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After the Angel	By : kharkcom Category: M through R > Phantom of the Opera Views: 5808 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera, and I do not make any money from these writings

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Erique hid in the shadows outside Cat's room and waited. It seemed Elizabeth wasn't home and most of the servants were running errands. He entered through the window and went straight for her wardrobe. As the doors opened, dozens of brightly colored fabrics spilled out. Deep blues, lush reds, brilliant purples, rich greens, lavish golds and night colored blacks in silks, satins, velvets and lace. Carefully he chose seven gowns to err on the side of caution. Hopefully, she'd find at least one wearable. He pulled out four silks, one in bright scarlet, another in deep plum, a dusty rose and a black shot through with silver threads. Then he grabbed a midnight blue velvet gown and two satins, one a dark topaz and the other he found in the very back of the wardrobe. It was a pure white with pale silver embroidery and sparkling beading.

He laid the dresses on the bed and went to her bureau. Undergarments in various jewel toned silks threaten to explode out of the drawer he opened. He chose a pair to match every dress then did the same with corsets and stockings before setting the pile with the dresses.

"I think I have everything she'll need. I never picked out clothes for Christine or anything other female-" He stopped. "I need a nightgown or something before she takes off more clothes." A sigh escaped him as he looked around to spot a wine colored gown on a chair by her bed. A black robe embroidered with roses of the same wine color was folded up beside it.

"That will do." He went over to grab them both and almost tripped over the violin case sticking out from under the bed.

"Hmm. I wonder if she plays." He pulled the case all the way out and saw her name written in gold ink across the front.

"I suppose she does. Should I?" He thought for a moment before putting the case on the bed beside the clothes. He gathered the nightgown and robe before setting Cat's note in plain view on the vanity. Erique found a garment bag for the dresses and a small truck for everything else. As he surveyed the room a final time, he noticed a slightly opened door that led to a bathroom. After gathering her pretty ebony hairbrush and various soaps, shampoos and perfumes he threw them in the trunk.

"What has become of me? Picking out clothes for a little girl... I used to be the terror of the opera house." He sighed. "Now I am nothing more than a maid and messenger. Old age has certainly mellowed me." As he was leaving with the bag, truck and instrument case he bumped the nightstand. A small black leather bound book tooled with roses fell on to the floor.

"A…diary?" He set down his burden, picked up the book and opened it to a page. Neat, handwriting with lots of flourishes flowed across the paper.

"I shouldn't read this. It's not polite." As he said it his eyes ran over the page.

13-02-1821

Saint Valentine's Day is tomorrow. This will be my nineteenth time this inane holiday has come around. Yet again I will be spending it on my own. Lizzy has several suitors who seem to be fighting for the right to spend the day with her. I am sure she will figure it out. She keeps insisting I need to worry more about my lack of courters. What she seems to miss is that it is not as though they do not exist. There are plenty of boys who wish to court me but that is all. Boys. I have already determined I will never find the gentleman of my dreams. Emphasis on the 'man' part.

I do not want a boy. I want a man. I want someone strong and powerful, someone sweet and generous, someone dark and beautiful yet masculine and someone intelligent and creative. And I want more. I want someone who more than likely does not exist.

That’s interesting. Nineteen? Really? I would have never guessed. He looked at the book with a soft smile and flipped to another page.

14-04-1821

I have been having the most unladylike fantasies as of late. I am a little confused and I cannot seem to control them. They simply suddenly appear in my head. Visions of myself bent over a powerful man’s knee, my skirts flipped up, my bloomer pulled down. He applied his hand again and again, spanking my bottom roughly. The worst part of this is not the image itself, it is how aroused I become whenever these visions appear.

I crave this scene and others like it. Being stripped of my clothing and tied to a bed or the wall, being forced to beg on my knees for mercy, relief or more, being tormented, humiliated, abused and pleasured beyond my wildest dreams. I want this. I want it a lot. I do not just want any powerful man dominating me however.

I want to find a man who respects my independence yet is still dominate and controlling. A man who realizes I only ignore what he says so he will punish me for it. A man who is gentle, loving, strict, cruel, kind, caring, harsh, demanding and creative. One who knows pleasing him in every way is what pleases me most of all. Someone who will turn me over his lap and spank me till my bottom is crimson then kiss me and make it all. The man I want would have to be a hundred opposing things. It simply is not possible. I know this. I always have. It does not stop me from craving it however.

He snapped the book shut and tucked it back in its hiding spot. "Well. That’s interesting. She has desires I would never have expected. Desires that could work out nicely for me. Gentle, loving, strict, cruel, kind, caring, harsh, demanding and creative? I have a few of those qualities." He sighed.

"It was so much easier to think of her as a child. This may however make it worth it to play servant. And this does answer a few questions. However, it also creates a dozen more." He gathered up her things and swept out of the window.

***

Cat was sprawled across the bed reading, a sheet thrown across her legs while her chemise had slid down, showing her white shoulders and the tops of her creamy breasts. Her long hair was pulled in to a loose bun atop her head, leaving the line of her neck bare.

Stretching in a rather feline manner, she sat up and looked around. "How long does it take to get an outfit? I am bored. When is he coming back?"

Just as she finished her sentence Erique walked in, a bag thrown over one shoulder, a trunk under an arm and a violin case in the other hand.

"You brought my violin. And everything else. Thank you."

" I thought it would be something you could entertain yourself with that does not require standing."

She smiled at him, barely keeping the mischief from showing. "Did you leave my note?"

He nodded. "And here are your clothes." He sat them on the bed next to her and tried to ignore how her chemise had slipped further to reveal a hint of rose colored nipple.

"Thank you." She began shifting through the dresses to see what he had brought her. After frowning at the white gown, Cat removed the gold one and searched for the accompanying undergarments.

"Do you need help?" He asked as he watched the entire process rather interested. It was not often it got to watch a woman dress right in front of him.

"No. I have it. But it would be best if you left for a bit."

"Yes. I suppose it would. Well. Call if you need any help." He replied while walking out slowly.

"I will." She turned her back to him and stripped off her shirt. In the process her bun was knocked loose. Her tresses tumbled down her back, a rich almost black against her fair skin that highlighted the sweet curve of her waist. Erique saw all this is the mirror as he strode the rest of the way out of the room rather stiffly.

Cat glanced behind her to make sure he was past the sable curtain and out of sight. She then stood quickly and stripped off the bloomers and stockings as well. Her bare skin glowed in the candlelight, her nipples stiffening softly in the chilly air. She looked over at her reflection in the mirror. Dark glittering eyes looking back at her, framed by black lashes, stark against her cream skin. Her lips were red and lush, her hair softly messed, just enough to make it look like she had a really good night. Her gaze traveled lower, making sure she wasn't too bruised and battered. Other than her ankle and a few fading marks from random accidents she was fine.

She sat back on the bed and began pulling her soft golden stockings up over her smooth, shapely legs. Her matching tawny bloomers went on her followed by a petticoat when she realized she had a problem.

"Erique?" Cat called out unsurely. "I need you to lace my corset." She quickly crossed her arms to cover her chest.

He walked in to see her partially dressed, the gold shade highlighting the color of her skin. She knelt on the edge of the bed, her back to him, her long hair tossed over one shoulder, waiting. He smiled softly at the pretty picture she made.

She's got a lovely shape. Especially the sweet curve of her neck, the soft contour of her waist, the swell of her slim hips. Dressed like this you can see it's natural. You can also see how pert and heart shaped her bottom is. The journal entry filled him mind. Spank me till my bottom is crimson. Turn me over his lap and spank me. He quickly gave a sigh and pushed the thoughts away, just as she turned around to see what was taking so long.

"Well? What are you waiting for?"

"Patience ma petite chat." He picked up her corset and slid it in to position, his hand accidentally brushing against the edge of her breast. Her eyes widened slightly and his breath caught in his throat but neither said a word about it.

Quickly, he began to lace her up. Cat had been wearing a corset for as long as she could remember but it did very little for her slim figure even laced as tight as it would go. She wore it more out of habit than anything else. Somehow, however, Erique managed to lace her tighter than anyone before. She took an experimental breathe, found that she could see mostly breathe and turned to face him.

"Thank you. Now hand me the dress." She had the tone of a person used to being obeyed. He ignored it and handed over the shimmering satin. Cat threw the dress over her head, slipping her arms in to the elbow length bell shelves. "Buttons please."

His hands flew over the tiny buttons, fastening every one swiftly.. Forgetting that she was hurt, Cat stood when he had finished to straighten out her skirts. Before she could touch her dress, he had a hand on her shoulder and pressed her back down on to the bed.

"You are supposed to stay down." He said firmly.

"Would you just stop it? I am fine." She sounded exasperated.

"I said stay down" His voice went hard and strict. "And you will listen to me."

A strange mix of surprise, annoyance and excitement flashed across her face while something hot wrapped around her insides. She started to give a snappy reply and found that her voice wouldn't work. After swallowing several times, she tried again.

"Fine then. I shall stay down for the moment." In a different tone her words would have sounded indignant but somehow she couldn't quite manage.

Erique had to fight to keep the shock from his face. That worked? Really? Hmm. She sat on the bed, looking up at him to see what he'd do was next. Her wide, almost frightened eyes made her look even younger while clashing sharply with the amount of her small, pert breasts that her corset pushed up in to his view. Now what should I do? I feel the need to get to know her better. About her family, her life, how she became herself. Everything.

"Tell me about yourself." He said while sat himself down in a chair.

"Me?" She asked. "Why? What do you want to know?"

"Everything. Start with your childhood. Parents, siblings, friends, pets, and so on."

"I was an only child. My parents died when I was eight. I found out later they had been planning on telling me my mother was pregnant. I was raised by my uncle." Her voice was quiet, her face turned down memorizing the satin fabric in her lap.. "I only really have one friend. I was at her house when the fire happened, visiting for the weekend. Other than that I have had a variety of cats over the years. Anything else?"

She's alone. Like me. "I am sorry."

"Do not be. It was a long time ago. Twelve years next month to be exact. And Lizzy's parents were there for me."

"Lizzy?" He asked. "I have heard you mention her. Is she your only friend?"

"Elizabeth Sharpe. Yes she is my friend. My best friend. We have been together since we were five. I love her like a sister and her parents practically adopted me. My uncle was not around much. Running a duchy is rather time consuming."

"A duchy?" Erique sounded impressed.

"Yes. He is the Duke of Cheshire."

"The Duke of Cheshire? The one that plans on running for Prime Minister? That Duke? Honestly?"

"I had forgotten about that but yes. I did not realize you were so up on English politics."

Ignoring the implied question, he continued. "Then your parents were the Count and Countess of Essex. Your mother was French. The fire was all over the newspapers here. It was suspected arson. It's still unsolved as far as I know."

"It is." She replied simply while looking at her hands in her lap.

"Tell me about something else. The anniversary of your birth, why you are in France."

"Those happen to coincide. This trip was a present from Elizabeth's parents for our birthdays. Mine was last week, on May 1st, Lizzy's is April 27th. Also, my parents had a few houses here. One in the city and two more in the country. My uncle decided while I am here I should check their condition."

"How old are you?" He blurted out when she finished.

"I just turned twenty. Why?"

"Are you lying?" He asked intently.

"Of course not. Why would I?" She looked up at him.

I am not as warped as I feared. She is not the child I thought. That's one bright point. "You look younger." His fingers raked through his dark hair.

A glare was her only reply.

"What is your favorite color?" Recovering from his relief, Erique changed the subject.

"Black." She replied quickly before blushing. "I mean…lavender."

"Wait. Why did you change it?" He asked out of curiosity.

"My uncle always told me black was not acceptable color for a lady to enjoy. It was one of the few things opinions he had regarding me." Her face dropped back down.

"I do not care about that. I wanted to know your favorite color."

"Well I like black. Red and purple too. Any dark bold color really."

"What is your favorite animal?"

Her face flushed pink. "I think done answering your questions."

"No you are not Catalina. Now tell me your favorite animal. It's not a hard question at all."

"You will tease me. I simply know it"

"No I will not. Now tell me." His voice became commanding.

"Cats. I love cats." Her voice was soft. "Big cats, little cats, wild cats, pet cats, kittens, older cats, it does not matter. I love them all. I know it is silly but I do not care. I love cats."

He smiled. He had expected that but it was still cute. "I see. Favorite book?"

"Oh I could not pick just one. I love Shakespeare and Dante and Milton and even Twain from America. Voltaire maybe or Swift." She said after thinking on it. "I do just love books. Her eyes light up with excitement as she talked about her passion.

His smile widened and his midnight eyes were warm as he looked at her. Does she know how adorable she is? I can't help but want to laugh in joy as I watch her. She just makes me feel wonderful inside, like a hole has been filled. Christine was beautiful and fair but never cute. Never even truly warm. That's why a statue could capture her so. Catalina is lively, energetic along with beautiful. A statue would lose her. So would a painting. Nothing can capture that warmth.

"Alright. Last question for now. What do you like to eat?"

"Dessert."

He waited for her to continue but nothing came. "And?"

"Chocolate."

Again he waited for her to expand but nothing. "I was hoping for real food. Like vegetables or something."

She screwed up her face then looked at him like he was insane. "Vegetables? Are you serious?"

"Alright then. Meat of any sort?"

"Sometimes."

"Milk?"

"Cream only."

"Any fruits?"

She nodded. "Not pears though."

"Fish?"

She nodded again. "Except for eel."

"But not any vegetables? None at all?"

"Right."

Erique sighed. "Vegetables are very good for you."

She looked pointedly at him. "So?"

He let that slide for the moment and decided to probe a bit more. "Which meats do you like?"

"Steak. Sometimes chicken. Sometimes pork. Not sausage though. Or lamb. Or veal. None at all. Fish. Shrimp. I like steak. And bacon."

He laughed as he heard her stomach growl. “Hungry?"

She nodded once more.

"Sit tight then while I go see what I can scrounge up for you." He got up and slipped behind a mirror in to a hallway. After going through the first door he passed by a large table and in another door to the room that held his ice cellar. Bottles of wine lined the walls and chucks of meat hung from the ceiling. Large blocks of ice placed in miscellaneous spots around the room kept everything quite chilly. Quickly, Erique grabbed a baguette, some grapes and a wedge of cheese.

"Hopefully she'll eat this. I forgot to ask about cheese. Actually, let me take that back. She had better eat this. I'll not have a starving girl in my care." He then found a plate and knife and headed back towards her.

Apparently, she did eat cheese because she devoured most of the food quickly. When she was done she laid back on the pillows, a soft satisfied smile on her face.

He laughed quietly.

"What?" She asked.

"Nothing." He replied, a smile still on his lips.

"You are laughing at me." Her face then screwed up in to a pout.

"Well yes but not for anything bad. I was just half excepting you to start cleaning yourself. It's little wonder your nickname is Cat. You certainly act like one."

She sat up, glared at him briefly before continuing to pout.

His smiled fell and he began to feel irate. "Alright. You can stop that now."

"No."

"Fine. Then I will take my leave. I have no tolerance for such childish sulking." He was down the stairs and around the corner before she could say another word.

"Well if he is going to be like that…" Cat stood up beside the bed, testing her ankle. "It does not hurt as much now. I think that is a good sign."

For several minutes she walked around the cave to spite the phantom that had stormed out on her so rudely. When she grew bored, Cat sat back on the bed and began to read another book. The candles lighting the room burned down as the hours passed by. When it got to the point where Cat realized she was reading the same passage four and five times, she decided waiting for Erique was pointless. Not to mention if she was going to fall asleep she may as well be comfortable. If he wasn't there when she awoke she'd just explore. With that decided, Cat stripped off her gown and petticoats before crawling under the covers. Within moments she was asleep.

***

"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" Erique raged as he paced through the tunnels. "I'm no blushing virgin! This is not my first time! This is not the first girl I've been around! Why do I react to her like this? I'm fighting myself not to brush her hair from her face, to touch her lips to see if they are as soft as they look, to run a hand over her bare shoulders, to shove her down on the bed and fuck her brains out! Why do I do this to myself? Haven't I learned? She'll never want someone like me…"

He sank down to the ground, leaning against the corridor's wall. "I'm up and down so often I belong in an institution. The only thing wrong with me however is currently sitting in my bed. And I can't even join her…" He then gave a deep sigh. "I have to do something about this. I need a distraction, an outlet. Some way to be around her without thoughts of how much I want her filling my head. With Christine it was her singing. I didn't want to fuck nearly as badly when I busied myself with turning her in to my protégée, my voice. What shall I do with little Catalina?"
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After the Angel