

"No. Please...."

 

It was closest thing to a beg she could muster.

 

"Clarice, if I could have you this way every night forever, then I would not take exception to being called religious. I would like to receive this 'communion' with you often..."

 

"Oh please, yes, Hannibal -"

 

She hadn't a chance to finish because her words were cut off by the throaty moan she emitted as he entered her without another word.

 

He took her first, and they exchanged the pleasures of the flesh all night as they consummated their love again and again, their deep understanding of each other punctuating their vocalizations as they screamed and howled their ecstasy into the wee morning. Exhausted, they had then slept.

 

And it got better and better every time, this 'communion' of sorts that they shared every month.

 

Clarice lay still, saving her energy until just the right moment, which would be soon with Hannibal's skill geting progressively better...as it did every time.

 

She would need all of her strength, and she smiled at the thought of it.

 

Fin

Copyright 2001, Drandmrslecter & Horserider91271

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