Belladonna - Trick or Treat (Patreon)

“I don’t see why we have to do this.”

Belladonna was behind the changing screen and had been for the last hour.  Meticulously preparing herself for tonight.  She had come home irritated, saying that there was some sort of problem with a current batch of fledglings and she had half a mind to just kill them all and use their bodies as decorations. Which promptly sent our daughter running into the other room, screaming.  Somehow, we had wound up with the kindness little soul for a child and it surprised Belladonna each and every time she looked at one of us with unshed tears. Belladonna had gone to apologize and not even ten minutes later I heard giggling from the lavish room they had sequestered herself in. Emerging, Bella gave me strict orders to go get dressed and to leave the child alone. She was ‘preparing’.

While they both preened, I had been sitting on the settee in front of the fire, which is where I still resided closed to forty minutes later.

“It’s important to her,” I told Bella.  “All the other kids are going out tonight. We can’t just make her stay in.”

“Why not? We’ll give her candy and she can run around the room on a sugar rush before passing out in front of the fire. Then you and I can go have our fun.” She said it was that telling purr of hers. Dipping her voice into something raspy and low.

“You and I can still have our fun,” I pointed out. “After trick or treating.”

There was a huff from behind the partition. She had refused to let me come see what she was wearing for the night. I had to trust it would be somewhat appropriate.  Then again, it wasn’t as if anyone was going to say anything. Not with her being a Baron.

Behind me, the door burst open as our daughter came barreling into the room. Our little mini, we often called her. Given any specific light, she was the spitting image of either of us.  Jumping into my arms, she threw herself at me, wrapping herself tightly around my neck and waist. I snorted in laughter as I saw what she was wearing.

“Vampire, huh?”

She grinned. “Just like mommy.”

“Not just like mommy, dear,” Belladonna said from behind the partition. “You are not old enough to dress just like mommy.”

Mini grinned. “Just like mommy,” she repeated. If there was anything our daughter was good at, it was sheer stubbornness.  She wore a black dress and tights with little embossed bats on it.  And a long velvet black cape. Her auburn curls were pined up on top of her head and she had clearly stolen some of Belladonna’s jewelry and dabbed her lips with rogue to simulate blood.

“I think you look exactly like mommy,” I told her, brushing my nose against hers and making her giggle.

“Not tonight.”  Belladonna stepped out from where she had been hiding and I nearly choked on my spit. She wore a short all white latex dress with knee-high white leather boots. Above her head she fashioned a glittering halo and had strapped white feathered wings to her back.  I would say her expression looked very demure except for the fact that her breasts were nearly falling out of the dress in some display of gravity defying stubbornness.

“Oh, mommy,” Mini sighed. “You are beautiful.”

Belladonna smiled softly at her. “And you are perfectly ghoulish tonight, my little baron.”

Mini clapped, hopping down from me and running to get her basket.  Belladonna turned to me with an arched brow.

“You dressed up,” I said, throat dry.

“Of course I dressed up. It’s Hallow something or another.” Stepping towards me, she wrapped her arms around me, pressing herself firmly to my front. “You know, where I am from, this was the night of devil worship.”

“Is it?” I squeaked, feeling the blood rush through my veins at her chilly embrace.

“Mm hm. So I was thinking,” leaning forward, she brushed her lips across the fluttering pulse of my neck. “You could worship me tonight, if you’d like.” She bit down on the meat of my neck, sucking just hard enough to bruise.

Before I answered, Mini came bounding back into the room. “Ready!”

Belladonna stepped away, as if she had done nothing. I cleared my throat, rubbing at my neck. She hadn’t broken the skin but she was close to it.

“Wonderful,” Bella started. “I thought we would go trick or treating at the Warden’s first.”

I snorted in laughter, trying to regain control of myself. “Yes, because I’m sure he’ll be so very pleased at your outfit.”

“I see nothing wrong with it. Come along, darling,” she said to our daughter, picking her up and holding her close. “Tonight's the night of goblins and ghouls. When the moon is pumpkin orange and the spirits rise to walk in the world. It is a night of magic. Of deception. Of pure and utter terror.”

“And candy,” Mini reminded her.

Belladonna smiled. “And so much candy.”

True to her promise, we walked out into the market, surrounded with orange pumpkin shaped lanterns and children running around in homemade costumes. Vendors set up their booths, handing out candy to any that passed by, and if anyone lurking in the shadows dared to scare our little girl, Belladonna silently slipped off to take care of it. It looked as if tonight was filled with treats for her as well.

Coming back after one particular incident, she licked her lips.

“You need to stop doing that,” I whispered to her, watching as the children of the streets ran wild.

“No.” A spot of blood was on her pure white dress.  With the pad of my finger, I wiped it off, the latex suddenly making far more sense as the stain came out immediately. While our daughter went to retrieve more candy, I held my finger up for Belladonna. Her tongue reached out, licking it from me, her fangs grazing my finger as my own blood bubbled forward.  Her pupils dilated to near black at the taste.

“Mommy,” Mini sniffled.

Belladonna turned to our daughter immediately, as if she hadn’t just been fucking me with her eyes. “Yes darling?”

“They were out of candy. That was the one Billy said had the good stuff too.”

“Well that is unacceptable.” Turning to me, she looked me up and down. “I’ll go take care of this.”

“Bella,” I warned.

But she was already off.

Picking Mini up, I sighed, watching as Belldaonn berated the shop vendor for being out of candy before her daughter got there. The vendor was scrambling, trying to find something she could give us while the adjacent vendors began to make sure they had enough for the little baron heiress that was coming their way.

In my arms, Mini sighed. “Mommy is scary,” she said in a dreamy tone.

I cuddled her close as Belladonna stood there in full angel glory, flashing her fangs and describing in detail how she would ruin this person's entire life if they did not produce at least a candy apple.

“Yes,” I agreed. “Yes she is.” And I loved her for it.