Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12880344.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      No_Archive_Warnings_Apply, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      A_Cure_For_Wellness_(2016)
  Relationship:
      Hannah/Dr._Volmer
  Additional Tags:
      Belly_Rubs, Belly_Kink, remembering_eels_in_belly, Nursing, faked_belly
      pain, Manipulation, Unresolved_Sexual_Tension, Incest, Mind_Manipulation,
      Nursing_Kink, Parent/Child_Incest, Volmer_does_his_best_to_keep_his_lust
      under_control
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-12-01 Words: 1436
****** The late night visit ******
by Roselyn
Summary
     Dr. Volmer suffers from late night horny.
     He takes his pleasure in what ways he can. . .
     (kinda sequel to 'My sweet, cruel child')
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Dr. Heinreich Volmer slips into the moonlit bedroom, silent as a shadow. He has
promised himself not to visit the girl after dark, to restrain his lust, but
tonight he could not help himself. Not when his aching has turned into burning
agony, keeping him tossing and turning in his bed next door.
He stalks towards the bed, stopping to admire the slender sleeping figure,
illuminated the pale silvery light.
He crawls on the bed, hand firmly against his belly. “Hannah, are you awake?”
The girl stirs, her sleep blurred eyes growing wide with the sight of him. He
has never been in her room this late. The night has passed its mid a long time
ago. . .
“Dr. Volmer, what are you doing in my room?” Her voice is silent, startled.
“I wish you to comfort me, Hannah,” he tells her, laying down by her side.
“Just as before.”
“N-now? Here?”
Volmer nods, trying to keep his breathing steady. “Yes. Now.”
They have never done it outside the cellars, but he cannot wait long enough to
lure the girl down there. He has to feel her touch on his skin, or he’d lose
it. It has been so long since the last time; over two weeks, he recalls. The
girl has been so reluctant after the eels. . .
“B-but your hands —there is nothing to tie your hands with,” the girl protests,
meekly.
“You don’t have to tie my hands, Hannah,” Volmer breathes, fingers undoing the
buttons of his pajamas. “I’ll keep my hands on the pillow, up close to my head,
where you can see them. Like they would be tied. . .” It is a risk, he knows.
One he is willing to take.
Hannah stops him, her slender fingers landing on his larger hand. Her fingers
are cool, always so cool.
“Do you not want me exposed?” Volmer asks, remembering her lips and tongue,
trailing on his swollen stomach, hot and tormenting, driving the wiggling eels
crazy. He had looked forward to feeling such pleasures again tonight.
Hannah shakes her head, shy yet determined. “No. It was different before. You
were in pain. The cure made you hurt,” she whispers. Her thumb fondles the back
of his hand, persuading it to leave the buttons alone. Volmer isn’t on agreeing
mood.
“I am in a lot of pain now, Hannah,” he breathes, grabbing her wrists.
She jerks with the gesture and so Volmer lets go, unwilling to startle her.
“Hannah please. . .” he attempts, summoning a pained expression on his face. “I
am your doctor; you do not wish me to suffer, do you?”
Hannah shakes her head again, gently pushing him back down. “I will help you, I
promise. I will make it better. Just —just keep your hands on the pillow. . .”
Volmer is more than willing to accept her terms and does as she bids, raising
his hands to rest on the pillow close to the bedpost. “See, just like they
would be tied up,” he encourages the girl, fighting a satisfied smile as Hannah
begins to undo his buttons right where he left them.
She is slow in her movements, her knuckles brushing against the tender skin of
his flat belly through the black satin of his pajamas. The sensation is
delicious, making Dr. Volmer breathe a little faster.
"Hurry Hannah, hurry. You cannot even imagine the agony I am in,” he purrs,
letting out a pleased exhale as the girl’s fingers finally make contact with
his bare skin.
Her touch is as comforting as ever, moving slowly clockwise, as always as she
begins. She’s soon to come distracted, however, and her slender fingers start
to move on more spontaneous patterns.
They trail the line between his abs, down his chest towards the navel and up
again. Sometimes her hand slips to massage his sides, or if he’s lucky, her
torturous fingers find their way to his lower abdomen, trailing the low
waistline of his pajama pants.
Volmer realizes his unbound hands have begun to shake with the gesture and so
he presses them tighter against the pillow, closing his eyes. He wonders if
Hannah sees his arousal, if she knows what her touch does to him. He hopes she
does, prays it even. It would make things so much easier in the future, when
his long wait would finally come to its end.
Hannah adds a bit pressure, her gentle hand sliding up and down his tender
flesh, massaging, teasing, making Volmer’s toned abs tense to a point of
cramping.
His hands begin to shake worse and he knows he must have his release quickly,
before he loses control.
“Your lips Hannah,” he breathes raggedly, twisting, forcing his hands to stay
against the pillow. “I want to feel your lips, like before.”
Hannah grows shy again, her hand stops. “I-I do not want to.”
Volmer fears he is going to lose his mind —or worse, take the girl before her
time. He has to be patient, he knows, but he needs this. He has to have this.
“Please, Hannah, please!” he rasps, making sure not to raise his voice too
much. Not enough to startle her, not enough to let someone hear them. “I am
going to die. . . I have cramps. J-just help me past the cramps. . .” It is
vile and dishonest, but at this point he is ready to spill out any lie, that
would guarantee him his pleasure.
“Is it . . . is it the cure?” the girl ask silently. Her hand rests on the peak
of his belly, cruel, unmoving.
Yes. Yes. Dr. Volmer wants to nod in his passion, but knows Hannah might not
believe it. She knows he will not try the cure again, not swallow the eels to
torment him from the inside. He cannot give her this lie; she knows that after
two weeks, the cure no longer causes him symptoms. And so he offers her another
lie instead, the very one he has told her for so many years.
“It’s my condition, Hannah. You know of my condition; of the cramps I have. The
painful cramps. . .”
Volmer groans, arching his back, offering himself, making sure he looks to be
in severe pain. And he is, only in different way than he leads Hannah to
believe.
The good-hearted girl she is, Hannah is swift to react. She hushes him, nearly
panicking, leaning in over his stomach, though Volmer can tell she looks
slightly disappointed. Perhaps she liked him better with the eels, swollen and
rounded. . .
Her lips land on his belly, right below his navel, making Volmer gasp in
pleasure. His back arches again, without his permission, and he has to fist his
hands to keep them from grabbing the girl and pulling her under him.
Hannah moves up his belly, leaving a trail of light kisses on his pale skin.
Her hands follow the trail, almost like securing he is given all the comfort he
needs. Still, Volmer feels she is heading the wrong direction. Unless, she was
going to kiss him. He knows it’s a fool’s hope, but he plays with the thought
anyway, getting so lost in his pleasure that he barely notices the girl has
switched the touch of her lips to the heat of her tongue.
She moves down again, leaving a hot wet trail on his skin. Volmer’s hands have
moved the squeeze the pillow now, his fingers digging roughly into the soft
cotton. He is on the edge, squirming, aching, burning. . .
Doing his best to keep the last shreds of control he has left. He groans, his
hips leaving the mattress.
“Dr. Volmer?”
“Heinreich, call me Heinreich,” is his feverish passionate chant.
“Heinreich,” Hannah whispers, and runs her tongue along the low waistline of
his tightened trousers, from hip bone to hip bone.
And Volmer loses it.
He yanks her up, roughly claiming her mouth. She tastes sweet. Oh so sweet!
Like strawberries, honey and clear spring water. He pants heavily when he moves
back for air, the girl’s hand still resting on his stomach.
“Let me lay on top of you Hannah, j-just for a moment. . . Let me lay on top of
you. . .”
She startles like a frightened deer, darting out of the moonlit bed before
Volmer does have a chance to get a good grip on her.
“Hannah!”
The door opens and with a flash of a white nightgown, she is gone.
Volmer knows there is no point in chasing after her. He knows he has gone too
far and fears he has lost her trust.
He leaves her bedroom, slipping back into his own, burning, aching, without his
release. . .
End Notes
     Hope you liked it. ;)
     I think there will be more of these coming.
     I'm kinda sucker for this whole idea and pairing.
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