Past-Part Fills Post 1 -- CLOSED

[hetalia_kink]

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Part 5 Russia and Girl!America as Humbert and Lolita 2/?

[anonymous]

Shall we start at the very beginning? I was born in Moscow, in the winter of 1974 to a Fyodor and Anna Braginsky. There was nothing particularly traumatic or devastating or even very interesting at all about my childhood. I had two sister, and older and a younger, Yekaterina and Natalya. The older, poor shy Katyusha, from what I hear has moved up to Canada and married a man named Matthew. She seems happy and when I get myself together a little more I plan on seeing if she’ll allow me to move in with her. I’m sure she’ll let me, she fawned on me so when I was a child.

As for my unfortunate younger Natasha, her tragic part is later in the story.

When I was eleven or so, my parents decided we would move to America. I can’t quite recall the reason; it was either to be closer to relatives that had already moved there or to be able to find work. Eleven year olds do not really concern themselves with such things.

As mentioned earlier, my childhood was not very interesting. (Compared to the nymphic Utopia I had so ephemerally held in my palm, how can mere mortal pleasures hold any interest any more?) My adolescent and teenage years seemed to fly by and I was a man, but not of normal stock. If only I were.

No. As fate would have it, I was what Nabokov described as a nympholept: the artist and madman whose life was forever haunted by the shadow of the demon child, the temptress that is the nymphet. The diabolical yet irresistible species from which spawned my Emily.

Part 5 Russia and Girl!America as Humbert and Lolita 5b/?

[anonymous]

You may think me sick. A corrupter of an innocent child, a perverse man hounding a pure and naïve soul who couldn’t possibly understand what was wanted from her. If Emily had had been a normal mortal human girl, you would be quite right. But remember, dear audience, under her glamour of innocence sweet Milly is a nymphet. She is by her very nature a coquettish seducer and ensnarer, born to tempt men, men who truly try to deny themselves in attempts to be decent people, into insanity and despair. Ah, Emily. Our Lady of the Maddening Desires.

“Vanya, darling? Are you feeling alright?”

All of a sudden a strange disembodied voice emerged from the ether to ruin my delightful fantasies. Oh. Even worse. It was Natasha.

“Is it the heat? You’re not used to summers here; you were teaching literature in Maine right? And before that we were all in Russia…Oh listen to me go while you’re melting, poor baby.”

In the name of all that is sacred and pure in this world, Tasha could not keep her little trap shut. I only survived her babbling because her mouth had been passed down to Emma, small, with full pink lips a shade or so darker than usual. Lips of the same variety seen only elsewhere on the finest porcelain dolls. I watched Natalya talk, watched Emmy’s sweet mouth form words and phrases, “Do you like this on me,” becoming “I want you.” “Em’s going to summer camp in a week, we’ll be all alone,” transforming into “Your Em’s right here for you, Vanya; take me.”

This strategy kept me from falling asleep and as an added boon perpetuated the illusion that I was as eager to pursue a forbidden incestuous relationship as Tasha was. It was not that great of a lie, I did desire an illicit incestuous relationship after all, even if it wasn’t the one Natalya had so passionately hoped for.